𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈: 𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐍

[fenstaff]

Welcome to Hotel Fen! It's May 2021. This month's patron is Odin the Allfather. Outside the back entrance of the hotel, down a little path to the side, you'll find a narrow, hedge-lined path that leads to a small clearing among some of the forest trees. There are a few benches on either side, an invitation to sit and think, or even to sit and talk, because while you're here, it feels as if you're not alone — though there isn't anyone to see past the other hotel guests who might be wandering about. At the center of the clearing is a moderately sized altar carved out of stone. The table of the altar stands about waist high and is large enough to place a downed deer... or lay a person on. The stone itself looks old, the edges worn smooth and that light gray now darker from being exposed to the elements over the years. The spots on top of the table, well, it wasn't uncommon to leave sacrificial offerings to the gods in the past, but it's probably best not to ask what the darker stains are if you don't want to know. There's a large slab rising up from the back of the table to stand over it, which comes to a point at the top. On the slab are carvings of ravens, wolves, something that looks to be similar to that frustrating black tree that appears if you've been hiking; though on this carving there appears to be a man hanging by one leg from one of the branches with runes falling around him. There's also a large ᚨ in the center of the slab and even if you don't know Norse mythology and any of its gods, you get the impression that it represents Odin. Why don't you try leaving an offering? ■

ōs byþ ordfruma ǣlcre sprǣce, wīsdōmes wraþu and wītena frōfur, and eorla gehwām ēadnys and tō hiht
(click to expand)

I. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES (ARRIVALS)
double, double, toil and trouble ♫♪

The hotel bus shows up just after dinner on Saturday, May 1st, impeded from its usual noontime arrival by of a flat tire and a delayed flight from the United States. A load of new guests disembark — along with a group of high school (NPC) students, but so many you'd wonder how they'd fit into their ride. They're loud and rowdy, clad in robes common to British boarding schools, and they fill up the place quickly, never seeming to run out of energy or just stop chattering.



They also interrupt what's supposed to be a chill barbecue bonfire that evening. The hotel staff do the best they can to get the new arrivals settled, and also apologize profusely to their valued guests, who'd checked in weeks or even months before. 

For those staying on the eighth floor, what's incredibly strange is that the students seem to have the same rooms as some of the other guests. And yet there's been no discussion of being double booked where the students are concerned. Those that have rooms on the sixth floor will note that the students do seem to gravitate toward that floor like they are staying on it. They even have keys for the different rooms, getting off the elevators chatting rapidly to their friends like this is completely normal. But after unlocking and opening the door to the room, they simply vanish in the steps that take them over the threshold. Or did you walk past a room only to have the door seemingly open on its own but then suddenly a student is just magically walking out of it into you? 

The sounds of chatter and students running up and down the hallway at all hours of the night will also be heard even when there doesn't seem to be a student in sight. Or, is that thump and sounds of someone walking around actually coming from the bathroom in your room? Does the bed seem to dip like someone's just gotten into bed with you despite no one being there? The students are here for the duration, so you might want to find a way to cohabitate with your invisible guest. Or find someone who's willing to share their room with you, because any calls to the front desk for a room change will be answered with apologies, but the hotel is full booked so there is no room to move you to.

The week's itinerary follows that of the TDM:

• May 2, Sunday - FREE DAY
• May 3, Monday - Massage and Yoga
• May 4, Tuesday - Hiking
• May 5, Wednesday - Pool Party
• May 6, Thursday - Spelunking
• May 7, Friday - Chocolate Demonstration

Throughout the week, people just randomly show up in the different scenic areas outside the hotel, but when they arrive at the front desk they have a room waiting for them despite the place supposedly being full. Though some end up being double booked... and won't realize it until their roommate comes banging the door in the middle of the night, or steps out of the shower. (Lalala.) Please see the Arrivals tab of our directory for the complete list and details!

II. HOO-HOO! BIG SUMMER BLOWOUT! (BONFIRE)
hygge means sitting by the fire with your cheeks all rosy ♫♪

The following Saturday, May 8th, the hotel bus is late again. Or so the guests assume, since everyone in the hotel is busy and occupied with the summer blót, a feast for the Norse god of war, Odin.

There's a bonfire and face painting and singing and dancing, teenage boys and girls in Viking-inspired costumes (yes, they're still there!), and of course, free-flowing booze and lots of good food. The mead is particularly popular, for it's not only really delicious, it's also extremely potent, able to get even the broodiest of brooders loosening up and those normally unaffected by alcohol inebriated.

That's perhaps why nobody remembers new people arriving that evening?

III. TAG, TAG, TAG, TAG (WAR GAMES)
baby, tag, you're it ♫♪

The hotel bus still hasn't arrived. Or has it? Everyone's nursing a hangover on Sunday, May 9th — or at least, something that feels like a hangover. Even the students are affected, mostly keeping to their rooms and requesting room service instead of going down to the restaurant for meals.

The quiet doesn't last though, because there is a disturbance in the Force on the sixth floor, and porgs start appearing by the dozen well before the day is over. They're cute... until they start screaming. That's not going to help with everyone's hangover at all, no. And they especially seem to like calling out to one another in the wee hours of the night.

The week's itinerary reads:

• May 10, Monday - Pilates and Zumba
• May 11, Tuesday - Stargazing (because it's the new moon)
• May 12, Wednesday - Norwegian Cakefest
• May 13, Thursday - Hiking
• May 14, Friday - Lakeside Barbeque

Those who go hiking during and after the night of the new moon will report sightings 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.

During the lakeside barbecue, the guests will be handed out flyers for a game of outdoor laser tag on Saturday, May 15th, to be held out in the forest. The hotel staff has even already formed the groups and appointed team captains to save everyone the trouble. So it's time to gather around and strategize!

... Aw c'mon, don't be a spoilsport. What could go wrong with a game of laser tag?

A lot, actually. If you refuse, your audience of NPC students (management says they're too young to play) will grow hostile and start a smear campaign against you. Because they're petty like that. Did you want caricature mugshots of you posted on the bulletin board? Called names and pranked? That's the fate that awaits you.

And if you play, well, there's a chance that you're walking away injured — and you're not finding that out until well into the game. When did laser tag hurt? Apparently it does now. What are they using for these laser guns, anyway?

The outcome of the match will be OOCly influenced by several factors:
1. who the team captain is (teams can stick with their staff-appointed leader, or choose a different person, or have someone declare themselves leader, or even not select a captain at all)
2. how many in your team are playing
3. who are playing
4. what runes were selected for those who are playing
5. your team's overall strategy
6. good ol' RNG

Check out the Laser Tag tab of directory for the team assignments, and the OOC post for more details as well as plotting and the check in. The game will also result to some characters getting injured and requiring medical attention (if they play), though it's to the players' discretion where and how they get injured. The game will likewise be a memory regain opportunity for the Afterlife arrivals (and Julia).

The members of the winning team will each receive a Viking drinking horn with their names carved on it.

IV. WITHOUT YOU IS HOW I DISAPPEAR (MYSTERIES)
drain all the blood and give the kids a show ♫♪

The laser tag mishap isn't the only thing that causes a ruckus in the following week. On Sunday, May 16th, the bus that's supposed to take the students and some of the guests back to Oslo is nowhere to be found, and the hotel staff will insist that they're not supposed to check out yet. If you get angry and insist on speaking with a manager, you'll find that their records will match with what the staff's saying. You're not due to leave until... a very faraway date.

