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

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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.

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MAIN LOBBY

After the last time Scott wound up in a creepy motel, he's not exactly keen on sticking around the arrival hallway. So, he's abandoned his luggage for the meantime, heading downstairs to the main lobby to maybe see if he can't find his friends. If he can't find familiar faces. Maybe even some answers.

Considering the fact that there doesn't seem to be any hotel staff around, nevermind that there's no front door, he's not sure how many answers he's going to and up finding.

Still, he goes looking. He tries to track a scent - literally any one - but his senses seem duller. Everything does. Not gone, like during the eclipse, and not like he was before the bite, but still... dampened. It adds to the frustration, but doesn't get him to stop searching. Maybe there are others just as lost as him, even people who might need help.

Trying the bell at the front desk just for the sake of trying, he waits there. And waits. And then abandons it, in the end, to search the rest of the floor.

Scott calls out for his pack, as he goes walking around, testing the locked doors and pulling at curtains, basically cautiously poking around.

This place puts him on edge, makes him nervous as hell.

FIRST FLOOR (ROOMS 101 - 120)

Eventually, Scott makes his way back up to the first floor of rooms - after trying the elevator, yielding no results - and gets his luggage. The key in his hand is ominous, but he thinks maybe there might be an answer in here, somewhere. Either in room 116 or in his suitcase.

If someone catches his attention or stops him in the hallway on the way to his assigned room, he'll be more than happy to oblige. Especially if the person in question needs help, even if he doesn't have any information to give right at this moment.

When he gets to room 116, he doesn't shut the door. Just in case something happens in the hallway, or even further into the hotel. In case one of his pack shows up. The open invitation doesn't stop him from opening a suitcase - and he pretends the numbers to unlock it aren't the anniversary of Allison's death, another offense of the hotel's - so that he can go through it.

Clothes, some of his old summer reading, candy. Something for treating red eyes - funny - and something that looks like an iPad.

He sets everything on the bed and goes to open the other suitcase.

And, with a wordless shout of alarm, of panic, he slams it shut again on the remnants of a mask.

( NOTE that I'm going to be kind of slow with my boys for a little bit due to being in post-op recovery right now. My pain meds have me out cold for a couple hours every three to four hours, but I'll be around for tags when I'm awake! Just slow on my tablet. )

Edited 2015-02-03 19:58 (UTC)

[ Senses dampened as well, Derek hears the footsteps of someone stop at the adjacent door. A neighbor. Gun (not loaded), in his hand, he brings it to his side, trying to concentrate on his dulled senses. The door opens - that he hears because his is opened. Actions are muffled. There might be the springs of his neighbor's bed. A few more seconds pass and he relaxes, making the decision to meet his illustrious neighbor.

He jumps at the shout, moving quickly from his room to the doorway of the next, gun at the ready. ] Are you - [ His gun up, he freezes -- hoping this isn't another Thomas. ]

Scott? [ It's bad manners to point a gun at someone - especially at his alpha. But his gun does remain at his side.

Please let this be Scott McCall and not another look-a-like. At least that would make some semblance of sense. ]

Jesus - [ Scott, already startled by the halved berserker mask, jolts at the sudden appearance of someone in his doorway. Clutching at his chest, as if it can get his heart under control, he stares up at - ]

Derek? [ There's a twinge of three things in his voice: hesitation, relief, and humor. The latter of which is sort of delirious from the situation, from the fact he came running from what he assumes to be next door at the first sign off trouble. But he can't help but let the relief overtake everything else. Derek has never failed to come to his aid, not unless he was already in his own trouble. ] I thought I was here alone.

[ From the pack, he obviously means. ] Good thing I'm not covered in gasoline this time.

[ Scott's confirmation that he does in fact know Derek brings with it a host of other questions - but all of them pale in the face of one fact - Scott is here and he's in one piece. He brings his gun down immediately, sliding it into his waistband (a habit he has Braedan to thank for). ]

You're not. There's a group of us. [ Eyes on the room, he moves past Scott, trying to spot what it is the alpha may have reacted to. Nothing seems out of place, or yelp-worthy. ] There's someone who looks like Stiles, he calls himself Thomas. [ When he decides there's nothing of any immediate danger, he looks back to Scott, joining in his sentiment with a small, proud smile. ] I didn't shoot then, either. [ He quickly adds ] You're okay?

