EVENT LOG
number 002
The hotel humbly hopes that you're settling in well and are taking advantage of the various pleasures on offer for your stay. In Mr Bennet's opinion, things have been going quite well and he doesn't think that the guests are unhappy at all. New guests have arrived, some have left, it's all going along perfectly. So, of course, this is when the next troublesome thing pops up.
SHADOWS
One morning, characters will find the hotel to be a little dimmer than usual, a little more shadowy. Yet if anyone asks Mr Bennet about it, he will claim to not have noticed anything different than usual. Either way, as the characters move on with their day, they'll start to notice a few odd things start to happen. PHASE ONE: Initially, characters will notice their shadow beginning to move a little out of sync with them. Discreetly at first until eventually, their shadow takes on a life of its own, mischievously playing with characters and enjoying their newfound freedom. Very Peter Pan, and completely harmless.
PHASE TWO: Now, shadows might disappear entirely, roaming the hotel to their own discretion and ignoring the characters they belong to. As the shadow takes on this free will, characters will begin to feel slightly off balance and have a hard time feeling whole without their shadow around. The shadow may become slightly aggressive as well if told they should return to their characters, fighting back in their own way from knocking things over to outright attacking other characters. It's a little hard to fight back though when your opponent is a shadow, isn't it?
PHASE THREE: The shadows have become fully aggressive now, fighting anyone who tries to get them to return to their original person. Characters will find themselves feeling weak and low energy as a result of losing their shadow. Eventually, the shadows will come back to their owners but the characters will find themselves sinking into their shadow, eventually changing places entirely with their shadow. The only way to rescue a character from this fate is for another character to pull them out of their shadow forcibly. The bright side is once a character is pulled out of their shadow, it all returns to normal and their shadow is no longer sentient. These phases will last over the course of the week and it is quite alright to stay in phase one/two/three. Not all shadows will become aggressive, not all shadows will be playful. Feel free to manipulate your character's shadow in the way that's most fun for you.
NAV | PREMISE | RULES | FAQ | TAKEN
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png) hotelcaelum | caelumserver | caelumooc |
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caelumstaff) wrote in 
bro doesnt know how smh... least bucci has the right idea
Mm, so I've been told.
[ Said completely deadpan, despite being an attempt at humour. If Moody Blues could nod, they probably would in spite of the joke being made at their expense, but they're too busy hooking their arm under Bucciarati's again, manoeuvring so that they can help him stand. They pause when Bucciarati coughs, and Abbacchio tenses, too. Immediately, he's concerned all over again, coughing up water isn't a good thing, he's also not entirely sure what the best thing would be to do other than let it pass.
Abbacchio has the sense that he's missed something again, and he's sure there'll be more to discuss, but it'll have to wait a bit longer. The most pressing matter is getting out of this damn water; and once Bucciarati is on his feet — with or without Moody's help — or at least upright enough that Abbacchio can extricate himself from where he's stuck, he'll do exactly that. In a completely normal manner.
Clearing his throat, he moves to Bucciarati's side. He wants to do exactly what Moody Blues was doing, to support his weight, but he doesn't want to come across as overbearing or imply that he thinks Bucciarati incapable. Not when he believes the opposite. ]
We should get somewhere with less water, [ he glances around for the way out. ] What floor is your room on?
no subject
In the back of his mind, he knows this means a heavy conversation is about to be upon them, but he's too tired to strain under its weight just yet. Mostly, he just feels relieved that they managed to find one another again. The impossibility of it all is dulled slightly by his weariness, and by the fact that they had met just once before, but it still leaves him in wonder. Sometimes, God is merciful. ]
Five. The beach. [ he's on his feet, a little shaky but upright, and he gestures vaguely with his chin. ] That way... That's how I came in.
no subject
Bucciarati leans against him, and muscle memory takes over, wordlessly he manoeuvres Bucciarati's arm around his shoulders to properly support his weight. The water hasn't helped, but between himself and Moody Blues, it's an easy enough task, and one that Abbacchio dutifully takes upon himself. With little fanfare he begins heading in the direction Bucciarati indicated, water still sloshes around their feet and makes things more difficult, but there's consolation in the knowledge that it won't be long before they make it out towards the elevators.
He's silent, for the most part, lost in thought as he often is, and not wanting to press any of the bigger issues that lie just beneath the surface. There is one thing he thinks is manageable, that shouldn't be an emotional weight to drop onto either of their shoulders. ]
… do you know how long it's been since we last spoke?