The hotel is also suddenly littered with missing posters. At first it starts in the business center, for someone named Chewie, but as the days pass you will find more posters and handwritten notes on the bulletin board at the front desk. They're people you don't know... or do you? Why do you have a vague recollection of who they are?

(Remember all those people who tagged around the TDM but didn't make it? Yup, they're the missing ones.)

The hotel management assures that the authorities have been alerted and efforts are being undertaken to find and bring back the missing individuals, but a week passes with no visible progress. Investigations initiated by the guests will not yield any results, and excursions into the forest and the surrounding areas will only result in the frustrating black tree experience on the TDM. Those who pay particular attention to the tree will even start dreaming of it — though it seems to be worse for one John Constantine of the tree carving fame. Others might just get a cute shadow bonsai dancing like Groot, or maybe the tree playfully shaking its booty, but John's is more of the creepy variety.

The daily activities will continue as scheduled, but they'll be exactly the same as the first week, and by Friday, May 21st, all activities will be restricted indoors. Not as fun, because even with the movie room and the karaoke room tensions are already higher than usual in the premises. The students' smear campaigns are getting worse, targeting those who didn't participate in laser tag, those who stole from the bar or the gift shop, those who have been snooping around, those who have pets or have brought in hordes of animals, heck even the winning laser tag team isn't safe from being blamed for the series of unfortunate events.

Thankfully, things haven't gotten violent... yet. But wait, what are these whispers of a ritual sacrifice?

TO BE CONTINUED...

Comments

ALL HAIL THE ALLFATHER (offerings)

[fenstaff]

Are you asking the Allfather for something? It will take an offering to garner his attention enough to make him consider granting you a blessing. Leave your offerings here to see what kind of answer you get.

[americanvenom]

Even though John was not all that aware of his awareness, he knew there was something about the altar that felt familiar, rooted less in the symbolism around it and the general Norse vibration of the place, and more rooted to his memory.

To sate his curiosity, John didn't ask for anything. Like he'd done decades ago, he simply put a dollar coin on the altar like he'd often done into the cup of a beggar man that once upon a time gave him the same feeling as the altar did. He stood there a moment, looking over the carvings and then nodded, feeling like he'd spent enough time lingering.

Even if nothing happened, he still felt oddly gratified by doing it.

[hellblaze]

Right, offerings to the bloody Norse gods? He half expects there to be some cult that runs underneath the Hotel. All robes, stick signs, birds, furs, and incense alike. Not much of his scene, but, he somehow always ends up in the middle of magic muckery.

Most the time it's his own doing.

He stands in front of the offering table. He lets out a long drag of a cigarette from his pack he got from Mathias. Once it's finished, he flicks the bud off to the side. Then, he pulls a fresh cigarette from the pack in his coat. He puts it in the center of the slab. Then, out comes the new knife he's purchased. Bit of blood put on the slab underneath the cigarette.

Just for added measure.

"Alright, One-Eyed Bugger, if you're there. Go on, then. Tell me how the bloody hell I got here. Given the fact I died in a town you couldn't escape from!"

[ruthlessclarity]

"Of course..." Ishtar can't even pretend surprise at this point. Nor is she sure she meant to come here. At least it doesn't feel as... Odd. But, still... it is off and she can't put her finger on it. Isn't sure she wants to least she draws ire and wrath, and having been at ground zero for an angry entity or two in the past, she's as far from keen as one can get.

Still. She's here. It'd be rude to not offer something at least. She's nowhere near as up to date on Nordic myths as she'd like, but-

She eyes the stains, swallows -this is not Yara. Odin is war, not evil and destruction, shrugs, and walks up to the altar, pulls out a rallar from a sleeve and promptly slashes open pointer and middle fingers. Smears them on the stone with a grunt and leaves her hand there for a few seconds.

"One more scar for the collection," she says with a self-deprecating scoff before turning serious, if not unsure. "...At least I think I did that right?"

[beautifulwail]

The Outside is so often full of shrines, altars, and temples, that Odin's own spectacle is something that feels almost familiar when Roshni happens upon it. There is no feeling of homesickness, but to see similarities, even here, is something she's grateful for. Of course, she steps right into the space, and pauses. Blinks. Then tilts her head to the side almost as if in realization, before she raises her hands in a placating matter. I'll be right back. Roshni turns on her heel and darts towards the hotel once more.

Ten minutes later, she's returned, this time with something in a bundle, wrapped in what looks like one of the hotel restaurant cloth napkins. She asked the staff, of course, if she could use some food for an offering, and they agreed. So here she is, to pay her proper respects, even if she doesn't know Odin or his mythos.

"Aye, I'm not going to ask why I'm here, you have your reasons. I don't question gods most days, even if there's many back home." If Xamã were here, she'd have a keener sense of where this god may actually be, but Roshni finds she has no care as she places the fruit and the glass of milk on the altar as her offering.

"I'm not sure this is exactly what you're looking for, but I hope it's enough. Go raibh míle maith agat s'what they say in the tribe." A way of a banshee thanking something, sending her blessing, especially to something far greater than what she is.

[the_widow]

Sadie wasn't much for religion, her views on god or gods or whatever could be summed up pretty simply with they're gonna do what they're gonna do if they exist. Same as anyone. So she just did her own thing.

But she could feel when something leaned a bit to the powerful and that otherworldlyness. She hadn't run across it much in her life. She hadn't sought things out as much as John. But when she found it there were some things she did as might be called ritual by now she supposed.

There were those that were gone that should be remembered and when she found places that felt powerful it felt right to recall them. So she would. Sadie removed her hat and hung it by its strap over the hook on her belt. She cleared her throat and looked around feeling a fool by half for even speaking out loud. "So, just want to say thanks for looking after John, keeping him safe. I know he's a handful sometimes but he's a good man under it all. An wherever they are Jack, Abigail, Arthur and Jake send 'em my love. Don't rightly know if this and where they went are the same but I figure you all work that out in ways we ain't meant to understand anyway. So if ya can, ya can and if ya can't, ya can't." She swallowed and shifted her weight.

"So that's it I guess, and thanks, much obliged." She started to turn but thought better of it and drew one of her knives, repeating something she'd done years ago she cut a lock of hair and braided it, tying off the golden length and leaving it coiled on the altar. She nodded, resheathed her knife and then put her hat back on to go.

FRONT DESK MESSAGE EXCHANGE

[fenstaff]

You can leave your message with the receptionist, or just stick it up on the bulletin board.

[trashylittlesecret]

[just a post-it note with a crudely drawn dick on it. someone thinks he's hilarious.]

STAFF QUESTIONS - REPORT A PROBLEM, SPEAK TO A MANAGER (IC)

[fenstaff]

Calling down to the front desk from your room because of a problem? Stopping by to ask a question? The staff is happy and willing to assist you in any way they can to help make your stay the best it can be here at Hotel Fen.

Just drop your concern or question here at the desk.