Yeah, I've talked to some people. But, no one... [ Scott makes an aborted gesture. Pack, Beacon Hills, take your pick. He's going to go out looking again once his heart calms down and he can focus his weakened senses better.

His eyes fall to where Derek has stowed the gun - that's so surreal, still - but he looks back up at the other werewolf. Someone who looks like Stiles? ] He's... Not like the nogitsune, is he? Could you catch anything about his scent?

[ Also asking if Derek feels as different as he does without asking it, but he does at least crack a little smile for a second. Alpha pride, maybe, until he's asked if he's okay. Eyeing the suitcase, Scott brings it over and inserts the date again to reopen it, showing him the contents. ]

Nothing familiar, nothing -- [ He's not going to hold this back, not from Scott. ] My senses, they're - dulled. I have to be standing right in front of a person and even then... [ Here, right now, Scott's scent is both familiar and distinctive - as is his nervousness. His heart however, remains a distant thumping. Normally, they thump within Derek's mind like he has headphones on, like he's listening to them.

Derek waits, joining Scott by the suitcase. It's unlike waiting for the film in the screening room to end - there's more tension in the moment. The lid lifts - and Derek shuts it this time.

He's reminded of what he'd been told happened. What Peter's plan had been. What happened to Scott. It's not long ago, not even, that he was a part of the group traveling to rescue him. ] Scott, I'm sorry -- [ He looks down, before meeting Scott's eyes. Derek doesn't back away from emotions, anymore. ] I should've - known. I should've done something.

Mine are, too. [ Is it bad that he's grateful he's not alone? But after two years, Scott has grown used to depending on his senses. Has accepted that he's a werewolf. This is his place in life, but now, part of it has been taken away from him. It's difficult to come to terms with, something he reflects on now as ironic. Hadn't he wanted to get rid of his lycanthropy before? ] I can catch a scent if I'm right on top of it, but it's weak. We're not fully human, for sure, but it's still... It's halved.

[ His fingers tap nervously on the lid of the suitcase, both before he opens it and after Derek closes it. But as it's shut, he scrambles the numbers on the lock, to make sure it can't be opened by anyone that doesn't know the combination. He's just glad there isn't anything else in it. Means they can do something with it, like hide it somewhere. ]

It's not like any of us knew it'd happen, Derek. I mean, we haven't trusted Peter despite whatever "help" he's offered, and we've always known he's been up to something, but we couldn't have ever known that... That Kate would come back, that he'd work with her. And we came out of it okay - like, really okay, considering you died for a while there. Because you came to help me.

[ Dependence or not, it's disconcerting that whoever took them dulled the both of them down. His eyes move to the nearby wall, wondering if it could be in the motel itself. The building could be made with anything. It could be another vault. Derek nods, agreeing with Scott completely. That's what it's like ] I could hear you next door. [ But, normally, there's surround sound. ]

Of course I came to help you. [ That's not something that should ever be in question and maybe Derek laces it with a little more attitude than necessary. His frustration is coming out in his tone of voice and he backs off, eyeing the suitcase before pacing away. ] I didn't get anything like that. [ He looks back at Scott. ] We should keep that out of the way. [ Locked up. Burned, even. They don't know what residual anything might still be emanating from it. ]</small. What I got feels more like a joke, now.

But normally we would be able to tell it was, y'know. Us. [ Each other, whatever. This close, he recognizes Derek's scent, his heartbeat, his footsteps. They're going to have to find some way to compensate in this half strength - and it probably is half strength, too, half everything.

Frowning at the attitude, but not scolding or calling Derek on it, because this is stressful and he gets it, he draws the suitcase up to his chest. It doesn't feel like it weighs much, but it's heavier than anything. It's a kind of weight that the blood money had, something beyond physical. They need to do something with it, soon.

Scott does reach a foot out, lightly kicking Derek in the leg. A companionable gesture, a reminder. He knows. Derek has, really, always been there. ] I got eyedrops to treat red eyes, too. So someone thinks they're hilarious in two very different ways.

We would. [ He nods. He's compensated with his abilities being sapped over the course of the last few weeks, but he'd finally risen above it, moved past it. He'd evolved. And here he is, having regressed. But, he's not the priority. They'll deal with that. They'll deal with Scott. They'll do something.

Derek acknowledges the leg tap, his expression softening again. ]

I got a dog collar. And a hat that would fit right in at a leather bar. [ Derek's life is talking about inappropriate subjects with teenagers. ] There was a triskelion etched into the tag on the collar. [ So, yep. Someone has had their fair share of fun. ]

Is there room under the bed?

