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

[taurohtar]

Ah, I see. [She does not. It seems impossible to her, that a land might exist without magic of any kind. How was it formed, then? Who created the earth and the sea, who brought to life the plants and the forests and all the beasts that lived in them? Magic is an intrinsic part of her understanding of creation and the world in general. To think there might be a place without it... It is most alarming to her. She will have to think about this at length at a later date.

It seems he will take his leave of her, and Tauriel is gearing up to bid him farewell when what he says has her freezing for a moment, her eyebrows arching incredulously.]

Darling? [Nobody has dared take such liberties with her, not in all her six centuries — nobody but Kíli, who held her hand in his and called her beloved in the secret tongue of his ancestors, who looked at her as if she hung the moon and smiled as if she were his only reason for it, who died on that mountain with an apology in his eyes and her name on his lips — and for a moment, she is at a loss for words. Anger and grief chase each other through her heart, though her face remains mostly impassive, her hands clenching for a moment at her sides.]

I am not your darling, impertinent creature. [Weariness wins out above all other emotions, her heart too heavy to hold on to anger for too long, and she frowns at this Killian Jones.]

[villainously]

[ well then. his brow inclines, and he looks more amused than anything. it is absolutely the wrong reaction to laugh at being called impertinent creature, isn't it? he manages to still the reaction, but honestly. that's a first for him, and he has been called all sorts of things. though rarely for a meaningless petname he throws into conversation thoughtlessly. she's clearly offended by it, and he is... well, not particularly repentant.

she's not the first to be offended by his tendency toward petnames, but she certainly is the most offended. in a better moment he might have been curious why; has she really never had someone speak of her in this way, or is it something deeper? he has too many other concerns to really put too much thought into her vehemence.. ]

Right. No, you most certainly or not, pardon the turn of phrase. [ he still didn't mean to offend, yet he's not genuinely contrite for it either. it is simply how he speaks, and one lady taking it unkindly won't be enough to make him stop. ] Pirates are rather known for their impertinence, I'm afraid, but in this it wasn't intentional. Really, nobody has ever called you that before? [ she does seem quite formal... likely explains it. Hook detests excessive formality, it reminds him of the foolish boy he'd been centuries ago. ]

[taurohtar]

[She can see that her irritation only seems to bring him amusement, which does little but make her feel yet more irritated. However, Tauriel has had much experience swallowing her anger, having spent six centuries in the court of a king whom she loved dearly but had something of a mercurial temper, and so she does little more than continue to frown at him, her back as straight as one of the arrows she still misses keenly at her hip.

At least he apologizes, although it seems somewhat less than sincere. Still, Tauriel is willing enough to accept it, especially when he outs himself as a pirate.] Ah, well. That explains much. [Tauriel has never met a pirate before, for she has always avoided the sea, fearful that she might hear the call of the gull on the shore and be filled with a longing to sail off towards the Grey Havens, abandoning her life on Middle Earth in order to live with the Valinor. Still, she has heard plenty of stories of pirates and their ilk, and she likes to think she has some grasp of their ways.

At least in theory.]

That is no concern of yours. [For a moment, she feels a tug in her breast, as if there is a string attached to her heart and someone is pulling at it. It has her breath stuttering in her lungs briefly, and she closes her eyes in an effort to force composure back upon herself. Grief is a private thing, and she will not share it with this...this pirate.]

[villainously]

[ it's almost exhausting to watch her. she seems weary to say the least, and his presence is clearly an inconvenience. that she keeps to such rigid formalities even in such a situation of strain, he can't imagine it. no, that's not true, he can. it reminds him of the leftenant he was once and wore yet, a brother he tries not to think of too frequently. Liam would be mortified by his behavior at the moment, but honestly his brother would be mortified by his existence at this point. it's nothing new.

in the end, that momentary break, of exhaustion that has nothing at all to do with weariness of the body, is what draws him toward actual conrition. because he knows how that feels, too, and he distinctly feels he's seen something he was not meant to. at least he's got enough compassion not to be amused by grief, and he knows that isn't his business either.

