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

Entry tags:

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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[ 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. ]

So, alternate... I don't know, life? World? [ Scott literally doesn't know, this isn't his forte. ~~Stiles.~~ That sounds like an impossible thing in his head.

The movie isn't quite a swing and a miss, but it doesn't catch right. It's more like a foul ball, than anything. The face he makes says it all. ] I should know what that is, 'cause it sounds familiar, but...

Universe? [ He looks to Scott to confirm that idea. He knows it has to be, especially with Cashmere's background. But, he's not going to depress Scott about children hunting each other to death on TV. ]

Vampire, Scott. [ He needs to culture you. New York trip so he can tour you around his old haunts, including an old Greenwich Village theater. ]

Universe. [ What is this place, and why is it bringing people here from other universes. ] That's so insane. I can't believe we're talking about alternate universes right now.

[ But then, of course, there's that grounding sensation of pop culture unawareness. He looks sheepish, which is a relief considering the entire situation and their previous discussion. ] Right. Right, okay, that definitely sounds vampire-y. Vampiric.

Stiles would be having a field day.

[ He'd be stringing up colored thread. Finding patterns. He and Lydia, both. Just picture the patented, 'Scott, you're the most adorable alpha' heart eyes Derek gets. ] I don't think it has to do with anything. I think it reinforces the atmosphere.

[ At least they're not playing The Shining. ]

He'd be trying to connect universes and figuring out how they lay with ours, and if this is another universe itself.

[ Does he know much about this topic? No. But Scott knows Stiles, and that's what counts here. Be nice if he could be here to explain everything about Nosferatu, though, and to grill Derek with him about whether vampires are real or not. ] So you don't think we'll randomly see a weird looking vampires anytime soon?

[ That would be a reference he'd get, if only because of references that people made at the motel. Fitting, though. ]

Which, it probably is.

[ He's not an expert, but that's true, right? ] I don't think we can rule anything out.

[ He glances out the window to the pitched black and the faint sound of rain. ]

I haven't had a legitimate headache in a really long time.

[ Sort of a joke, in reference to how overwhelming that thought is. Make it stop. ] Great, that's just what we need.

[ Scott worries at his lips before doing the same, even moving over to peer out. Or, attempt it, anyways. ]

[ He sighs. ]

All we can do is stay alert and not let our guard down. Not get too comfortable.

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