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I. A-A-AY, I'M ON VACATION
if you don't like your life, then you should go and change it β«βͺ
II. I CAN TOUCH THE COLORS AROUND ME
this beautiful life, i think it'd be nice with you β«βͺ
III. ARE YOU, ARE YOU, COMING TO THE TREE?
stranger things have happened here β«βͺ
IV. THE HAPPIEST SOUND OF THEM ALL (NETWORK)
ring ring, why don't you give me a call? β«βͺ
V. I'M COUNTIN' ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... (BONUS)
this is my longest elevator ride β«βͺ
if you don't like your life, then you should go and change it β«βͺ
Welcome to Hotel Fen!
All guests are given the current week’s list of special activities by the cheerful blonde receptionist upon check in. There’s also a small stack of them on the reception desk should you lose yours, or if you would like a second copy.
Your itinerary reads:
MONDAY — TOO ZEN TO GIVE A DAMN
The two conference rooms in the third floor have been transformed to accommodate several massage chairs with masseuses. The two seminar rooms have also been cleaned up, and all the chairs have been settled on one side to make room for several yoga mats, spread out and waiting for people to use them. The instructors are two pretty blondes, tall and lithe like supermodels, and they're in one of those impressive acrobatic poses when you enter.
TUESDAY — HIKE MORE, WORRY LESS
There are several beautiful trails around the hotel for people to hike and explore. Some are marked as longer than others, but there are plenty of guides around with maps to hand you or actually accompany you on the hikes. They’re also happy to suggest which trail is best for you based on your level of experience.
WEDNESDAY — I WAS MERMAID FOR THIS
The pool area on the first floor is bustling with activity today. There are extra towels for everyone, there’s music pumping through the speakers, and there are a few tables set up with snacks. And while pools aren’t just for kids, there are some juice boxes and animal crackers for those who are so inclined.
THURSDAY — INTO THE UNKNOWN (BUT SAFELY)
Nestled in the small hill behind the hotel is a cave that you can rent equipment to explore. The tour guides will assure you that there’s no real way to get lost in the caves; all the paths are marked and will lead you toward the exit. So why not explore? You never know how deep they go or what you’ll find in them.
FRIDAY — A BALANCED DIET IS CHOCOLATE IN BOTH HANDS
The restaurant is holding special demonstrations throughout the day, and after the demonstration there are free samples to help yourselves to. Ever wondered how to make truffles? The dessert chef will be more than happy to take you through the experience.
II. I CAN TOUCH THE COLORS AROUND ME
this beautiful life, i think it'd be nice with you β«βͺ
Noticed the hotel's theme yet? One Saturday night it's going to be shoved into your face in full force, because it's time for the summer blót, a feast for the Norse god of war, Odin. There's going to a bonfire and face paint and singing and dancing, and of course, free-flowing booze and lots of good food. You can come in costume too, if you want to bring out the Viking in you!
III. ARE YOU, ARE YOU, COMING TO THE TREE?
stranger things have happened here β«βͺ
It's a great morning to go hiking! Or night, if that's your thing. And everything's just peachy... until you try to leave the perimeter of the hotel compound, because then you'll inexplicably find yourself on the trail leading right back to the entrance.
The phenomenon is usually accompanied by the sighting of an old, blackened tree — but once you turn and walk away from it, it disappears. The tree also never seems to be quite in the same place. What gives?
IV. THE HAPPIEST SOUND OF THEM ALL (NETWORK)
ring ring, why don't you give me a call? β«βͺ
There is no cell reception in the vicinity of the hotel. At all. No matter what you do or try, nada. And while each of the rooms have vintage telephones, they can only call other rooms, the front desk and the restaurant.
The business center next to the gym on the first floor has several computers for guests to use. They seem like they're connecting to the internet well enough, if not just a little slow, but you will never actually receive emails from anyone from the outside world other than emails designed to look like spam. Hmm, did your emails out actually reach their destination?
Don't worry, though, you're supposed to be on vacation! So why not chat up your new friends instead, or leave them messages at the front desk?
