sit yourself down, and meet the best inn keeper in town ( O P E N )

[checkingin]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The initial arrival rooms, the main lobby, all over the place.
When: February 3rd
What: Welcome, newbies.

ARRIVAL.

you wake up when you hit the floor in a dark room, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. the carpet is threadbare, worn with use, kind of dusty. and you're not the first person to endure this crash landing. nor will you be the last.

once your vision rights itself, you can see the well-lit hallway through the doorjam straight ahead of you. not to say there’s monsters in the shadows, but something propels you towards that door and out into the bright hallway beyond.

and once outside your room, you can hear it: the steady thrum of rain outside.

MAIN LOBBY.

there's a staircase at the end of the lengthy hallway you tumble out of. grab your suitcase and follow the dull green exit signs on the ceiling until you reach the disappointingly bland stairs that lead you down to the ornate old fashion hotel lobby.

to your left is a warmly crackling fireplace, to your right is a lobby desk. straight ahead are three large sets of doors, though only one of them is open to the public. and outside the few (curtained, permanently dark) windows is the continually steady hiss of rain.

welcome to the hotel.

FRONT DESK.

though there is a bell and a plaque designating the desk to be the main desk, the customer service desk, there are currently no staff members behind it. none shall answer your calls, either.

terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

SCREENING ROOM.

on a tall pull-down screen, a silent version of nosferatu will be playing on loop. at the back of the room, between the neat rows of fold out chairs, mounted on a wobbly table is the old timey projector, and mounted on the walls are some rather old speakers that warble out "terrifying" old timey music.

along the curtained windows is another long table, with a large bowl that looked like it once would have held popcorn. but is now unfortunately empty. same for the large hot drink dispensers labeled "hot chocolate" and "coffee".

OTHER.

the ballroom and breakfast hall are currently closed, grand doors locked.

there is no main door leading to the outside, good luck trying to find one.

the door to the courtyard is locked.

ROOMS.

you've a room key with your assigned room number on it. all the new guest residences will be located on floors one & two. while there is an open elevator in the main lobby, and the buttons light up inside, the doors will not close. all in all, you'd be better off taking the stairs.

while they're the same stairs you undoubtedly came down to get to the lobby, the door to the endless hall everyone woke up in will not reappear between the main floor and the subsequent residential halls.

there are twenty rooms per floor. feel free to get to know your surroundings; or your neighbors as they trickle in around you.

Comments

[wickedlyable]

((Yeah, if he touches her, she'll probably go ballistic. Keeping his distance is for the best.

After all, even with this simple of a response, she's still snapping at him.)) Yeah, I know that, idiot. But obviously it's not just any normal hotel, considering both of us have never heard the place that the other came from.

[technologist]

Yeah. Well, I'm from Scotland, but I spent most of my time in America. Before this happened, anyway. [ Whatever the hell this is. Her interest sets off a very minor alarm bell, but for the most part he just sounds curious. ]

Have you never been there?

[technologist]

[ Super descriptive. The brainwashed comment cuts off any sarcastic response, though, earning a quick glance. ]

Brainwashed. As in HYDRA?

[ Like Simmons, nearly. Things he's absolutely not going to think about right now, because he's not entirely sure what to think about it at all. There's been no sign of her, yet, but where they'd been before this wasn't exactly better. ]

[technologist]

[ Which is a more important clarification than she might realize, actually. He's about to ask if she's Asgardian when she cuts in with the answer. ]

But you were born on Earth, yeah? Or is it more of a—

[ The sentence comes to an abrupt stop, and Fitz glances to the floor while mouthing few words under his breath. Failing to settle on the right one, he looks back up, sounding mildly chagrined. ]

Um. The thing with the... cities. On other planets.

[pajarita]

Pff -- they wished. [she puts off the unscrewing for a moment just to answer.] No -- actual space, on a space station we just called the Ark. Mecha Station, if you wanted to be specific -- where the cool people lived.

[pontificus]

England! In the north then. [She hums.] I know little of the place, though some of the names are familiar to me.

France, at times, is either friend or foe. Foe currently, it seems.

[hacker]

Well, he wasn't Mr. Happy-to-Comply like Gill, but it'd fit, right? [ She hunches her shoulders, welcoming supposition. ] They were the only ones in San Juan with us.

[64th]

[ this seems like the wrong time to tell him that in her world, his home is long gone and replaced by a terrifying dictatorship. so she shakes her head and leaves out the details. ]

No. People in Panem don't travel much. You just stay where you're born. Most people haven't ever seen other parts of the country, except for on television.