[ Note: This is for IC questions or complaints to the Staff. All OOC questions should be directed to the OOC post. ]

[counterstep]

Bucky walks by the front desk and leaves the voucher on an unsuspecting corner before jogging away.

loki | mcu

[conceivedeceit]

[ ooc planning post; prose or brackets regardless of starter, i'll match you ]

mary | may 10

[conceivedeceit]

It is not intentional to bear witness to the intimacy of sacrifice, but Loki finds himself unable to tear his attention away from the scene of the young woman paying her respects at Odin's altar. He watches from his position on the narrow, hedge-lined path at a distance, unease guiding his thumb to rub into the palm of his opposite hand. If she speaks, he cannot hear it.

He watches as she removes a blade from her boot and offers her hair as a token. He continues to watch as she kneels, ignoring the sense of propriety suggesting he look away. Though her hair sways gently around her head, he notes that none of the surrounding flora seems to move at all. The observation does nothing to settle his mild disquiet.

Predictably, she turns to leave the clearing, but Loki does not hide his presence. Instead, he cants his head to the side in silent greeting and silent question, knowing nothing of this person to color his expectations of how she might react. Now that she's facing him, he can better appreciate the difference in her fashion compared to most of the other hotel guests, but Loki does not recognize it beyond said difference.

Uchiha Sasuke // Naruto (CRAU)

[oflightningandfire]

((( Plotting post here! Feel free to throw up something random to this comment if you'd like, I'll have some starter prompts shortly )))

Open prompts!

[oflightningandfire]

He's fairly good at not being found when he doesn't want to be, and conveniently seems to disappear any time there's some group hoopla going on in the lobby or elsewhere. Occasionally, though, a tall hobo looking ninja can be found around various parts of the hotel and outside of it.

He may be in the library reading something, or enjoying a drink early mornings or late nights (alcoholic or not) in an empty corner of the restaurant. During the hiking days, Sasuke chooses to find his own path, whether its through the forest or along the mountain sides. Its more than possible to run into him in the hallways of floor six or stairwell. Though he doesn't use the gym space, early in the morning he can be found outside a distance from the hotel performing various training drills and meditations.

james buchanan barnes | mcu

[counterstep]

( may catch-all; plot with me here )

post-it notes | open.

[counterstep]

old & weary drinking club | looking for sparring partners | forming spelunking team

John Marston | Red Dead Redemption 2 : With Fangs AU

[americanvenom]

[ Here's my OOC plotting post, but feel free to jump in at any point, go nuts for whatever reason! I love me a surprise. If you don't see a prompt you like, he'll be just about everywhere you want to meet him. Despite my top level, I prefer past tense. I'm confusing. ]

Prompts

[americanvenom]

I. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Sunday:
There's a cowboy at the bar.
Well no, that would be boiling things down to the basest of first impressions. At first glance, there's definitely a cowboy at the bar, nursing a whiskey in one hand while a lit cigarette is held in the other. John Marston holds the cigarette in a way that naturally would shield it from the wind, which, granted, would be great if he was outside, but he always holds it that way, like some old timey grandpa might. If one were to be looking at him from the right side, they'd see some pretty wicked scars across that side of his face that carve out blank wells from his black stubble. He's got on a holster belt, one revolver tucked in a holster, and a hunting knife hanging behind it in its sheath.

What most people don't realize is he always looks like this, and has pretty much done so for decades, with the exception of changes in fashion, and even those didn't change how he dressed very drastically. Still a man in denim and cotton, with leather boots, and a felt and leather hat. Those boot-cut jeans might be a little wider than usual for him, but you find boot-cut in the late 1960s that didn't go full bell-bottom. Damn fashion industry, ruining perfectly good ranch clothes for the sake of American counterculture. Those damn kids with their free love and trippy music -- And him right there in the middle of it, supporting it wholeheartedly.

As middle of it as any seemingly 30-something who actually lives on a ranch and has no real ties to society could be. See, John Marston, he's not exactly what one could consider a law-abiding citizen. Hasn't ever been.

So okay, there is a cowboy at the bar. An anachronistic, anarchist outlaw. A rebellious spirit who mowed down what was left of the Rebels. A man who really could use a good whiskey. Good thing he's got one. Bad thing is, it's not doing him a damn lick of good. He hasn't put a good buzz on since 1907. Different metabolism. Different dietary needs.

Come have a drink!

Monday:
John isn't the type to be interested in silly things like yoga. Stretching is fine, he can stretch on his own. Massages aren't really necessary from anyone but his partner. So what you've got instead is a man outside. He's got his two mutts with him, one of them maybe some sort of german shepherd mix if you squint, and the other might have had lab in the mix up the line. Their tags read Mae and Roscoe, if you get close enough to pet them. They're friendly, off their leashes, running up to just about any with full-body wags and sniffing. If they jump up, John is quick to call them back to him and apologize.

Later that day, he's out at the stables. He's getting to know the horses. The man's got an affinity, you see. He knows horses like the back of his hand, having had grown up riding, wrangling, rustling, taming, breaking, and training them. These horses, though, the breed this stable offers, they're nothing like what he's got at his ranch at Beecher's Hope. They're stockier, with longer fur than would be advisable in the warm climate of Texas. But he likes them plenty, anyway.

Tuesday:
Who doesn't love a good hike? You might find John on the main trails, but he only is on them for maybe thirty seconds at tops. He's up into the woods on the desire paths and deer trails - those count for trails, and he will absolutely make an argument to that effect if someone points out that the tour guides said to stay on the trails. John is laying out a mental map of where the best hunting is. He's got dietary needs that the hotel probably won't provide, and his habits are such that he wouldn't ask if they could provide, anyway. Hell, it's likely that whatever he doesn't use of the animals he drains will be given to the hotel to be cooked, or skinned, or really just used to decorate their foyer. It doesn't really matter what they do with the carcasses in John's eyes, so long as they're put to good use.

He might actually toss one on the altar to see if that'll disappear like his coin had.

But that's only when he's hungry. For now, he's just exploring every last trail, his camera bag slung across his shoulder.

Wednesday:
John isn't a fan of pools. He's really not a fan of water of any large amount. But he's around anyway. There's a hirsute vampire with a pendant around his neck, a farmer's tan, and a pair of knee-length red and white striped shorts sitting under an umbrella-shaded table. You won't see him in the pool, but you'll see him possibly talking to his partner who has taken up in one of the hot tubs with his legs submerged and the rest of him settled at the edge.

Thursday:
John has decided that the caves aren't worth exploring, after he realizes there's not a whole lot of exploring down there which he could do and feel accomplished by finding something new. It's a lovely thought, and he sure loves himself a cave, but these caves feel off to him, and he's in no way interested in poking around them this week.

Instead, what you have is John Marston in the foyer, pinning up a few photos on the bulletin board, and then going out to have a smoke over by the lake while his dogs play on the banks. He's got his camera again, this time up on a tripod, and he's taking the occasional photo, spending his time on it too. A man needs a hobby, and his is shooting things. Whether it's with a gun, or a camera, or craps, this man loves to shoot.

Friday:
The fact that John was once a sweet tooth has never gone away. He may have traded his sweet tooth for fangs, but he's watching the chocolate demonstration with mild interest, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and ankles crossed at the floor. He eventually gets bored and walks back to the bar to have a drink instead.

