hotelcaelum | Event Log #002

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Event Log #002

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[adds another thread to our pile i'm sorry

He's worn down, too, of this week of shadows going awry. Perhaps he's dealt with his own already, but that doesn't make viewing others having to fight against theirs, or a stranger's, any easier.

Even Astarion, who is more selfish than selfless, has a limit. And when he sees a familiar face being dragged into a bleak void of shadow by the foot, he's almost indignant that they're still going at it, still trying to wrap others up in their influence. Turning this vacation of theirs into more trouble than it's worth... again.]

No, I don't think so- Wake up!

[He says, darting forward to grab Giselle by both shoulders, trying to heft her up. If that means his own arms sink into a depth of shadow in the process, well. He's just feeling too annoyed and stubborn to care right now.]

[ NEVER apologize... 🤝

The sudden contact jolts her out of her temporary light slumber — enough for her to tense and flinch at the contact, a quiet gasp escaping her. Her kneejerk response is to push away, but before she can follow through with a half-hearted shove, her bleary eyes open to reveal just who is trying to pull her out. ]

...Astarion?

[ As she feels another firm tug from the shadow, instinctively, she reaches out to latch on to him in turn, forgetting all propriety in the interest of feeling stable between the two forces tugging on her. That is, until she sees that his own arms have sunk into the mire a bit, in his efforts to save her. One of her hands retracts, hesitating to hold on to him, and her features twist with guilt. ]

Do not hurt yourself for my sake... please...

[It's true, his arms have sunk into the shadow, and the position is dubious at best. He's going to have to rely on little more than his own strength to yank her out, and his strength stat is 8.

But when he notes her hesitance to grip at him in turn, he's having nothing of it.]

Oh, shut up! [He's so nice.] I'm not having any of that now. I've already sunk my arms into this blasted shadow for you, so you might as well do me the favor of holding on, don't you think?

[It's very much like Astarion to frame it as though her reticence is inconveniencing him. Though perhaps that's purposeful.]

Come on, now! Grab hold!

[ BEING TOLD TO SHUT UP... what a novelty. Her eyes widen at first, not from being insulted, but honestly just shocked to be spoken to in such an undeniably flippant way, after such a long time. Not something she is used to anymore at all. When she sets her lips into a thin line again, it's done stubbornly, wrestling composure back over herself like an armor. Her intentions had been good, truly, and now she's gone and irritated him further!! ]

It is... not that I am ungrateful...

[ She tries to offer, latching back on to him obediently with a cold, unyielding grip — much harder than her hesitance would have implied. Both their low strength stats are fighting for their lives in this moment, but it's fine. With some effort from clinging on to him, they manage to lift out an inch or two. ]

[I'M SORRY HE'S SO MEAN... But he doesn't think this is time to be self-sacrificing, and such cutting words might work to snap her out of it. It seems to have worked, earning him a tight grip on his arms.]

In that case, then hold on tight and prove it!

[Boy howdy, he rolled a 16!! Which means that, despite his laughable strength, he gives it his all, putting his back and legs into it, and pulls her up, inch by inch, out of her shadow.

It's slow progress, but that it's progress at all is impressive for these two.]

[ HE'S SO VALID OKAY... anyways, she does as she's told without another peep, clinging on despite the intense shame she is feeling as each second passes by. Such a disgraceful display...

After an extra few moments of struggle, she's able to catch one knee against the edge of the mire, where it meets the carpeted floor of the hotel. With that as a vantage point, she's able to help him a bit more, rather than cling on helplessly for his aid.

Anything to feel like less dead weight. The personal cringe of the situation is bad enough, but she has to lean on him more fully to keep balance as they enter the homestretch — prompting her to keep her eyes shut tight out of some semblance of propriety. Or embarrassment? Maybe some weird mixture of both.

It's not neat or refined, but in the end, they get the job done. Actually, it's nearly a remix of how they first met, in an awkward tangle of limbs — only this time, she really feels at fault. Once her shadow recedes to where it belongs: ]

...Thank you. For your generosity...

[ It's all she can think to say — and all she thinks she's really allowed to say, anyway, after burdening him this way. ]

[It's easier once she can grasp the flooring of the hotel, though effort is still required to unearth her fully and properly -- and once that's said and done, he expects her fully to lean on him, even if Astarion might usually shy away from such contact.

After all, when he was "freed" from his own devouring shadow, he had been much the same. Disoriented, wobbly on his feet. And yes, keenly... self-aware of his own failing to save himself. No doubt she feels that same shame.

Still, it's difficult. He's not a kind man, he's not a delicate one. He's all sharp edges and rejoinders when met with uncertainty, and though his concern is not for show--else he'd not have helped her at all--he doesn't know what else to do or say, other than to gutter out an exhale and mutter:]

Generous? Hardly. I'm simply trying to keep this hotel from spiraling out of control. [As though he has any control over that.] Come now, can you stand on your own?