[64th]

You're welcome. [ they could all stand to make friends - or allies, depending on how you look at it. ]

I hope I don't sound insane and paranoid but watch out for people. We don't know who we're stuck here with yet. [ and to be truthful, Cashmere's quick assessment of Emily says she doesn't look like she could do much in the way of self-defense. ]

[trepidations]

[ It's okay, he's not that stupid. He won't be touching anyone. ]

Well, yeah, but I don't think anyone else knows anything different. A bunch of people here are... from other places. But no one knows why. [ He had thought maybe it was a plot from the death eaters in his world, but it's becoming more and more clear it's not. ]

[withbread]

It's okay [ he's quick to assure her suspecting she'd had a panic attack simply because he had too in his own way. ] I haven't opened mine either. I went looking for you first. [ he really did go look for her and probably got branded as something of a crazy person. ]

[jarnsida]

( Oh no. There is no possible way that he'll be able to pronounce her name, as pretty as it sounds. The syllables roll off her tongue like music, and he has no hope in Hel of echoing that. Björn ducks his head, acutely aware of the height difference between them, and leads her into a room full of tables and chairs. Not a single bench in sight.

But he is admittedly not as focused on that yet as he perhaps ought to be. ) The pleasure is mine, my lady.

( Because there is a perceptive girl on his arm, and he is too busy turning to her with an amused half-smile. He nods once, eyes alight with curiosity. )

It is. My father is King of the Danes. ( He tilts his head, considering. ) And where might you be from?

[pontificus]

[The attention he gives her is the kind she thrives off of, knowing full well why, and being all the more flattered for it. The way he addresses her has her nose crinkling, giving her a look as if she is on the edge of laughing. Lucrezia's cheeks are naturally rosy as her attention stays equally focused on him. She feels a surge of pride when he confirms that he is from the north.]

Then you are a prince. You must forgive my rudeness then, [She dips low in a curtsy with her hand gentle on his.] Your Highness.

[When he asks, she straightens again and tucks back a lock of hair.] Rome, in the south. My father is the Holy Roman Pope of the Catholic Church.

[technologist]

[ Bless you, Cashmere. ]

Well, you've certainly managed to do a bit of travelling now, yeah? [ Which is meant to be a joke, though his delivery's too uncertain to really sell it. ] Just... not for long, hopefully. I'm sure we'll get this all figured out and get home in a few days. A week, tops.

[ Spoiler alert: no. ]

[jarnsida]

( Now it is Björn's turn to wrinkle his nose, looking entirely the barely nineteen years of his youth. The corners of his mouth lift up, and suddenly he is smiling at her. )

You couldn't have known. Besides, that is only a recent development. In the beginning, we were farmers. Then my father won a duel and became an Earl. Another, and he became King.

( He is proud of this, that much is apparent. But it is all incredibly new, and her fine manners are lost on him in part. Tilting his head, he asks: ) Why do you do that?

( Ah, so he's right, too! His triumph lights up his eyes, and he grins. ) So you are Christian! A Saxon priest is all-but part of my family. He told my sister and I much about his God.

Would you speak of your land with me? I would like to hear more.

[wickedlyable]

... that's fucked up. This is all really fucked up. ((She seems to be talking to herself more than him, scanning the room another time.)) If this isn't Snow, then who's doing this? Who would want anything to do with us?

[pontificus]

He must be a strong man. I can see where you get it from, [She flatters with a look in her eyes, tilting her chin down to look up at him. He is certainly tall and broad, and she feels safer beside him.]

It is a curtsy, Your Highness. I do it as a sign of respect, acknowledging your power. Do not the northmen bow to their kings?

[His excitement makes her smile, watching him in wonder. So he knows some of her culture whereas she knows very little of his. It is outside the domain of her father, and many would look down on him, calling him a heathen. But his title speaks more, and he is too kind to write off. It is not in her nature anyway.]

A priest. He is governed by a bishop, and then a cardinal, and then my father, [She explains.] My brother is a cardinal as well.

[She steps in time with him as they begin to walk no where in particular, already captivated with one another.] As you wish. What would you like to know?

[sheriffing]

[There's a lot Emma could say to Killian's warning, because a dangerous secret is nothing new to her. Gold's gone from evil to a necessary one at times, because he's not just the Dark One, he's also Henry's grandfather. She's fallen into the trap of thinking of him as one of Henry's last connections to Neal - the one who can fill in blanks that even Killian can't. He's an ally when it benefits him and a thorn in their side when he wants a deal, but she was thinking, hoping, that his marriage to Belle would mellow him out.

Turns out that instead of helping him, it's going to end up hurting her. For her part, Emma's first thought is that the woman deserves better, and her second is that Killian knows that, too.]

Everything about him is false, I can't say I'm surprised that it also goes for his accessories.

[Belle would be, because she wants to believe he's changed. She wants to believe he's good; good if you grade on a curve, but better than he was. Take away everything else, and the least she'd expect is for him to be honest with the person he claims to care about. And for a moment, a painfully quiet one - Emma can't help but relate.

It was easier to believe that the newly restored hand was a peace offering than to call him out on another scheme. She should have, instead of letting him think he was going to get away with something, but the explanation he gave her was the one she wanted to believe in. It would've been nice to see Killian get back what he lost without having to sell his soul for it, but that isn't how Gold works. It isn't how Killian works, either.]

Don't you think you should have told her?