II. Big Summer Blowout

Finally, some good fucking booze. John has, to this point, only ever had mead maybe twice in his existence, and neither times did it affect him. This time, however, he can feel the buzz of alcohol make his way through his body, while he keeps himself levelheaded enough to take the occasional photo and wonder just why he's getting the same vibration from the party as he had at the altar, the same energy as the blind beggar man from long ago. It doesn't bother him so much, he just figures it's got to be something about Odin, and he appreciates it. It's the kind of feeling that isn't so much the feeling of home, as it is the feeling of reminiscence for him. The familiarity isn't a comforting one, nor is it one that sets him on edge.

Once he finally sits down, it's on a log at a fire, where he winds up spacing out as he looks at the flames. It's the sort of thing he's used to doing to shut his brain down for a while. His partner has seen him do it countless times but there's rarely a chance to truly let himself get lost in the firelight like he did long ago.

III. War Games

Hangover or not, John has a plan for the day. He got the word he's the team captain for some sort of battle game. He doesn't really seem to understand what laser tag is at first, but he has a feeling he can get it if it's explained in more detail. It's not the first time John's been in the middle of a four-way shootout, and certainly not the first time he was heading up one part of that shootout. The difference here is, ostensibly, that nobody's going to die.

So he begs a binder, some paper, and a marker off the front desk workers, and goes to sit in the foyer with a sign of his own making, which reads TEAM THOR and a subtitle of meet your captain, let's talk shop

jacen solo | star wars eu

[soloflight]

[ ooc: plotting post is here, and i'll be carrying over tdm threads under this toplevel too just for some semblance of organization, lmao. hmu at notanybunny if needed; i'll be slow for the most part but i'm around. ]

elevator, week of may 9th ▷ closed to john constantine (tdm continuation)

[soloflight]

Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son

[prodigalmess]

[ Open and closed prompts will be posted below. Please feel free to PM me or contact me at sparks_fly if you'd like something specific! ]

OTA

[prodigalmess]

May 13th - Outdoor Yoga

No, this is not a hotel sponsored event, but Malcolm Bright does what Malcolm Bright wants. Since it's a nice, cool morning, he decides to do his daily yoga outside near the lake. With all of the weird and unnatural things that are happening, he needs to be able to keep his focus. Yoga helps him balance his mind and stay present in the now.

Passers by may note that he has considerable skill and flexibility as he moves through the poses. He's not opposed to people joining him, but he'll probably be relatively silent until he finishes, sitting on his mat and drinking some coffee after his meditation.

May 15th - Laser Tag Aftermath

Malcolm is, apparently, a magnet for injury. He didn't even want to play laser tag to begin with and now he's somehow ended up being burned by a laser. Yet another thing about this hotel that isn't right. His left bicep feels like it's on fire and the laser only grazed him. He can't even imagine the kind of pain he would be in if he'd gotten the brunt of the shot.

After Anna makes sure he's okay and drops him off in the team room, Malcolm tries to get a better look at his wound. His sweater is singed through, leaving the skin raw and red underneath it. Even a gentle touch leaves him hissing.

He glances around the room. "Is there a first aid kit in here?"

May 16th - Investigation

Malcolm probably should be resting, due to his burned arm, but he's shit at resting. Instead, he puts on a new bandage, throws on a sweater, and tries to ignore the throbbing pain. He had to put off his investigation yesterday because of the stupid laser tag game. Now, he has to make up for lost time.

He's seen around most of the public areas of the hotel, coming up to people with a notepad and a pen, looking as professional as he can without a badge. (Not that he carries a badge on the job anyway.)

"Excuse me," he says. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

rey — star wars

[scavenged]

[ ooc; plotting post can be located here. feel free to pm this journal, ping me on plurk merigold or in the discord. open and closed prompts below. happy to carry anything over from the tdm.]

✦ bonfire ( arrival, sunday, may 9th ) — open

[scavenged]

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Tucked away in the dense forest surrounding the Resistance base on the jungle moon Ajan Kloss, Rey leans back against a thick trunk of a tree, her gaze upward as she looks into the night sky — split between being engulfed by the gas giant Ajara and the vast blackness speckled with stars beyond. A heavy sigh escapes her as her head finally rests against the tree, the humidity in addition to her training that just concluded making her clothes and the annoying stray hairs cling to her.

Rey knows she shouldn't linger in the jungle longer than she already has, but she enjoys the solitude away from everyone else — it allows her to clear her mind and attempt to call forth the Jedi of the past to help her, but it always ends in failure. That doesn't mean she can't enjoy the quiet and little bit of peace she can get before someone wants something from her where she's flying across the galaxy. She usually doesn't mind the life she has fallen into with the Resistance, but she's exhausted and beginning to fray around the edges.

General Organa, her current Master in the ways of the Force, has noticed and commented on the change in Rey's demeanor, but she's too stubborn to acknowledge it — pushing through and burying everything, just like she did on Jakku and how she survived fifteen years alone in the unforgiving desert landscape.

Pushing away from the tree, Rey begins walking back to the Resistance base, her hand idly running over the familiarity of the lightsaber at her side. As she rounds a tight cluster of trees, Rey doesn't notice the change in scenery right away. No longer is Rey in the dense jungle forest of Ajan Kloss but emerging from the woods filled with spruce and pine of the Scandinavian mountainside. She pauses just outside the tree line, her brows furrowing as she looks around, her hand immediately wrapping around the hilt of her lightsaber, muscles tensing as she prepares an attack that never comes. Slowly she releases the saber and walks back the way she came, wondering if she took a wrong turn somewhere, but finds herself deeper into the woods.

Not wanting to get lost in an unfamiliar place, Rey heads back towards the bonfire and approaches the first person she finds. "Excuse me, I don't mean interrupt, but where are we?"

After getting her answer, Rey wanders aimlessly around the bonfire, occasionally sitting or making conversation with other people as she tries to wrap her head around the fact that she's no longer on Ajan Kloss and has no idea she isn't even in her own galaxy anymore.

[ ooc; sometime during the evening rey has a rather heated discussion (see the option one thread) with a tall goth ben solo, feel free to have your characters witness the blowout. ]

Mary Kelly | The Scourge of Whitechapel

[fairginger]

[OOC: Plotting post can be found HERE. I'm pretty open to plot ideas and shenanigans, feel free to hit me up or add me at la_fille_en_histoire]

OTA

[fairginger]

I. Arrival

Arriving at the hotel, it was the first time Mary had used a carriage in a long while. The sharp reminder of the West End and living like a lady was a welcome one, helping to put her in a good mood for a largely unknown place and a clearly unsettling one. Perhaps it was because of how remote it seemed or it might have been something else. She was always receptive to something not being quite right, whether of her own making or genuine danger.

Still, she wasn't even perturbed when she found out that the hotel was overbooked and she would need to share a room with someone. What did she care? At least her bed wasn't going to have a corpse in it and there weren't 12 people to a room. Already it seemed more luxurious than Whitechapel.