[ Weeks, maybe months? He hopes it hasn't been longer, though it wasn't in his control, it would still feel like a personal failure. He knows that Bucciarati is perfectly capable without him, that his own reliance on him isn't mutual, but it would be hard not to see it as though he'd let him down. ]
no subject
As "alive" as he possibly can be.
When Abbacchio finally speaks, it takes him a moment to respond. ]
A month. More or less.
[ vaguely, he wonders if they spent this entire time circling around each other in this infinite maze of a building. It's not impossible. Nor is the idea that Abbacchio might have been trapped somewhere just like him. ]
What happened to you? After we got separated.
[ part of him wants to apologize for that, too, but he logically knows that it wasn't anyone's fault but the ninjas', and he has enough real things to apologize to Abbacchio for - there's no need to dilute it with a meaningless nicety. ]
no subject
When he answers, he glances at him sidelong, then sort of frowns. A month isn't that long, but it feels significant enough. A month is enough time to question whether someone was even there at all, or if they'd be back. He wouldn't like to presume anything about Bucciarati or what he did in that time, but he thinks he knows him well enough to know that he cares about his team, and must have been at least somewhat curious about Abbacchio's sudden disappearance.
As he chews over Bucciarati's own question, his brows sink into that typical furrow that often appears as he mulls something over. ]
All I really remember was that hideous carpet, and you were saying we should leave. After that… Nothing? Not even darkness… not even sure if I was conscious.
[ The guests can leave the hotel, or so he's been made aware of, but what exactly does that mean for someone who is dead. Is that the reason behind the lack of… well, anything. Abbacchio doesn't have the answer, he's sure Bucciarati probably won't, either. Maybe that's a conversation for later. ]
Then I was back here, and it was as though no time had passed at all.
no subject
[ in a way, it's a relief. Knowing that he and Abbacchio had somehow been missing one another the entire time would have been infinitely frustrating. The idea that the hotel could simply swallow you up into oblivion is disturbing on its own, of course, but perhaps less so, given that it was where both of them had been before coming here. The important thing is that he came back. Somehow. ]
Then it's no wonder I couldn't track you down.
[ he was out of space, somewhere. Maybe he "went back" to wherever their souls are supposed to be and then get sucked back here. Bucciarati can't help being slightly grateful he was. He'd already resolved to accept Abbacchio's loss, but he's only human; it was hard not to hope he'd come back again after that glimpse of him...
Hell. He's exhausted, he's wet, and he's cold. Once they're close enough to the elevator, he presses the button to call it himself, as if to spite his body. There's so much he needs to think about and talk about, but, just like before, his flesh is going to give out before he can do much of anything. At least this time, it won't be permanent - he hopes. ]
no subject
Still supporting Bucciarati if he needs it, he steps into the elevator once it arrives (admittedly wary of the thing, but he hasn't had problems so far.) Jabbing the button that reads 5 with his thumb, he turns his attentions back to Bucciarati, pensive, though silent as the elevator rumbles to life and begins its descent. When he does eventually speak up, it is with a sincere earnestness. ]
I don't know why we're here… or how it is that I'm here again, but what I do know is that I don't want to waste the opportunity.
[ So much of his life was opportunities, thrown away, whether by fear or uncertainty, inaction or the wrong actions. Even his life itself, cut so short, seems like a waste to him now. He doesn't expect Bucciarati to respond, but he wants him to know where he stands all the same. If the invitation to this place was to be believed, then he wants to see it through. ]
no subject
Souls have to go somewhere, [ he murmurs, and he'd like to say more - how it's not heaven or hell, and maybe they're in limbo, or maybe there never was a heaven or hell to begin with, but he doesn't have the energy to articulate it, and what's more, it's rubbing up against the crux of the matter: that they're both dead. He wants to talk about it. He needs to talk about it, even if it's going to be painful - about everything, with Abbacchio - but he doesn't want to do it like this. Bucciarati works himself to the bone on the regular; maybe that's why he knows he's at his limit now. ]
Abbacchio. We need to talk. [ though he's still slumped over, leaning heavy against Abbacchio, he lifts his eyes to meet his. He won't mumble this to the floor, tired as he is. ] But I need to rest first. Will you wait for me?
[ there's a lot to tell him. Perhaps part of him just wants the confirmation that Abbacchio's not going to vanish again, but, mostly, he just wants Abbacchio to know he doesn't intend to hide anything. Not now. ]