[ For the mask. ]

[ There's no doubt there that Derek will figure something out about this, not when he's the born wolf that's been through so much. He's been alpha, beta, omega. He's been human, he's had his abilities dampened. He's been a full wolf. Scott believes that if anyone can adjust to this, get the best out of an awful situation, it'll be Derek. And he'll pass that knowledge down, and they'll do everything they can to find the stupid exit. Get back to their pack. ]

That's weird. [ Stiles would have a field day with that information, though. He's had his theories about Derek and his fondness for leather for ages, now. ] Whoever's behind this definitely isn't funny.

[ He looks down at the top of the suitcase. ] Do you think it'd be safe to put it under there?

[ Damn straight.

Couldn't have said it better. ]

But, they think they are.

[ Derek's right hand is still on the top, as if he's trying to keep the mask from getting out, as if it has a life of its own. ] If you keep your door locked. People are wandering in and out of rooms. [ Who knows who or what's here - what they'd take.

One more thing occurs to him. ] You knew the combination.

[ They might have to deal with some crazy stuff, but they get shit done, okay.

Scott grumbles a little, agreement that they think they're funny, but the werewolves sure don't think they are. Kidnapping is the last thing he'd ever consider funny, but the "gifts" don't help. ]

They're trying to find answers, too. [ Hopefully. But then he looks down at the suitcase again, thumbing at the numbers. ]

You knew yours, didn't you? When I put it in, it made sense.

[ Shit done right. ]

There aren't any. [ And while he knows answers need to be found to be called answers, nobody is finding any looking through his stuff. ]

I just knew. [ That means the same goes for Scott. ]

They're also looking for free stuff? [ Okay, he was trying to be optimistic, Derek. Give him points for that, at least. He knows people have no business going through others' stuff, but a small part of him still holds to a hope that they're all better than that. ]

Yeah. [ A simple answer, and he slowly moves to stand. ] Was yours a date, too?

[ He shrugs at that, figuring they might be. ]

It was the date of the fire.

[ His fingers drum on the case. ]

Allison's death. [ It's a lot to admit to, but he thinks that Derek gets it. Death and loss isn't something he wants to bond over, but if there's anyone he can talk to about it.

Well, it's Derek. ]

[ They share the silent moment of contrition between the two of them. The moment passes and they have to push forward. ]

So, what do we know?

[ The weight held, almost indulged despite how little either one of them would like to call it indulging, Scott moves in one easy motion to duck down and shove the locked case with the horrible date and the equally horrible mask, both reminders of their hardships before this place, underneath his bed.

"Here's hoping to no nightmares," as if he doesn't have them already. ]

Our abilities are... dampened. Maybe halved? [ He looks to him for confirmation as he straightens. ] There's no door to the outside, except maybe one that's probably not an exit, but all "public" doors are locked. No staff, no knowledge of how we got here in the first place. Just - hit the floor running, kinda literally.

[ He nods once. ]

There are people we don't recognize who don't recognize us. One person claims to be a zero gravity engineer. She grew up on a space station. [ Which... sounds crazy, right? ] The one piece of machinery is a projector that repeats the same movie. Nosferatu. [ He does check if Scott catches that or even knows what it is. He'll explain if need be. ]

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[ it doesn't take long for allison to move up to the hallway. her conversation with derek was confusion at best, suspicious at worst. she chalks up the fact she was sure he was hiding something to the fact it's derek hale, and no matter how many mutual allies they may have, that won't change. but there was another unsettling feeling settling in her gut that he wasn't telling her something, something important, but it was hard to push him for answers when there was an ever present fact hanging over his head.

scott is here.

she drops her bag off in her room, just a few doors over from the one derek told her was scott's, and grabs her device. she checks the hall for any kind of anything, because she still hasn't shaken that feeling that someone was watching her, before she heads over.

because scott is here, which means scott will have a plan. and even if he doesn't, it's better that they're together, because at least then they can work on this together. she trusts scott much more than she does derek, more than she does a lot of people, and the fact he's here already has her feeling better. still frustrated, still slightly panicked, but maybe he'll know more than derek did. maybe he'll know something.

she knocks on his door - a bit frantically. ] Scott? Scott, open up. [ she checks back down the hall, but doesn't find anyone there. ]

[ Scott almost doesn't answer the door.