She didn't spend long in her room, instead going to the shop she had seen others frequenting. Curious, and ignoring the sense that reminded her of how these debts were expected to be paid, she went ahead and charged some things to the room. In the lobby, she sorted what she had, pulling up her skirts over her knee so she could stick a knife in her boot. She wasn't about to be a victim here, whether it was dangerous or not.

Having monopolized one of the chairs for readying herself, she noticed someone watching and likely waiting. "Did you want to sit here?"

II. Exploring

It wasn't that the hotel was lacking in anything. It was luxurious and comfortable, the sort of place she would want to frequent, especially during her better years in the West End. But Mary had never been someone who enjoyed being idle or preferred to sit around her room. She wanted to walk, to explore and see what was beyond this place.

There was talk of a tree, one that seemed to appear and disappear at random. She had seen it in her peripheral, but didn't pursue the matter. What interested her was reaching the town that was supposedly nearby. Yet each time she managed to pass the perimeter, she found herself back on the path towards the hotel. By the third or fourth go round, she was getting frustrated and quite unnerved. What sort of place was capable of that?

Eventually, tired of being transported, she finally sat down beside the path, trying to wrap her head around this. "Why are they keeping us here through magic?" It wasn't the magic that disturbed her, oddly, it was the intent.

III. Blood Sport (Laser Tag)

Guns weren't something she handled often. Certainly in play with some of her more well to do clients, but she'd never fired one and didn't have the luxury to own one. The game, as explained to her, was largely ridiculous. After having come from a scene of carnage and murder, where women were literally hunted on the streets, playing a game with those elements didn't sit well in her stomach. There didn't seem to be that much of a choice, so she would have to make do and survive as she always had. Keep her head down and hide.

She moved about stealthily, having a few near misses when someone crossed her path, only managing to avoid actual fire fight by ducking out of sight. What she needed was a place to hide with her back to a wall. It took some time to find something. An out of the way corner not many people seemed to pass or were interested in. Perhaps because it was so small and out of the way. Regardless, it would do for now.

Settling in, she listened for approaching steps or the feeling of a threat nearby. If she had to, she'd wait it out here. At least until this ridiculous game was done.

IV. Wildcard

[OOC: Feel free to craft your own adventure or just hit me with a random scene. I'm open to anything.]

Jeyne Westerling | A Song of Ice and Fire

[widow_of_the_crag]

[OOC: Plotting post can be found HERE. I'm pretty open to plot ideas and shenanigans, feel free to hit me up or add me at la_fille_en_histoire]

OTA

[widow_of_the_crag]

I. Laser Tag - Injury

Jeyne hadn't liked the gun when it was handed to her and she hadn't liked it when she was taught to fire. Tag she was familiar with. She had played it enough times with her brother in the rubble of the Crag to have a sense of the game. But using these guns, attacking each other, it was unnerving and left her feeling as though she were being hunted. Even she was aware that she wouldn't last long and might well be one of the first few eliminated. While it might have been humiliating any other time, she was a bit relieved. A harmless means of being taken out of the game, allowing her to watch instead and not partake in something so intimidating.

Ultimately, things went beyond her expectation. As she suspected, she hadn't made it very far before someone found her. The man was big and burly, her neighbor she recognized. There was little point in firing a shot. She knew she'd miss and she was done for either way. But the moment he fired, there was a searing pain in her side, as though someone stuck a torch near her heart. She shrieked, falling to the ground, but unable to support herself with her arms. The pain had spread, burning the underside of her arm as well as her chest. She could smell burnt flesh and smoke. There were small tendrils emanating from her. The lasers weren't supposed to be real. This was supposed to be harmless.

She didn't remember being escorted out, but when her senses return, she's lying in the room eliminated players were taken to. There was cloth bandaged to her side and the smell had finally died off. Instead, she could feel the scabs starting to tear any time she flinched or moved. "I..." she gasped at the pain. "I thought this wasn't supposed to happen?"

II. Tended To - Closed to Jacen

It was a strange reversal from when they met. Instead of her caring for him, as she had cared for Robb, Jeyne was in bed now, covered with bandages around her chest. There was the stink of medicine, thankfully not as sweet as Milk of the Poppy. She would take this stench to that. It meant sleeping and sleeping brought dreams. After the accident, she didn't want to face the violence that always seemed to manifest in her dreams.

Jacen was kind enough to keep her company and look after her, offering a bit of comfort in this horror. Still, she worried for him, not exactly recovered and still dealing with everything he went through. Having him there was much needed, but she had no desire to be selfish.

"You should rest," she offered, giving him the chance to leave if he wanted.

III. Recovery - Exploring

After the incident, Jeyne had to remain bandaged with her arm in a sling. The injuries were too deep to be ignored. It wasn't exactly how she wanted to face this supposedly safe haven. Not that the Lannisters would have been any better. Frustrated with staying in bed all day, she gingerly walked through the hotel and across the grounds, getting some form of exercise as she recovered.

That tree was still there, almost taunting her. It was hard to say why she felt so drawn to it, but it maddening in its own way and this mystery was better than suffering. She tried to find her way to it, only losing sight of the tree in the process. After awhile, she gave him, sitting near where the bonfire had taken place. There were no signs of the event, only small bits of ash and soot sprinkled about.

"Strange things keep happening," she murmured to herself. She fiddled with a stick with her good arm, drawing patterns in the ground. "I wonder if this place wants to harm us?"

IV. Wildcard

[OOC: Feel free to craft your own prompt. I'm always eager and willing to write new things. Come at me!]

Dick Grayson | Titans

[farcry]

open & closed prompts below

open

[farcry]

(( Daylight ))

01 // wide awake, getting half-past zero / hotel hallway / open

[ it’s his first week and already, the number of things that are not quite right are already adding up to a pile. it’s late, but he hadn’t meant to fall asleep when he sat on the bed in his room, so when he bolts straight upright to the sound of a loud slam, his heart’s pounding in his chest. the doorway to his room is wide open. again.

there’s a knife harnessed to his side, strapped to his torso under his jacket. a quick check confirms it’s still there. he slides out of the bed and into the hallway, noting the strange indentation in the mattress beside him. there’s the sound of a rowdy bunch of students outside. rolling through his feet, Dick scans the space, noticing that a few of the other doors are open as well. ]

[A]

Hey. [ there— that person’s on his floor, right? the look on his face is grim. ] Did you see those kids run by?

[B]

[ a whole fourty-eight hours and this is starting to top the number of hours he’s been awake. something about this place eats into the obsessive part of him that he normally tries to avoid. he feels a shadow behind him, cast ahead by the lighting in the hallway. Dick turns around too fast, not realizing how close the presence had been and ends up grasping their shoulder to avoid knocking them over. ]

Shit. Sorry--you scared me. [ fuck. he’s so tired. ]


02 // right now, laying here alone is heaven / bonfire / open

[ at least the fire’s warm. at least the smell of smoke is a familiar welcome. he takes a swig of the mead, swallowing down the sweet, cold liquid as he stares at the orange flicker. the sound of the hotel is familiar, too, the conversations, the laughter, the company. company, as if he’s met more than a few of them. quietly, he chuckles at the costumed boys and girls dancing around the fire. his senses are slowly dulling--he knows this, mitigated by the mead that’s surprisingly strong. it’s a welcomed respite. ]


03 // bad luck, I don't wanna be home at midnight / lobby / open

[ nightmares. again. Harley was right: that goddamned tree is stalking all of them. there’s something familiar about the imagery but he can’t quite put his finger on it. it’s pitch black outside. it’s the colour of the tree, a cloak over everything that he looks at. but the night is his hunting grounds. with a quick stride, Dick heads down to the ground floor, determined to venture into the forest.

before he stops in his tracks, staring at the image of himself staring right back.