V. I'M COUNTIN' ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... (BONUS)
this is my longest elevator ride β«βͺ
Okay, we're just really here to plug the song, which was composed for our book's soundtrack. βοΈ
But yes, you're stuck in the hotel's vintage elevator. Good luck!
elevator.
Then, the elevator shifted and came to a halt. An overly dramatic sigh escaped him before he opened both eyes to look at the bloke he shared the elevator with.
"Know a thing or two about elevators, mate? Do us a favor then. Get it going again. We both have better things to do than sit around waiting on somethin' to get movin' again."
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He turned to look at the impatient British man, just giving him a once over to see what kind of person he was, before he stepped away from the back wall to look through the gate and up the shaft. They'd stopped about three feet away from the next floor down, so it wouldn't be much of a jump, and it'd just take a little bit of manhandling to get the gate and elevator doors open.
"You scared of gettin' decapitated or losin' a limb?" He asked as he started fiddling with the latch on the gate. Always a pleasant thing to ask when he's busy working to force the elevator open, but it would help to gauge just how nervous the pissy man was over little things like an outside chance of death or mutilation.
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He really didn't own a pair of those.
"Trust me, mate. Dying twice takes the edge of the whole experience off." John casually gave a one shoulder shrug. No, it was where the destination after the dying was that had him on edge. Hell wasn't on his top vacation spots. "I just don't like being inconvenienced is all."
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And the gate wasn't going anywhere with any normal pressure put to it. "Pardon me," he said, getting into a more solid stance before attempting even harder to get the thing open. As he did, the grip he had on the bar of the gate started to bend the iron, and the grip on the elevator itself made the metal groan under the pressure and when he stood back up, there was an imprint of his hand there.
"Yet another weird piece of a puzzle at Hotel Bizarro. Sorry, friend, ain't much left to do, unless you want to crawl out the hatch." He sure as hell didn't, which was why he lit his cigarette with a zippo and leaned back against the wall once more.
"John Marston," he offered up his name. Might as well, since they looked like they weren't going anywhere for a bit.
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He crossed his ankles and watched the other man scout the small elevator out. He wouldn't be standing in the way or making a fuss. He glanced at the aforementioned hatch and shook his head. He wasn't the crawling sort. At least not for something like that.
"John Constantine." He offered. "John and John. Suppose we could go off and start our own little rock band. Tour a bit. Make some money."
Except his band was shite and he didn't pretend otherwise.
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He looked at the mess he made of the door and sighed, shaking his head. Well, at least it was fun to try. He tilted his head towards the damage he caused the elevator. He figured that'd come out of his bank account eventually.
"Sounds like a damn joke. two Johns get stuck in an elevator."
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"How was it comin' back to life for you, mate? Tingly?"
He smirked. "At least we haven't walked into a pub yet."
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"Yet bein' the operative," Marston said with a smirk over a drag of his cigarette. "That's where I was headed. Well, the restaurant bar. Same difference." He looked up at Constantine again with that smirk still in place. "N'how about you? How was comin' back them two times?"
( warnings: death )
"And just what sort of variety of dead is that?" John figured he wouldn't get a straight answer regardless. Not many people are willing to share their state of being once magic got involved. "The alcohol here is only decent. Then again, considering where I was had barely any? I'll take decent."
At the question, John reached behind his ear and pulled the cigarette forward. He hadn't lit it just yet. Instead he stared at it absentmindedly. It was only fair enough given he asked personal questions. Who would of thought this would be the Elevator Sharing Caring Hour?
"First time I woke up in the bloody ocean. Had to climb out of the beach and make my way back to the village." He frowned. "Freezing cold. Had to find my own body again too."
He paused. "Second time? I woke up here in one of the rooms. Much nicer, but, still not a fan of the whole death process."
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He listened and wrinkled his nose at the deaths. "Don't figure either of those would settle well with anyone. Especially havin' to find your own body. Now I'm glad I never lost mine." A weird thing to be glad for, but he wasn't going to take the trouble of letting the thought do much more than spend a second in his head.
"As far as the second goes, I can think of a lot of worse places to wake up dead. Not nearly as many as weird as here, though. This place has a feelin' to it. Can't put my finger on it, though."
