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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 α¨ 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? β |
Εs byþ ordfruma Η£lcre sprΗ£ce, wΔ«sdΕmes wraþu and wΔ«tena frΕfur, and eorla gehwΔm Δadnys and tΕ hiht
(click to expand)
I. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES (ARRIVALS)
double, double, toil and trouble β«βͺ
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: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!
- 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
II. HOO-HOO! BIG SUMMER BLOWOUT! (BONFIRE)
hygge means sitting by the fire with your cheeks all rosy β«βͺ
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 β«βͺ
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: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.
- 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
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 β«βͺ
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...
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Once he had the incredibly heavy bag secured over one shoulder, John nodded in definitive, oddly serious manner, and waved for the other man to follow as he led the way. He made his way to the door, shouldering it open. "Probably protectiveness, yeah." Or heroics. He had no idea if that was the case, either, but the vast majority of the folks he'd met in this place seemed to be on the same level of having done some wild things. Present company included.
"My curse, though... I'm undead." That was a good enough explanation, right? No, not by John's standards. "I got in over my head in 1907, when I was tryin' to stop a string'a murders. Woke up dead, got some new abilities for my troubles. I'd say parts of it're definitely a curse. Some, I ain't so troubled by." He was doing a great job tiptoeing around the kind of undead he was, more to avoid saying the word, because it really, really sounded too dramatic for his tastes. It brought to mind Bram Stoker, Nosferatu, tales of corpses bloated and ruddy being exhumed and staked and buried upside down instead. The whole thing was too theatrical, and John was a simple guy. He didn't need that kind of association tacked onto him.
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John's not quite sure if it'll be easy to do. Especially with how the place is determined to make sure that he sits around and drinks about it. But it's hardly impossible. He's tenacious, he thinks that Marston is a damn good ally to have in this endeavor, and they have at least the other Constantine to fall back on. Maybe that Thor too, and that Jesse bird. So they're not entirely without options. And he grabs his loot, with considerable more struggle than his companion, he's not meant for physical strength after all.
He'll just awkwardly follow Marston out from here.
"Undead, hmm?" John would have left it. There are so many types of undead, so many cursed based ones too. A handful come to mind, few allow such luxuries as this man seems to be able to enjoy but then again depending on the item given that could negate a good deal. But as he speaks again, John is starting to form ideas and sound ones. But he's also delightfully pleased at meeting someone of this sort, if his ideas are correct anyway, that's actually pleasant. And he goes a bit quiet as he listens, thinking probably too hard as far as what to say. His voice stays low, and he thinks he's got it after a moment or two. He won't be offensive, he won't be too blunt, he won't be an asshole this time.
"So. As far as the legions of the sucking undead go, you're a nice enough bloke. Most of them are festering shitbags. Meeting you makes up for the king, he was an absolute bloody tosser." There, that's perfectly fine. And he didn't even say the V word.
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"What floor's yours?" He sure as hell didn't want to go to his own room, that was all the way up there. Most of the way up. Thinking about it made him weary. "We'll water down the mead in us. Brainstorm."
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Marston's words bring a smirk to John's face. The man is amusing. And while they're a disastrous combination drunk, it's quite likely they'll get on just fine when they're sober too. "You look damn good for your age. Too bad the bars don't give out senior discounts. Not that anyone would believe you."
John follows close behind his companion, trusting him to keep him on the right track. Not that it makes sense at all for him to, but that mead has warmed John's heart and he's had a good enough time that what should be a wary alliance feels more like warm friendship. And he's starting to mentally plot as they go upstairs, sleepy from the booze but still cranking away at where they should go next and what they'll find when they're able to do more mentally.
It all blurs and fades when he's asked about the floor he's on. "Fifth, mate. Think we can actually get there without relying on the sodding elevator?" His legs are pretty wobbly at this point, and he feels comfortably numb. But at the same time, they made it up this far. They're not without hope.
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"Better your room than mine; mine's on the seventh." He rubbed his jaw, scratching through the stubble and against the scars as he eyed up the stairs like they were a particularly hard cliff to climb. Sure, he could climb almost sheer cliff faces with no issue, but these stairs, in his state of inebriation...
"Yeah... Yeah I think we're stickin' here for a bit. I ain't trustin' that death box to get me anywhere."
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"It's not even my room! I haven't been in my own room since arrival, but Ronnie's a good sort. You'll like him. If he's even in, anyway. Might still be at the party." John is suddenly determined. And he moves forward towards the stairs and takes a step, and then another. The third step up is too much and he nearly topples.
Nope, nope nope nope not going to do that. He sits down. And scoots back down the stairs to the floor. And then casually flops next to Marston again. "We can sit here for a few minutes, then I'll fight the elevator in a grand battle to get us upstairs in style. Or something like that..." His voice trails off a bit. And he's slumping a little more now, clutching his bag of raided junk food loot like something precious.