THE WORST DICK, the poster reads in big red letters, bolded like one of those wanted posters all over Gotham. what the fuck.

a mugshot?! Dick pulls the poster off the bulletin board to get a better look at it, then gives the lobby a once-over. where'd they even get this photo of him? this was from when he did his jail time way back. who did this?! ]


04 // sun’s up, I don't really wanna fight the daylight / various / open

[ as much as his mind circulates around the strange happenings of the hotel, his body is restless. Dick can be found jogging around the hotel, in what circles he gets stuck in, using a tree (not The Tree) as a wooden dummy to spar with, and grabbing a drink or two. make eye contact with him and he’ll give a friendly but distant nod and possibly introduce himself. ]


(( ooc: wanna be friends? wanna lend him a hand? spar with him? invite him to sleep in your room if you're not on the eighth floor? he'll appreciate it! hit up prompt 4 for basically anything else. i can be found at the game discord or at riewunsch. ))

Hannah Solo (r!63 Han Solo) | Star Wars

[parsec]

1 - May 22nd - WANTED

[ it's not the first time Hannah has seen a poster of herself, but it is the first opportunity she's seen a paper one she could rip down - which she does. It reads THIEF which is not untrue but in her defense they haven't said a damn word about where Chewie is. besides, she's been called worse.

Hannah crumples the poster and shoves it in her pocket. she hears footsteps behind her and turns with a grin at whoever has come to check out the many posters. ]

Don't get too close, they'll accuse you of associating with criminals.

2 - May 8th - Bonfire

[ things have started to take a weird turn at the hotel but there's not much that would keep Hannah away from free booze, so here she is. she's even given in and agreed to some face painting (and later, after a few cups of mead, quite a fair amount of body paint).

she's not really the dancing type but she does stake out a spot at a table and sets up cups for a drinking game. and what's a game without a little betting? Hannah calls out to people who've noticed her set up: ]

Anybody care to make things interesting?

3 - May 21st - Locked Up

[ the staff has made it very clear that people are not allowed out of the hotel, which is exactly why Hannah is snooping around looking for another way to get outside. She investigates both the second and third floor, trying all doors and windows.

if she had a companion, they could probably try and get out of a window on a higher floor. or maybe someone just wants to see what the noise is about because as usual, Hannah is not particularly skilled at being inconspicuous. ]

22nd May - WANTED

[rainofcosmos]

That's nothing new, back home I was being accused of that just before I arrived.

[There's an eyeroll and a snort behind that statement. A thief for taking his sister back from kidnappers, what a joke, but he's used to that contradictory behaviour from those that live pampered lives Above.]

Far as I'm concerned, everyone's done something another person would call "criminal".

John Constantine | DC Animated Movie Universe | OTA

[abracafuckingdabra]

II.

[John needs a drink. Honestly, John is always in need of a drink. He bounces between extremes in his emotions and when the downs hit they're dramatic. So another bonfire boozing spree seems to be just the ticket for another shitty mood. John can be found moving around the crowds at the bonfire, eating and drinking, in various stages of sobriety. But overall, his mood is good and his spirits are well lifted. The mead is to thank for that.

And if you make the mistake of getting too close? He'll be trying to get you to drink up too.]

III.

[John has had a busy week. Each day he had a plan from the start. And that plan was to investigate every single possible incident or piece of even potentially important information that might help him figure out the mystery of this not so fine establishment. He goes in and out of corridors, sneaking into every possible place he can manage to, looking for secrets hidden among the staff and the grounds. There's got to be a trick to it all, something he can use to further gain information beyond what he was able to glean from the offering he made to the Allfather.

But in the meantime, he still has to eat. Fresh air can't hurt either. Besides, if someone else has figured out something John hasn't? He won't find out by sulking in Ronstadt's room all the time.

John can be found out gazing at the sky on the eleventh, investigating on the thirteenth, and thoroughly stuffing his face on the fourteenth at the barbeque. And all throughout he can be found wandering the grounds and drowning his sorrows at the hotel bar.]

III. Locked to Ronstadt

[John couldn't care less about laser tag. It sounds bloody boring and miserable, a cheap sort of excitement for some that just doesn't suit him at all. So he refused to participate. Instead he took the time to try to take inventory of what was left in his kit, and work on restocking. And once that was done, he flopped onto the bed and passed right out.

It's a deep sleep. But the ghosts are there. The only reason he thinks that he's dreaming is because Chas is there. And Chas knows him in the dream. So it's false mostly likely instead of real ghost. And it's nice, in a strange way. It's good to see him, even if he hates John in the nightmare. Ritchie is there too. And few others with them. People who's names he never knew but who's faces he'll never forget. People who paid the price for knowing John, who suffered for not listening when he tried to run him off. And then Ronstadt is there, suddenly. And John feels sick, even in the dream.

He's waken up suddenly by sound of the door unlocking, and Ronstadt being assisted in. He looks rough, and John scrambles up to help, taking over and kicking the door closed almost too soon for the poor staff member's comfort. John doesn't care one bit, and he might turn his ire onto the worker later if he can't calm himself before then.] Christ! What happened? I thought you were playing sodding laser tag?

ii. the eleventh

[outlierdirector]

[ Jesse, on the other hand, hasn't had too much of a busy week. Not yet, anyways. Although she has managed to make a new... acquaintance. Someone who has an eye for fashion (or, fashion has an eye for her). Sakura seems like a nice young woman. Though, part of Jesse always wants to remain distant and not very involved with people. Maybe that will help her now here in this investigation. Or, maybe it won't.

She stops as she recognizes someone else she's already spoken with once. Right, they were supposed to share what they've found out so far. Well... there's a few things. Somehow, though, she thinks that she's ultimately come up a bit short handed in what should be a more sharing experience. ]

Do any of the constellations look different from what you're used to?

[ 'Right, Jesse. That's not awkward at all.' ]

Iris "cosmos" Alfel | OC

[rainofcosmos]

[ooc: Plotting post here. Irl has been murder on my ability to tag so I've been super slow, apologies! Open things will be below. Hmu on discord or Plurk (both of which are listed in the plotting comment) if you want something specific! I'll do brackets or prose to match, I'm not picky.

Iris is also on Team Tyr for Lazer Tag]

[rainofcosmos]

(ooc: as a note, I'm not canonizing anything from the TDM since I fell really far behind suddenly last month)

Arrival, Evening of the 7th

[He doesn't know how or when it happened, but Iris ended up losing sight of his friends as well as Uri and Primrose, ending up in some unknown forest with a lit building in the distance.

The bad mood kicks in almost immediately, but at least there's a place for Aika to rest, so he takes the chance to land near the doors.]

Where the hell is this place? Doesn't look like anything near Caelum and the Borea Forest.. and where the hell is my sister?! Don't tell me those bastards caused this, I'll kill them for real if they did.