he doesn't make note, simply steps out of her space. ] I'll take my leave, then. [ it's an instinctive reaction to want to say darling, just in attempts to pull her back from where she is, and it's the memory that he will only make it worse that lets him bite his tongue. before he completely departs, though, he offers in an almost uncomfortable mutter,] You might want to lock the door. I don't believe I'm the only one searching for a way out of this place. [ it might save her a bit of misery. ]

[taurohtar]

[It's unforgivable that she allowed someone she does not know well — that she does not even particularly like, to be honest — to see her like this, but there is also something freeing about it. Perhaps this is the most honest she has been with anyone she has met so far in this hotel; pretending to be fine is a terrible task to set upon yourself, and to have at least one person with whom she is honest, even wordlessly so, is a relief.

It has her lips quirking in what might be considered a smile when he backs away, an acknowledgement more than out of any kind of amusement, and she ducks her head to him in the shallowest of bows, allowing him to cut the conversation short and retreat.] Thank you. [It hadn't crossed her mind that someone would simply open her door without invitation, such things being utterly unheard of in the barracks she normally resides in back in the Greenwood, but she will take heed of his warning.

She takes half a step forward when he starts to leave, however, a sudden thought having her lift her hand in some sort of abortive gesture.] Wait. What—what room is yours?

[villainously]

[ in her shoes, he likely would have found it just as deplorable to even for an instant show how he really felt. he was downright monstrous to his men after he'd lost Milah, as if he tore them apart would make him ache a little less. they couldn't pity him or make it real by offering sympathies and condolences if he turned cold and cruel. clearly that worked out for him so well, but he understands that she might want distance.

the thanks is likely falling back into manners again and he nods in return, not feeling a need to respond when it doesn't mean anything. he might be wrong yet he's gotten a few drop ins when he was searching his own room, so it isn't impossible. if it'll ease her a bit, then it's easy advice to give.

her inquiry does surprise him, though. he looks confused, though he shakes it quickly. he really can't imagine what she wants it for, yet there's little good in hiding it or spurning the question. it's a tight space and there's not any way to keep it secret and really, what does it matter? there's naught in his room that he would care about losing. everything that has ever mattered to him is already gone or on his person. ] Two hundred and seven, a few doors down.

[taurohtar]

[She inclines her head in a little nod, her expression lightening slightly. It is not quite a smile, no, but the distressed frown she had been wearing smooths out slightly, and she looks much less likely to burst into tears without warning.]

I am sure our paths will cross again. This hotel is not overly large. [She is not quite so rude as to close the door in the pirate's face, even though she is fairly certain that this conversation is over, but she does nudge the door a little bit.

She is tired now, more tired than she had been before, and the bed behind her is calling out her name. Perhaps she could lie down for a little while, meditate, attempt to replenish her depleted stores of energy in order to avoid any sort of uncomfortable conversations like this in the future.]

[villainously]

[ she isn't wrong there. the place they are trapped is impossibly small. he's been trapped before, really this is nothing new, but at least Neverland felt expansive. he feels strangled in this tiny inn, and so far there are no exits and no answers, only too many people and too much confusion.

he nods slightly at her note they'll see each other again, again, not quite an answer, yet he doubts she needs one. he's completely through the door as she starts to close it and he struggles with how to close the encounter. someone else might have said they were sorry, and not really meant walking into her room without permission, but he's not that sort of person.

sorry doesn't do any good. it doesn't heal any wounds, for a stranger to be sorry. so instead, he offers, ] Rest well. [ she looks like she needs it, and impertinent or not, it's a worthy suggestion. when he was grieving, he didn't sleep, it didn't do him any favors.

he doesn't wait for her door to close, though, departing on his own. not toward his room, just to stumble around for more exploration. he's not quite ready to give up on a way out. when is he? he'll keep looking, and he's not likely to disturb the lady again. ]