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He shrugged. "Had to find my body to get my trenchcoat back. Folks there buried me in it, but, ah, I wasn't about to walk around with out it. Most people would think the bit a bout me finding my own body would be strange."
His head tilted back to eye the way the elevator was decorated. Wolf heads, viking, just like the rest of the building.
"Somethin' other than the rest of us might be living here."
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"Far as your tryin' to find the body goes, I really ain't in the ballpark of havin' a normal existence. I'm open to pretty much any possibility. Sometimes the world don't play by its own rules, especially when it comes to death. The moment you don't die when you're supposed to, all bets are off."
It was a little odd, he realized, for him to have met another person so blithe about the paranormal, but after meeting the man with the direwolf, John didn't expect much by way of normal around this place. There were folks with technology he hadn't seen before, more sci-fi than real to him. He'd felt the energy of the place, but couldn't place just why it was setting him off. Why not another man named John who talked about dying and the supernatural? Seemed perfectly reasonable for the place.
"And what's it you do, exactly, that you're dyin' a couple times, and know about all this shit?"
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Humans were the ones who hardly had rules. The world had its own rules, and it was just how humans understood them. Magic was about bending those rules to your favor. Until they snapped back with vengeance. That was usually when someone paid the price for it all.
"Bit of a petty dabbler of the Dark Arts, me. Exorcist on occasion. Although, most people will tell you I'm an outright bastard first and foremost."
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He tilted his head as he listened, and felt a little more put at ease. If the man was a hunter, he'd have to talk him out of things, and that never went well. It usually wound up with the other guy knocked out or dead and him having to leave the city.
The last bit made him scoff, though, and his smirk spread over his face. "Might just be the name that does it. Most folk say I'm a bastard and a damned fool." And they'd be right.
"Your profession don't seem to be the type to pay real well. Greater good included, I wouldn't do it full-time. Had to deal with zombies the once, a possessed girl, all sorts of bullshit, but I ain't gonna update my resumΓ© any time soon."
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He finally slipped his own cigarette into this mouth and clicked his fingers. A flame sprouted from between them to use as a light. His lighter is in his pocket, but, he really couldn't be arsed to do much more than he already was doing. Not that it was out of spite just yet. He just purely didn't care -- or at least that is what he was telling himself.
"Greater good only calls upon me when they really need it." He said around his cigarette. "Zombies tend to be a bit easier once you find the one who woke them up."
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"Abraham Reyes was the one that done it on my end." That was his response to the zombie outbreak. "Rich bitch asshole went'n stole an Aztec mask 'cause he was lookin' to be impossible to kill." He bowed his head with a smirk, then looked back up. "And then by some other fool a few months later. You don't seem the type to be surprised by the idiocy of some folks, but there's a point where it goes from bein' a normal idiot to bein' the second idiot to spring up zombie hordes in one summer."
Luckily, it all got resolved when John took the mask that started the plague, put it back again and then dynamited the mouth of the cave closed - with respect to the Goddess herself. 1911 was a dumb as fuck year.
He looked back around the elevator with a slight scowl of 'why didn't I think to do that before', and then elbowed the floor buttons with a fair amount of force, as if trying to get someone in a line to move forward. That got a bit of a response, by way of a protesting groan from the elevator, getting it going again. It was slow, but it got down to the foyer eventually.
"Guess it needed to be reminded it had a job to do." he shoved the now-unlatched, just slightly bent gate aside and stepped out. "Catch a drink?"
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And which way the coin flipped to Midnite's own agenda.
An eyebrow raised as the elevator started going. Well, look at that. Nifty. He'd have to keep that in mind next time the thing got stuck. He had the feeling that would be something to happen again and again. Who knew how long his stay in this Hotel was going to be.
He'd make a note to tell his alternate as well.
"Could go for one. You payin'?"
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Once he was asked if he was paying, John looked like he was deliberating it, while responding, "Oh, you're one'a them broke bastards, huh? Fine, but go easy." He was very liberal with what he considered 'easy', but John knew others who he offered to buy the drinks and wound up paying for practically half the bar's stock. Constantine didn't seem that greedy, but he could never tell. As he led the way to the restaurant, he continued with the voodoo train of thought.