[Mostly he's fuming to himself, although his voice is raised louder than he realises outside.]

11th May - Stargazing

[Iris still has been in no mood to socialize, but he can't help but want to go stare at the night sky and make sure he can still read the sky.

Only to see that the stars are a little off from what he knows. The constellations are the same, but their places in the sky aren't, which leaves him puzzled and raising an eyebrow as he moves his hands up to attempt to map out the stars. To little success.]

Hey, these stars look any different to you?

14th May - Barbecue

[Food is enough to get him out and have some social fun, he's convinced himself that if he's staying in this weird place, he can at least get to know the area in case of any emergency.

As well as let Aika fly around.

Though the fliers for laser tag have piqued his interest, mainly not knowing what the game is.]

Anyone wanna tell me what "laser tag" is? Never heard of it.

Wildcard or laser tag things

[ooc: something else in mind during the rest of the week? Have at it.

I do intend to have Iris participate in laser tag and he's on Team Tyr, so any teammates wanting to help him with the laser gun out or watch him zip and flash around once he's got the hang of it.]

anna morasca/prudr anarsdottir | original character

[hraustligr]

(( can do either prose or brackets, am happy to match styles! please feel free to hit me up on Plurk expectedtheworld with questions or plotting wants! ))

i. MAY 5TH | did someone order the mystery arrival?

The last thing she remembers is sitting down on her couch and the cats curling up on her lap and around her shoulders, respectively. She thinks she remembers drifting off for a moment, but when she wakes up she's outdoors? And on the ground, apparently.

Anna scrambles to her feet, hand going to the gun holstered on her hip until she hears two familiar meows. Milena - her long-haired white cat, and Varese - her large gray tabby - are pressed to her legs, ears back and fur spiking. Where the hell are they? How did they get here?

"What the fuck is going on?!"

ii. MAY 8TH | pass the mead and praise the allfather

Something about this place feels... off. Well, in addition to the mystery of it all. It feels almost... personal for Anna. Like she's supposed to be here and there's something she's missing?

Anna avoids the mead suspiciously and opts for a glass of red wine instead. She posts up leaning against a nearby tree where she's got the best vantage point on exits and any potentially unruly patrons. Getting lost in the glow of the bonfire, she feels something almost... scratching at the back of her mind. It's the most vague sense of deja vu she's ever felt. The carvings in the hotel, the celebration of Odin, it's all so strangely alluring.

iii. MAY 15TH | bang, bang, into the room

Laser tag?! What fresh hell is this? They're all stranded here against their wills and surrounded by weird shit left and right, but she's supposed to just play laser tag like it's a normal day?

Worst of all, she's a ... Captain. For team Hodr. Something in her is pleased that of all the teams she could have ended up on, it's his, for some strange reason. From what she's gathered, this place has pulled people in from all sorts of times and even planets. While the laser tag guns look easy enough to operate for her, one look at a few of her teammates tells her that they might be in trouble unless she can quickly teach them what to do.

"Hey, how're you doin' with all of this?"

ii

[abracafuckingdabra]

John has not avoided the mead. In fact, he's done the opposite of that. And it's left him in one of the greatest moods he's been in for a long time. He's a channeling the inner social butterfly that he didn't know he had, and flits about the group with warm interest. He certainly won't be so friendly later, but for now he's having a blast.

He notices that there's a bit of a wallflower among them, wall being a tree of course, and he goes over for a quick visit. "Not one for the mead, luv?"

[subjectthree]

⟁ I. hotel - MAY 1-14th

---

[The bus ride allows Julia time to reflect on the fact that, now that she thinks about it, this might qualify as her first proper vacation... anywhere, really, not counting those blurred and distant outings from childhood. Definitely her first time out of the States. And what a gorgeous first locale to cross off on a map. Those first early days see her following close behind the itinerary, barely in her (thematically on point, jesus christ) room except for appropriate wardrobe changes: running shoes for when she filters outside with the other guests to explore the grounds; some throwaway clothes for a much-needed massage; a slightly heavier sweater for those nights around the bonfire, a log seat under her a drink cradled on her knee, and a musing this is stronger than I thought comment at the bystander next to her.

The hotel's basic amenities are nothing to sneeze at, either. The pool... Holy shit, the pool. Must be nice for those people in apartment complexes with ones half the size. Eager to be one of them at least for the duration of her stay, she throws on the pink and black swimsuit she'd tossed in her suitcase, taking advantage of pool party day and several other blocks of time besides. Don't they say vacations are supposed to be about lounging at resort pools, anyway?

Whether on days she's catching the water dripping from her hair on a spare t-shirt over her suit, often the long wait for the elevator consists of her turning to a new face with a hey, I'm Julia and an offered hand if they're so inclined.]

⟁ II. Laser tag

---

[Hindsight being 20/20, she should've known better than to give into a team sports activity put together in the same vein as elaborately stupid trust building exercises at corporate retreats. It's a bit much from the start, pulling on a form-fitting suit like a sci-fi movie extra raiding the costume department, but--when in Rome or something? Though if she'd had any idea this was what Norwegians with too much time and money got up to...

What starts as extravagant way to work up a sweat and spend an afternoon takes a turn relatively quickly, though she doesn't find that out for herself until it's her turn to take a hit that feels as real as any live projectile. It comes from behind and she skids when her legs go out from under her.]

⟁ III. business center - May 16th and beyond

---

[The veneer crumbles a little more each day like one of those waffle cakes she'd so enjoyed at their cakefest. Twice now the bus has failed to come, and Julia feels a pressing deja vu. A sense she's done this before. The resort is beautiful, and she has the freedom pick any direction and walk, taking in the brisk mountain air, and yet the sensation the walls are closing in is acute.

After laser tag her back and neck muscles rage at the slightest twinge of movement, a thing not helped when she dresses and drags herself downstairs only for one of the boarding students to knock shoulders with her hard enough in passing to twist her around. Whipping around to stare after them almost hurts more, and she has to stand a moment, pulling in a breath through her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, to stop from vocalizing the hurt. For fuck's sake, those boarding students.

She proceeds on to her destination with a concentrated effort not to let the stiffness into her gait for her trouble, leaning into the doorway.] Has anyone actually gotten a message from somebody yet? Anyone?

⟁ IV. wildcard

---

[Your one stop shop for any other scenarios or locations you feel like rolling with. Drop 'em here!]

[fukiishi]

▌ I. ARRIVAL - MAY 3RD

---

[Snow and trees. At first, nothing about snow and trees registers as off to him, not when a winter's journey to Pennsa contains an abundance of both. Alternating between riding on a sore backside and marching on sore legs has given Kofun the time and miles to become numb to each. He would be, anyway, with the revelations that had put him on the move occupying his every thought, tumbling end over end in perpetual circles.

What might have begun twinging his unconscious awareness is the fewer and fewer pockets of snow, and warming temperatures bringing with them the smells of spring. In fact, had he been paying closer attention, he would've noticed a great deal more different in the scenery--the trees themselves different, their scent different, the altitude different.

