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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rooms.

((Johanna isn't much for socializing. Especially not in this situation. After stumbling across the suitcase, she heads to the room number on it immediately, opening the door and looking around inside curiously. The tablet immediately gets thrown under the bed - she's not dumb, god - and it takes a moment before she opens the suitcase.

She'd been more curious about the place than angry initially. Upon seeing what's inside her case, her blood boils. That dress... In a quick motion, she pushes the suitcase off the bed with a guttural yell, watching as the few clothes spill out over the floor.

It's him. He's sent her here. He's got something planned; and he thinks she'd be fooled? Thinks that she'd assume she could escape?)) I'm not stupid, Snow. ((She mutters to herself, and at the same moment, she realizes that this room could be monitored.

Anyone passing by in the hallway will hear loud swearing, coupled with suspicious thumps that sound like someone is moving the furniture around in the rooms. In her fury, she's not quite remembered to close the door fully, so anyone could walk right in - if they wanted to.))

main lobby.

((After a few hours, she's calmed down enough to come down to the main lobby. She's tied the ratty sheet around her torso, and it covers enough. Whatever. In the situation, she can't bring herself to care overmuch about how she appears - after all, she's bruised and battered, and her hair is more than half-gone. There wasn't much vanity in Johanna to start with, and now, what concern she did have with her appearance was gone.

Scanning the lobby as she enters takes only a few moments. Plenty of idiots clustered around at the main desk, the front door, the windows. No one's coming to save you, she thinks, rolling her eyes, but she doesn't vocalize her thoughts just yet. For all that she's brutally honest, she knows when not to make enemies. She needs to play friendly until she can figure out more about this place.

Her thoughts on the other people stuck here, however, are suddenly interrupted by a glimpse she catches out of the corner of her eye. She blurts out, without a moment's thought--)) Don't try to open the window, you complete moron.

((Ah, playing friendly. It was a nice dream while it lasted.))

Edited 2015-02-04 05:41 (UTC)

[ after tearing apart her own room, Cashmere's grown curious about the rest of the hotel. she's finally changed out of her unitard, swapping it for the distinctly District One clothing from her suitcase. so far she doesn't recognize anyone but Annie, but she's good with faces and names so she's made a few passes through both halls trying to memorize who goes where. the shouting and general uproar from Johanna's room draws her attention because obviously someone has gone totally insane and that's worth noting.

no - not just anyone. the voice is familiar. Cashmere thinks no way and gives the door a careless shove. it swings into the wall with a thud. ]

You have got to be fucking kidding me. [ if it wasn't for the voice and her own familiarity with how Johanna carries herself, she'd never recognize the woman in front of her. ] You look like shit.

((Johanna's about to yell at whoever it is to leave, when she sees exactly who it is. For a moment, though she isn't proud of it, all she can do is stare. Cashmere-- alive. But she was certain she had killed her. Yes, she could remember the way in which she'd thrown her axe, the look on Cashmere's face as she had fallen... but here she was.

She laughs hollowly, putting a hand over her eyes for a second before looking again. Yup, still there. She must be going crazy. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. Or maybe this was some girl who looked a lot like Cashmere, who Snow had sent as a new form of torture.)) What the fuck are you doing here, bitch? ((She asks, running a hand over her fuzzy, unevenly shaved hair.)) Was killing you once not enough?

Your door was open so I thought I'd join the party. [ Cashmere's already sour expression darkens. at least now she's mad about something other than the hotel from hell. Johanna's from home, even if she is one of Cashmere's least favorite people to have ever graced the Capitol. which is saying a lot. her hands go to her hips, and she decides to stay in the doorway, well out of reach of Johanna's swinging distance - and hopefully throwing distance. ]

Sorry to shatter your pathetic little drug-induced fantasy. [ how else could anyone explain this frightening thin, bruised, bald woman? ] I'm alive and well. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're the one who looks dead.

Funny. Cause the last time I saw you, my ax was sticking out of your pretty little chest. ((Johanna gestures to the area on her own torso, smiling at the girl - and the smile is a little crazed, but that's just an act. Okay, that's eighty percent an act. Seventy-five.)) And I generally have pretty stellar aim.

Do I look that bad, though? I suppose that's what getting tortured by Snow will do to you. ((The way she says it is offhand, casual, completely without a change of inflection in her voice. She's gotten through worse. She can get through this.)) Are you sure this isn't some plan by him, dead girl? If I were you, I'd tell me if I knew what was going on.

[ Cashmere's hand goes to her own chest, protectively. just checking. is Johanna telling the truth? absolutely not. if it was, well - it's a good thing she'd be dead because Cashmere would never live down being killed by Johanna Mason. ]

Liar. [ because the Games aren't over. they just started and there's no way any of that went down in the first 15 minutes. Cashmere tries to mentally place where Johanna was during the bloodbath, and can't. she just remembers running for supplies while the rest of the pack started tearing into people. there's doubt edging in on her voice, though. nothing makes sense in the hotel. she's willing to believe a lot to find an answer. ] What are you going to do, JoJo? Fight me looking like that? Any excuse to touch me, right?

No, you're not worth the effort if you're not going to stay dead. ((She shakes her head, but the sneer slowly drops off her face as she actually looks at Cashmere for a moment. It's... really her.)) How are you here?

What do you remember before getting here?

