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

later

[technologist]

Are you sure you should be doing that?

[ Fitz has been watching the guy go through cabinets for a solid thirty seconds, waiting to see if he'd find anything. He doesn't, predictably, and the question's more genuinely curious than chastising.

He's standing a few yards off, arms crossed somewhat defensively over his chest, shoulders a bit hunched. It gives the impression that he's only fifty-fifty about the decision to start a conversation, but points for trying. ]

[carjacked]

[ While the voice does catch him off guard, he doesn't startle. Doesn't jump like some might, rather just glances up from his task with a furrowed brow, eyes flickering over Fitz's form. After a second of scrutiny, Neal offers him half a shrug. ]

Nope.

[ He responds casually, hands still holding a set of cabinet doors open. ]

But I'm gonna do it anyway. You're more than welcome to join in.

[ It would be a cheerful tone, except there's an element of stress behind his words. Considering they all been kidnapped, he figures it's probably understandable. ]

[technologist]

[ For a moment, he doesn't seem particularly interested in the invitation. He remains a distance off, expression verging on judgmental; but then he glances back down towards the hallway before stepping into the room.

The critical look gives way to something more guarded, and he focuses on one of the unsearched cabinets rather than looking at Neal, absently opening the doors and digging around inside. ]

What do you think you'll find, anyway? I doubt there'll be any hidden doors.

[ Well. ] Not in the cupboards, anyway.

[carjacked]

[ Snoop or don't snoop, Neal's not gonna judge him one way or the other. He gets that it's a precarious thing to do, probably illegal, definitely out of the ordinary, but hey. He's an out of the ordinary kind of guy, and he's not too worried about treading on the tender toes of kidnappers, so. ]

Keys, for starters.

[ He mutters absently, brow furrowing as he tugs a mouse trap out of one of the cabinets. Tosses it back in and wipes his hand on his shirt in disgust. ]

Maybe a map, brochure, pamphlet, something telling us where we are on the map. Any kinda paperwork.

[ He adds on after a beat, sighing when he scopes out the last of the upper cabinets with no results. He shuts it finally, then turns his eyes on Fitz. ]

Don't tell me you don't wanna know this kinda stuff too?

[technologist]

[ That's all logical. Clever, even, and Fitz casts him a curious look before looking away again. It takes him a second to mull over his answer, but it sounds more nonchalant than the previous stilted attempts. ]

Yeah. But they know what they're doing, don't they? Whatever that is. Some of the people they've brought here, it'd be sort of.

[ The sentence stops abruptly rather than trailing off, and there's a sense of irritation to the silence that follows; he shuts the door of the cabinet he's been digging through, straightening up. One hand lifts, fingers snapping together once, twice like he's trying to remember something just out of reach. ]

Difficult. To take.

[ Not him, personally. But he hadn't been alone before he showed up here, and some of the others he's run into hardly come off as harmless. ]

[carjacked]

[ A huff of a laugh comes out before he can help it. Difficult to take is right. ]

Try impossible.

[ He corrects, though he's in agreement. Regina was one thing, you don't just grab the evil (but less evil lately?) queen without some serious juice behind what you're doing. Whether it's technology or magic, either way it's powerful stuff because-]

I'm dead. Last thing I remember is dying, there's no way I should be here right now, but...

[ He shrugs a shoulder. ]

Whatever this place is, if it can do something like that, it's a lot bigger than most people prob'ly realize.

[ And with that little factoid dropped, he turns his attention downward to the cabinets below the counter. Most of them are empty, safe from a couple paperclips. He sets those on top of the desk, because you can do a hell of a lot more than you realize with paperclips. Picking locks, for starters. ]

[technologist]

[ uM.

Fitz had already stopped rummaging around, but now he freezes, going still enough for the reaction to be obvious. His gaze fixes on Neal, too, staring at him like he's trying to get a read on that — decide if it's an awful joke, or an exaggeration. Or literal.

People coming back from the dead isn't exactly a foreign concept. Fitz qualifies, himself, in a very technical sense. But then there's cases like Coulson, miracles (atrocities) of science and something else. ]

How long?

[ In the end, that's all he asks. His tone's curious, but direct in a way that makes it feel a little impersonal. Like this is a project, not a conversation with a stranger. ]

[carjacked]

[ Woops sorry is that a weird conversation to have with a stranger? Neal doesn't seem all that bothered by it, frankly, though he does pause to shoot Fitz a wary look at the question. Eyes flicker over his form in scrutiny, trying to decipher the reason behind the question.

It's a weird one, frankly, not what, how, you're kidding right, why, but how long? In the end, apparently, he decides there can't be any harm in answering, so after a brief hesitation he says: ]

Not sure.

[ Because it's true. How do you keep track once you're dead or whatever, right? He shrugs a shoulder, dropping his eyes down to the drawers again with a little less enthusiasm. ]

Feels like a couple minutes, but some people from back home-

[ Lips twitch, brow furrows. ]

Seems like it's been at least a couple months for them. Prob'ly longer.

[technologist]

Huh.

[ Thoughtful, like they're discussing an interesting math problem instead of Neal's glorious return from the beyond. His gaze doesn't wander, though, fixed on Neal in a way that's possibly annoying or a little uncomfortable — but still, thoughtful. Not exactly intense. ]

I've seen... there's tech. And treatments, they can bring people back, but— it's sort of involved. The process, I mean.

[ Which is the opposite of his secret agent training, but guess what, creepy murder hotel. The rules are changing. He offers it up in an attempt explain his reaction; he's aware it isn't the usual. ]

You don't remember it? Coming back.

[carjacked]

[ See, now, this kid is taking this like... way too well, isn't he? He tugs himself away from the drawers abruptly, leaning on the counter and laying down some intense scrutiny on Fitz. People been trying to bring other people back for a couple centuries with magic, but tech? ]

No.

[ He answers flatly, a frown tugging at his features. ]

No, it wasn't- like that- hey, what- what the hell kinda treatments are we talking about here? Seriously, are people like Frankensteining where you're from? What's the deal?

[technologist]

[ Oops. Fitz withdraws slightly under the scrutiny, expression guarded and one hand scrubbing back over his hair, restless.

There's a delay while he considers the question, then a noncommittal shrug. ]

Maybe. I don't know what they're doing, exactly. It's a... it was a government experiment. But it's over, now. Whatever the magic ingredient was, they've lost it.

[ A beat. ] Not actual magic. Probably. But the important thing is that it can't be what's brought you back, in any case.

[carjacked]

[ You gotta be kidding him, the government's experimenting with the whole bringing back the dead crap now, too?

You know what, that shouldn't even be surprising. What is surprising is that they're evidently pulling it off. ]

Believe it or not, actual magic might be more likely than you think.

[ He mutters unhappily. ]

So what- you work for the government or something? How do you even know that stuff?

[technologist]

[ The mention of magic sparks his interest, expression lighting up slightly — only for him to immediately second guess playing it fast and loose with government secrets when Neal levels a direct question about it. ]

Um. Yeah, sort of. Or I used to. [ A pause while he considers saying more, then opts to deflect. Or just be nosy, since he is genuinely curious. ] What do you mean about it being more likely?