Cresting a short rise, it's the absence of horse hooves clopping on solid ground that consciously gets his notice. He'd only walked a short ways away from Toad and the horses--

He turns and finds nothing. Turns again and ahead of him is a wolf. A stone wolf at the stop of the hill--a statue.

No.

Something isn't right. Stopping alongside it, he feels his mouth loosening and dropping open at the view, a massive building at the center of it.]

▌ II. HOTEL

---

a)

---

[They say he has a room (booked under your name, according to our records), which is hardly possible when there are no hotels, or bookings, or records drawn up on smooth, flat screens with his name emblazoned in black letters. Or politely efficient receptionists who smile directly into his face and twist his stomach into ever tighter knots. Yesterday he was in the hands of the hunters he's feared his entire life, under their protection, to find his mother, a princess, and today he's here. Faced with ghosts from another age. Just another impossibly thing stacked on a spinning pile of impossible things, filling him with the bated, anticipatory dread for when spinning plates crash to the ground.

He doesn't immediately follow the smiling woman's directions to his room, a combination of confusion at what to do with the key he's given and being too struck by the lobby to move on from it. He'll be there, a travel-worn impediment in furs that smell more authentically of horse and the road than anything found in the gift shop, taking in one of the broken clocks on the wall marked Pittsburgh, trailing his fingers over the glass of the bewilderingly stocked vending machine and the spotless window overlooking the pool.

... And finally, when delectable smells override overwhelmed senses, he gingerly passes into the restaurant. Disbelief and wariness still have the better of him; head on a swivel, the boy watches the proceedings like he's never seen the like before. Because, well... he hasn't. He watches how others move in the space before copying them, finally lowering himself down on a bar stool.]

So we can... get food here?

[Restaurants are weird and so is trying to quietly ask someone a question without knowing how to look at them, or if he should, or if it matters. He settles for looking at their seat cover, so clean and untouched by time.]

b) - 7th floor

---

[Finally his wanderings bring him to his floor, if only out of skeptical curiosity at what his room key is meant to provide. He only flinches a little at the elevator squeaking to a stop behind him while he's reading the numbers on the doors.]

c)

---

[Or maybe you find him when this all-encompassing strangeness is too much and the cracks start showing. In the dead hours of the night when he can't stand to be alone in his immaculate, barren room a moment more and opens the door to the corridor, slumping against the wall for a breath and a reminder that behind all these doors are people, too. And that he's not, in the most technical sense, alone. As little as it does to relieve the ache behind his breastbone.

Or maybe when his nocturnal restlessness carries him into the stairwell and down--in need of a walk, or a drink, or something to read from the library--and he finds he's truly not as alone as he thought at this hour, coming across a light on.

Silently, wondering, he approaches the source to peer in. It doesn't occur to him to announce his presence or ask after one. It's easy to forget he can't simply look around occupied spaces and expect to go unobserved anymore.]

▌ III. Summer blót

---

[He's learned his lesson since the first and only festival he'd attended in the mountains, among the tribes. These are not his people, and this is not his family, and they don't protect him against whatever might be waiting to ensnare a lone target out there in the darkness of the night, but even so, he stays where there's safety in numbers, always within earshot. Circling the activity with a begrudging, mounting interest.

He wants to go home (wherever that's supposed to be now, far removed from the mountains and the Alkenny), but home doesn't offer half the sights he's drinking in on a single pass around the outskirts of the festival. He can almost hear his sister's voice pointing out everything they need to march up to and investigate more closely, right now, her in the lead and him at her back... though without her fearlessness to lead his way, he makes his own inroads much more slowly and only after time spent observing.

But as the feast wears on and grows more drunkenly merry in the process, he grows bolder in approaching others. That may have something to do with having taken his first sip of mead from the cup he carries.] What's all this for? Do you know?

▌ IV. Wildcard

---

[You know the drill! Want to hang indoors or catch him outside for a hike? Hit the barbecue? Point and laugh at ghost kids bullying him for not playing in laser tag? Pick your poison.]

Sadie Adler open log - grumpy laser tag recovery, various other places

[the_widow]

Laser Tag

For a nonviolent, no contact sport there had been a number of injuries that had taken players out of the game. While Sadie had tried to offer what cover and aim she could there was a late in the game surprise that took her out.


It was that she wasn't used to being human, it had been well over fifty years since she was mortal and the distraction of breathing, hearing her own heartbeat, and feeling warmth again had her off her game. Having a bad fall into what had become hard terrain hurt, god damned painful. She'd taken gunshots and stab wounds, hell even got blown up once though not too badly and she'd managed to walk away from all that. But that was when all when she wasn't human.

She was out of the game and hissing in pain, she'd tried to limp herself off but her return to human senses had been too intense and she ended up mercifully passing out. When she came to she was safely off the field and in the care of staff. A compound fracture, something that would take a day or two at most to heal after a good feeding normally was now utterly incapacitating.

She lost interest in who won or lost at that point, she was done with the game and more done when the pain medication the staff gave her left her feeling very relaxed and in no pain. She came to later staring up at warm sunlight sky, which gave her mild panic for a moment until the events came back to her. For some period of time, she was mortal again, just her luck that it came with the weaknesses too.

She looked around her sluggish and doped up for other injured folk or other guests at all. "So, what the hell happened?"

Enjoying a vacation of mortality (Following after Laser Tag- Sun, drinking, eating)

She hated losing the resilience of her kind and getting hurt but that also meant she could drink and feel the effects of it, which she chose over more of the medicine that had knocked her out. Drunk she could handle, the other was not as pleasant even if it was less painful.

Her leg had been set in a cast, cumbersome plaster thing that kept it from moving too much and hurting too badly. It just made it damn near impossible to get anywhere on her own, she was lousy on crutches the few times she's ever had to use them. So Sadie picked a spot she could plant herself down in to enjoy what remained of her time in human form.

She had a tray of food she was nibbling at, trying all sorts of things. From apple pie to hot wings, french fries and hamburgers to pizza. And that wasn't even touching on chocolate, she had a whole list of things she wanted to try after she'd sated her need to taste real food. She tried to think back to the last time she ate solid food and had to imagine it was some time in 1915 and food had changed significantly at least in the offerings available.

And then of course there was the alcohol. It packed a hell of a lot more punch when you had organs that were affected by it. Sadie indulged but kept herself in check not to overdo it. She just kept in a low-level buzz of pleasant intoxication, tipsy enough to not mind her leg so much but not too drunk to move her ass if the sun started feeling a bit too warm on her skin.

Anyone passing by her smorgasbord would be welcome to have a seat, talk with her about what the hell she was doing or sample some of the assorted food. If they wanted to join her for a drink they'd find good company and a lot more chat and laughter than the woman normally had to offer.

LOL imagine being susceptible to broken legs

[americanvenom]

"Your team lost, your leg got broke, and you've been knocked out cold for a while." The metallic scrape and click of a zippo's lid could be heard, before a spark and flame, and a cigarette was held out to her.

John took a drag of his own cigarette, closed his lighter, and started juggling it over his knuckles. "Didn't know how they done it, but they took away the fun parts of bein' dead for you. I'm fine, though. Normal. Well no, you're normal."

It was hard to explain or give an accurate assessment. "If you get into trouble again, I'm gonna kick your ass. How's the leg? You in any pain?"