[Not for revenge, and not to piss off Gold... just because it was the right thing to do. Theirs is one relationship Emma is happy to steer clear of, but something like this deserves a little consideration. Killian knows better than anyone that the women in Gold's life are the ones who pay for his mistakes. How could he let that happen again?]

I know what Gold would do if the truth came out, but that's exactly why you should have said something. Belle's a good person, she should know who she agreed to spend her life with.

[Emma would like to know Killian for who he is, too, but one lie isn't the kind of thing that earns a comparison to the Dark One. She shakes her head to the thought of it and tugs her lip between her teeth, too disappointed to work her way up to being annoyed with him.]

You're better than this.

[He doesn't have to believe it, she assumes that he probably won't. Emma, on the other hand, can recognize progress when she sees it. He's made that, but setbacks happen. She's had those, too.]

[villainously]

( had he considered telling Belle? no. not even for a moment. he could make an excuse if he wanted, that she wouldn't believe him. and it's a good excuse, Belle likely wouldn't have believed him. that doesn't really excuse anything, though. he should have told the girl, instead of trying to manipulate a bad situation to his advantage.

he's used the information to get help finding the ice queen the first time. the second was all greed, and perhaps he'd deserved the punishment he received. a hand he couldn't control, and trapped in a situation he should have been able to see from a mile away as the wrong choice. Emma sees progress, well, he just sees that he's not so different from the lying, dangerous man the supposedly evil hand came off of, the one he's supposedly left behind. the one that was quick to take advantage of a situation to get what he wanted, and not think much about what it'd do to the people caught in the crosshairs. perhaps he would have done the right thing, eventually. . . once he'd gotten something out of it. which doesn't much sound like progress, now does it?

he'd have much preferred anger to quiet disappointment, actually. anger he understands, it's easy to be angry. disappointment requires a certain degree of trust and faith, disappointment comes from caring and not seeing what you hoped for. it stings worse than the many times she's beat him over the head, for one reason or another. how many disappointments does one man get before she decides he's not worth the trouble?

chances are already slim, considering the father of her child is back from the dead, the scant margin he had is closing, like a door shutting out the only light he has, and it's not a comfortable sensation. he can't really lose Emma, he never really had her, but he surely can lose the right to a chance. he disappoints her and battles for another shot and she breaks and gives him one and yet they always end up at the same place.

this isn't a time, or a place, for self pity. it's more important to focus on getting out of here, than it is to focus on the fact every time Emma gets a little closer, she finds she doesn't like what she sees. he keeps his eyes set on the carpet, not managing a response to being better than this. ) She'll know the truth when we get back.

( perhaps with his son in the equation the Crocodile will be forced back into line. Baelfire was the only one that ever managed to really curb him; Belle had never been able, even if she thought she was. the truth was officially out, and his chance of getting the dark one to aide him taking his evil hand off had completely stalled out, but there was more than one way to take off a hand. he just wouldn't use magic to do it. his jaw clenches for a moment, but he forces himself to meet her eye. ) Unless there's something more, you should rest. ( it's not exactly a dismissal; it's just easier to push people away before they walk away on their own.

saviors aren't the only one with that defense mechanism. )

[cisskabob]

[Excuse her a minute. She didn't expect that answer. Twenty-six is not that bad at all, especially since she's actually eighteen.]

...Sorry. So do you.

[...Did she just call him old? Yes she did.]

I'm Cissie.

[oceanborne]

[ Catching the clothes with one hand, Annie nudges the door shut with her foot before she starts dressing. Sure, modesty isn't exactly a common ailment among victors, but that doesn't mean she wants anyone else in this place to catch her unaware. ]

You mean I'm going to look like a little girl who's been raiding her sister's wardrobe? [ She smiles like she's joking, but it really is true. Annie's always been one of the shortest victors, and her extended stay in the president's custody left her all angles and too-prominent bones beneath her skin. But at least she's wearing something more substantial than a sheet, so that's progress. Right now, she'll take whatever she can get.

She takes the discarded sheet and folds it up carefully, tucking it under her arm -- maybe once they've mapped this place, she can find some use for it. ] A piece of rope, this little scented squishy ball, and some kind of uniform, I think. I didn't really look too close, it seemed useless.

[technologist]

What— [ Goodbye chagrin, hello slightly embarrassing enthusiasm. ] That's incredible. You lived on a space station? You were actually born there?

[technologist]

Yeah. Maybe. [ It makes sense. More sense than he'd like it to, honestly, but at least it's based on something familiar. Fitz goes quiet as if he's mulling the information over, although a few seconds later— ] Have you eaten anything?

[hacker]

What? No. [ She shrugs, brow furrowing like it didn't occur to her. ] Kind of distracted by the big steaming pile of kidnapping here. [ Because surely they won't be around long enough to have to eat their food ............. ]

[pajarita]

[too bad she is used to being awesome hasn't picked up on that yet.] I did and I was, and it wasn't that incredible. Not at the end.