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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She listens intently to his explanation and nods, absorbing that information, but the frown on her face doesn't dissipate, for she is still missing key points she feels are vital for true understanding.]

But how do the pictures move?

[His elaboration on the creature the movie is about has her wrinkling her nose. He looks like a goblin, or a small, stunted orc, and she has spent far too much time killing those things to want to do anything more than continue. The woman swooning about on screen bears the full brunt of Tauriel's disapproving frown for a moment, before she turns back to the man at her side.]

Why don't they kill it, then, and burn its body?

[ Oh.

Bucky thinks hard on that for a moment, then. ] It's an advanced invention. [ He knew how it worked, once upon a time; now, the specifics of it is burned out of his memory.

Bucky watches her reaction to the women, to the creature, the monster that terrorizes them, and he thinks that she's got the right idea over there. ] If that happened, the movie would be over in ten minutes.

[ He regards her, the back of his mind flickering with curiosity. ] I take it you're not from here.

Oh. [That makes sense, of course, but she's never seen anything like it before, and now she's curious about how it functions, and who it was that created it, and for what purpose. Surely not simply for entertainment...] I see. [She doesn't, really, but she decides to let the subject drop for the moment.

His eyes on her are a heavy weight she turns to acknowledge after another moment of frowning at the screen, and she doesn't look the slightest bit embarrassed or sheepish about her apparently ruthless tendencies.] It seems, by far, the simplest solution to me.

[Why wouldn't they kill and burn the creature? Nothing that feeds on blood like that should be suffered to live.]

I would have assumed none of us are from here, truthfully.

[ That's the question of the century, isn't it? Why wouldn't they kill and burn the thing? She's a woman after his heart right there. But then again, no such things exist, so there's that. Can't go killing and burning every corpse they find.

He glances back at the screen, having taken her measure, gauging that she's at least seen war, or left more than a few bodies in her wake. She's ruthlessly practical, and hey, that's a good thing. ]

Seems like it. You're from?

[It doesn't quite register to her that there are people who wouldn't consider killing and burning a creature such as this; even the most peaceful of peasants would know to murder a creature that threatened to kill them or drink their blood.

She settles her hands placidly in her lap, her fingers curling around themselves.] Mirkwood Forest.

[Her head tilts slightly, and her expression lightens a little; not quite a smile, but an absence of a frown.] I am Tauriel.

[ People have gotten much softer since the time of bloodthirsty peasantry. Now they bury themselves in their latest gadgets or time-waster of choice. Easy pickings for the discerning assassin or two.

He tilts his head at that response. Mirkwood Forest? It's not something he knows. ]

James. [ Where? He's not sure anymore. Nowhere, maybe. He relaxes inexplicably in her presence, just a little. ] Where is Mirkwood?

[She does not ask him where he's from, since she already knows that she won't know where it is. Tauriel has come to learn that she doesn't know where anything is. As of right now, the knowledge hasn't properly sunk in.]

Greetings, James. [She spreads her hands a little, a helpless gesture, indicating she doesn't even know where to start.] Middle Earth. Arda. Take your pick, I have come to realize my home is nowhere near here.

[ Don't worry, Tauriel. Soon, it will. And soon, she'll come to realize that not a soul in this establishment (save for the staff) who know where the hell they are, too.

Middle Earth, Arda; he's positive that he's never remotely heard of that. Is she not from the world he's from? Can this even happen? ]

It seems so. Are you human?

[He asks as if he already knows the answer, and perhaps it is the simple way he asks — without incredulity, as if he asking her the time, or what the weather is like outside — that has her shaking her head and answering equally simply.]

No. I am a Silvan elf. [She looks him over, noting his round ears, the stubble on his chin, the length of his limbs. The only thing incongruous with the picture is the hint of what appears to be metal at his wrist and hand; does he wear a gauntlet? Why only on one arm?]

You are human, though. [It's half a question, but she's fairly certain she's correct.]

[ A Silvan elf. Bucky doesn't have the most remote idea as to what it possibly means, but he accepts that; quietly filing it away. A Silvan elf from another world, whatever it may be. He's aware of her curious once-over, but she's so starkly different from anything he's ever known that he doesn't see it as a threat.

And besides, here they are, talking about humans and non-humans like it's just another day in a strange hotel. ]

More or less.

[ He affirms, even if he doesn't really remember what it means to feel like one. ] How did you end up here?

[She can tell by the expression in his eyes — or lack thereof — that he also doesn't know what she is, like everyone else she has spoken to, but it is more than a little pleasant to have him accept her at face value.

She affords him the same courtesy he afforded her; not questioning him about his vague answer, despite the fact that she's desperately curious about what on earth he means by that. "More or less?" More or less than what? How can one only more or less be human?

Still, it is an answer she can accept, and her stiff posture of before relaxes somewhat, her spine curving as her shoulders slump slightly.]

I...do not know. The last thing I remember, I had been crossing the Dead Marshes. The next, I woke up in an empty, dark room, and I was here.

What about you?

[ One can more or less be human through the acts one commits on another -- humanity is not a thing she could fathom, not as someone removed from the evils of a world where elves didn't exist, and where good and evil seem virtually impossible to be discerned from each other sometimes.

He's quiet for a moment, digesting those words, the realization that he really doesn't know where it is -- Bucky has an extensive knowledge of the world's geography, and none of the areas she's mentioned clicks.

So she's lost, too; moreso than most. Welcome to the club. ]

I was... hunting. Ended up the same way.

[Hunting, she understands. Before she was banished by her king and sent wandering all of Middle Earth alone in her grief, Tauriel had been an accomplished hunter, and would often accompany the elves whose sole occupation it was so fetch food for their king's table on the hunt.

She nods, idly wishing for her bow and arrows again. They are like a missing limb long healed; it does not cause her pain that they are gone, but she can almost feel them there still.]

I am sorry to hear that. It seems we are all plucked from our lives with no warning, then.

The question is why.

[ Bucky says after a moment; the question had been burning in his mind ever since his arrival, and there are no answers forthcoming, not from anyone within the building. It's becoming frustrating, but he knows to wait -- moving too quickly could be a potentially deadly move, and he's willing to bide his time. ]

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

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