[ is this a truce? this place is fucking weird. ]

How are you here? [ but she's going to answer the other question anyway. ] The arena. You ran off with Blight. We were at the cornucopia. I was getting the supplies. And then I was here.

You... what? The Games ended - not that you were around for it. That was... ((She trails off, looking faintly distant, then shakes her head.)) I don't even know how long ago that was.

You killed Wiress. I killed you. Then I got taken in and tortured by Snow for daring to help out little Miss Mockingjay.

[ she wants to call Johanna a liar, but instead her throat tightens. it sounds plausible, it sounds real. would she have killed Wiress? sure. if the opportunity arose. Cashmere's plan in the arena had been to get the Games over as soon as possible. she didn't want to win, not if winning meant going home alone. Brutus and Enobaria, though - they wanted to win. why not help them? ]

You killed me. [ she's not offended but wow it's unsettling to be told that you're dead. ] What did you help Katniss with? It was all true, wasn't it? The rumors about the uprising were true?

If it makes you feel any better, it was instinct. I wasn't out to get you. To be honest, I don't remember much. ((Partly because it happened so fast, and partly because the torture hasn't left her mind unaffected. She runs a hand over her head again before continuing.))

Yeah. The uprising is real. ((There's no point in hiding it from her anymore, after all.)) I was in on it, so was Finnick, so were a bunch of others, actually. I just hope she shaped up, because that girl knew nothing. I swear to god, it was so frustrating, I almost killed her myself.

[ that does make her feel better. in a strange way. Cashmere knows she would have done the same. it's how the Games work. ]

Don't get your hopes up. [ Katniss, as far as Cashmere can tell, has never known much of anything and probably would have brought the whole country down on accident and never even noticed. ] If the Games are over - what happened to Gloss? Is he okay? [ Cashmere is looking surprisingly vulnerable, so now might be a good time to lie. ]

I know, right? ((She scoffs harshly, turning away from the other girl for a moment to glance back at the mess on the floor. When Cashmere asks the question, though, she's stuck. On one hand, there's no point in riling Cashmere up - and loathe as she is to admit it, Johanna's too tired right now to engage in their usual back and forth. On the other hand, Johanna really, really doesn't like lying. Finally, she says shortly-)) You don't have to worry about him. One hasn't been affected by the rebellion. ((Both true sentences.))

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[ Now, Peter is used to being yelled at, and he wasn't quite opening the window, more observing the glass, to see if maybe it could be broken, if the panes were loose. But the woman's voice startles him, and he lets out a rather undignified sound of surprise. ]

I... I wasn't trying to open it, I know we can't.

[ He really wishes he'd sounded more firm, but instead it's more the voice of someone waiting to be struck. ]

Don't try to break it either. We've got no fucking clue what that fog might be. ((She comes up to the window herself, to draw the curtains firmly over it.)) The last time I saw something like that, it didn't turn out well.

[ Surely the fog was just that -- fog. He could be cautious, but some people are just too much. ]

I... don't plan on breaking it.

[ He stumbles backward when she shuts the curtains. ]

I don't really want to go and get hurt because I seriously doubt there's like, a medic or anything?

[ And if it's her, then he's really, really screwed. ]

((She grunts, turning her back to the window now that it's completely blocked by the thick drapes.)) If there is a medic, they'd better find me, and soon. I need painkillers.

Who are you, anyway? What is this place, other than really fucking creepy?

I mean, I think... I think there may be a first aid kit around.

[ Really, he just needs a sleeping draught or maybe a good knock to the head. ]

I'm Peter Pettigrew. [ Though he's not convinced he wants her to know his name. She seems like the type to hold grudges, and he hasn't even done anything wrong yet. ] A hotel, but... I don't know much more than you do. Nothing about how... how we got here.

I'll need a little more than a kit, but thanks for the suggestion. ((Though she doesn't sound very thankful at all.

Her tone, at least, changes from disparaging to surprised when he continues.)) We're all trapped here? All of us? Then it must be Snow - there's no other explanation. Right?

[ He really should just get away from her while he can. He might say the wrong thing and they can't have that. ]

Snow? I mean... what? It's foggy out there, but it's not like we're snowed in. [ The weather didn't control the doors, didn't keep them trapped inside and the fact that they don't know what has is terrifying. ]

Edited 2015-02-10 18:39 (UTC)

((Oh, lord. The look she levels at him could burn down cities.)) President Snow, you idiot. Who else would I be talking about?

((Yep, she doesn't know about that little multiverse theory quite yet.))

I don't... know a President Snow? Unless that's a new name for the Minister of Magic?

[ Whoever this Snow guy is, he has to be pretty terrible for someone to think he's trapped them there. But then again, Johanna isn't exactly the easiest person to talk to, either. ]

... what?

Don't fuck with me. How do you not know who President Snow is? Were you dropped on your head when you were born? ((She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, brows wrinkled in a heavy frown.))

I'm not -- I don't know who he is! We don't have that guy where I am. We have a Prime Minister, The Queen, and a Minister of Magic!

[ Cowering back a little, he wants to try and put as much space between them as possible. ]

What the hell-- are you even from Panem? ((But he's not lying. She can tell that much. He's genuinely scared of her - which she doesn't mind - and he's genuinely convinced that a President Snow doesn't exist.

What the fuck.))