It would paint Derek in a poor light, he's sure, but he can't do it. He hears her voice on the other side, and his breath catches in his throat. So it isn't a case of the Thomas guy, isn't a copy, isn't a trick. If it is, it was good enough to pass Derek's inspection.

Because there wouldn't be a knock at his door if Derek didn't believe it was her.

Slowly, he moves across the room, fingers closing around the knob. Below his bed, Scott has the suitcase that contains the halved berserker mask. The combination on the lock coincides with a date, one that he's never going to forget. Like the keyword to the dead pool, it's going to taunt him for days to come. Weeks. Months. Years.

After bracing himself a moment longer, as if it'll give him an answer, he unlocks the door and opens it.

Just seeing Allison wrenches something in his chest, and he tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. ]

[ she does almost leave.

most of that is due to her jumpiness, her unease. she doesn't like anything about this place, and even if derek had told her that scott was here, she wasn't sure. why would scott be in his room? why were any of them here? she trusted derek enough to believe him when he said this was scott's room, but what if it wasn't? what would she do then?

allison bounces up on the balls of her feet for a moment, turning back and frowning to the door. if scott was there then why wasn't he answering? she knocks again, a bit harder. ] Scott? Hello?

[ she takes a step back, breathes, thinks one more minutes. sixty seconds, and then- but at the thought is caught off when she hears the doorknob turn. it opens, and scott is standing in front of her, and while she should be noticing more the look in his eyes, relief floods through her instead. ]

Oh thank god. [ comes out in a breath as she steps by him into his room - uninvited - just needing to get out of the hallway. his room is just about the same as her's, but there's a different feel to it, if only because it's scott's. she walks in and looks around, like she's checking the room, until she turns on her heels to face him again.

her expression is still a bit serious, but she feels like it's the first time she's been able to take a breath since she got here. just knowing she's not alone (because derek doesn't really count, does he?) makes her feel better. ] Derek told me you were here- my room is three doors down. [ and then she notices the tension to his shoulders, how wide his eyes are, and she stops. ]

Scott?

[ There's an attempt at a smile, a twitch at the corners of his mouth that doesn't really reach his eyes. This is - impossible, but so are a lot of other things. The kidnapping itself, the mask, the fact they've been brought to a hotel with no staff and no doors, the lapse in his lycanthropy. Peter has come back to life. Kate came back to life. Derek came back to life.

Anything is possible. Allison walking and talking in front of him as if nothing is the matter is entirely within the realm of possibilities.

He needs Stiles. He needs his mom. True alpha or not, this is too much for him. They mourned and buried her, lived with her ghost every day. Scott has tried to turn to his right so that he could tell her something, the same he had tried to turn to his left when Stiles had been missing.

But this time, there was no coming back. There was only blood on his hands and the memory of her warmth and light fading away in his arms, nothing he could do because there wasn't any pain and she was gone so fast.

It happened so fast.

Closing the door as she stops, he brings a hand up to pinch at the ducts of his eyes, taking a deep breath. ]

What's the last thing you remember?

[ it's off.

and allison doesn't think that much of herself to say she knows scott completely. there might have been a time, some months ago, that she would have - but not now. not since everything. they've grown apart and the fact in and of itself is enough to eat at her chest. but she does know him well enough to see the pain in his face, the forced smile. he's hiding something, or hasn't told her something, and she can see it written in his features as plain as day.

whatever it was she had thought was so important a moment before is gone. the whole issue with why are they here and how did they get here and where is lydia falling away like rain off her shoulders. scott looks older, too much older, and allison doesn't like the look on him. doesn't like the weight on his shoulders, the way it draws them down.

the panic and fight and urgency she'd been harboring when she stepped in is gone, now, replaced instead with a different kind of panic. cold and hard and deep-rooted somewhere in allison's chest that tells her something is wrong. scott is massaging the bridge of his nose and allison frowns. ]

The last...? [ her brows are still drawn together, but she lets out a breath instead of finishing the question. ] We were going to find Lydia and the Nogitsune. You, me, Isaac and Kira. We were standing out in front of the gate and then when we walked in I must have blacked out. I woke up here.

[ she waits, her breath caught in her chest, like the moment before you someone tells you they didn't make it. she stands strong, because she has to, because that's what argents do, and waits for scott. ]

Why?

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FIRST FLOOR (ROOMS 116 - 117)

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