"Folk in the bayou got superstitions 'bout how the Nite Folk ain't human. I killed plenty enough of 'em to know that ain't true. But they're impossible to hear until they're right up on you, and I don't got bad hearin'." He could hear a conversation from a packed room away, and the sounds of the mud in the bayou as it was disturbed by a snake, but not these fuckers. "They follow the loas Legba and... Fuck, what's that other one. Pretty, mother figure, her." Damballah was hard to remember because her name wasn't a body part with an extra syllable attached.
"N'I ain't afraid of much, but those bastards creep the hell outta me."
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That statement wasn't entirely true. Good came from it by saving lives and bringing those into the fold to fight those that went bump in the night. Just, some days? It didn't feel like it was ever enough. He had fallen into one of those some days moods ever since he woke up in the Hotel.
"Good thing this hotel isn't in the bayou. Just the bloody mountains. Suppose it's time we brush up on our Norse mythology -- see what monsters we might find." He gave a nonchalant shrug. "I've got a handful rune knowledge around them, but ah, I could use a refresh."
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He waved over to the bartender, motioning for two whiskeys and an ashtray, not saying a word. He had to think back about his very sparse dealings with the Norse things he'd seen. Really wasn't much, all told. There was the stone with tons of runes carved into it, really more an outcrop at the top of a ledge overlooking a riverbank. There was the ritual site just southwest of that. And then deep into the mountains, far, far west from there, there were the faces in the trees. None of them really gave him an understanding as to the nature of the culture, so much as brief glimpses.
Beyond that, he had read a couple things about the gods themselves, but nothing that had stuck in his mind.
He took a drag of his cigarette, and pointed it at Constantine. "You know, I'm pretty sure I ran across somethin' like a library upstairs. Might have what we're lookin' for, assumin' it's got things that're accurate." In other words, he didn't trust the information this place had for them.
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The other part didn't care much anymore after everything that had happened before he found himself in the Hotel. It wasn't even a need to take it slow or a break from it all. He honestly just didn't want to care. He didn't want to take on the burden of caring for others and having their livelihood fall down onto him.
"Wonder if you need a library card to check things out."
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His leg bounced as he sat in consideration. "You really think somethin' like that'd stop me from takin' a book out?" He snorted and shook his head, before thanking the bartender as he brought over their drinks. "Somethin' tells me you ain't the type for it, either." John was no con man (really more of a thief, robber, and gunner, when he felt like playing against the law, which was often,) but he could sniff them out from a mile away.
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He, on the other hand, had a horrid reputation for pissing off everyone he met. Marston has just managed to not see that side of him just yet. It'll happen eventually. It always does.
"Have you seen a ghost librarian before? Trust me, you don't want to. So, press the damn library card if they've got one." He raised a finger and wagged it slightly. "Take it from ol' Johnny. That's one hag you wouldn't want to be on the bad side of. Gods? Oh, they'll moan and piss. Ghostly librarians? They remember."
He paused. "Speaking from experience, of course. If they haven't got a card? By all means. Take to thy heart's content."
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Then he nearly snorted his whiskey out of his nose with the addition about ghost librarians. "Can't say as I've had the displeasure," he replied, coughing a little before quaffing the first drink and leaning back.
"You really think there's a ghost up there? I wouldn't doubt it, ain't an impossibility, but I'd figure if it's here, it probably don't got a whole to-do about library cards. Just gettin' charged up to the room for its use."
Or... "Or to whoever you say you are's room."
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Everyone was a critic and no one liked making the dirty choices that gave dirty consequences. It always left him hanging the bag and the regrets while holding his head high as they all threw their deserved hatred at him.
"Oh, there's probably more than ghosts. Wouldn't be surprised given we're in a place high up in the mountains. You don't just invoke the bloody Norse Gods and not have to deal with some nasty business attached to it."
He paused and grinned. "How long do you think they'll keep chargin' that room of yours?"
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