[ She takes his words mostly at face value, attributing his exhale to exasperation — completely valid exasperation, at that. By the sounds of it, he must be going around the hotel helping others in similar situations... noble, for someone who is not a saint. Anyone would begin to feel tired of it eventually. ]

Allow me one moment, if you would.

[ Bit by bit, she lessens the weight of her pressure on him, gaining her bearings, even if it's done somewhat clumsily. For a brief moment, she doesn't seem like the elegant, stoic maid — she seems just a troubled girl with a lack of balance. But as soon as she's standing properly, her hands retract from him, resisting the urge to straighten the clothes she'd rumpled in favor of freeing him from her cold touch as quickly as possible. ]

I am deeply sorry. [ Her hands return to their proper place, folded neatly in front of her. Her head bows, chin sticking close to her chest. There's more sincerity to her words than normal, a slight closing of the usual distance. ] I fear I have been naught else but a burden to you since we crossed paths. All I wanted was to close my eyes and rest...

[ Not that that's a good excuse, but... she supposes she should try to explain herself. ]

[He'll give her that moment, of course. And he'll also fail his perception check, unable to notice that passing measure of failed countenance, where she's less the stoic maid and more just a girl trying to regain her balance off the heels of nearly being devoured by shadow.

But even so, he can sense the sincerity present in her apology, more prevalent than the usual arms-length politeness she wields so easily. Astarion set his jaw. He wishes to tell her to stop apologizing, that this was hardly her fault at all, but for once in his centuries-old life, he doesn't necessarily wish to-

To what? To make it worse?

Gods, he doesn't know. He still feels so ill-equipped for moments like these, offering assurances and comfort. He doesn't know how.]

Well. Who can blame you for that? Resting, to let everything else wash away-- No worries, no remembrances of the past. Believe me, darling, I felt much the same when my shadow tried to gobble me up.

[He sighs. A bit more somberly-]

It's fine. Really. If you were a burden, then I'd have let you sink into the dark and wished you good luck on the other side.

[ Her eyes flick away, tension leaving her shoulders the more he goes on. Stubbornly as she tries to keep herself from feeling anything in the moment — to go completely numb to keep from having to worry about being a nuisance or a need to maintain good relations with him — the honesty of that statement tugs at something in her. It surely would be better if she just kept her distance from everyone here by never letting herself be anything but the perfect maid — perhaps to him especially, given her fixations.

But that small comfort and reassurance he'd offered her... selfishly, she can't help but want to covet it. To cling on to it, to feel something for it, instead of casting it away into the void immediately. She was worthy enough to expend effort for, even by an acquaintance. It means a lot more than he may know. ]

Then I appreciate your efforts all the more, my dear.... truly.

[ Her words lack the usual refined cadence, replaced by something slower and more sincere, as though weighing each word. At the very least, her expression does ease in the face of his words, successfully soothed. After a pause, she decides to admit something else: ]

...It was such a human feeling, that drowsiness. I had forgotten what it felt like. [ And now, after having a taste of it, she feels the absence of tiredness all the more concretely than she had prior to this day. ] Perhaps you too have something like that... something that if felt once more, would bring forth a flood of memories.

[He crosses his arms, tilting his head. Her sincerity is not lost on him, and though Astarion holds it strangely in his mind—like a fumbling child, grasping onto something too complex for him—he can appreciate having earned it. It feels like a foreign privilege from her.

Even if "earned" comes on the heels of something, ah, none-too-pleasant.]

Ha, would it surprise you to learn that an elf does not require sleep? Exhaustion itself is no stranger, of course, but the pull of actual slumber is an alien concept. Until this place.

[Where he's experienced it twice before now.]

So, not sleep precisely, but... The willingness to resign myself to my fate, I think.

[A feeling all too familiar to him, a constant companion over the long years of centuries, where he had felt hopelessly chained to his fate in his darkest hours.

But Astarion shrugs a shoulder.]

Shall we... find someplace else to linger? Perhaps we both need a sit-down after what we've experienced for now.

[ Her knowledge about elves is still miniscule — only what Sumina has told her, and any of the myths and legends she remembers from her time. So, to learn that they do not sleep is a surprise. More of a surprise than what he follows it with. No, that's not terribly surprising at all.... she thinks anyone with an eternal life begins to feel that way eventually. Wanting to resign yourself, indeed... her gaze softens with understanding and recognition.

But then, her brow knits, perhaps most surprised of all at the offer to relocate. She was grateful enough that he'd gone out of his way — she'd never have expected anything else. ]

If you are amenable... yes, of course. It would be my pleasure to accompany you.

[ It'd be rude to refuse... and she wants to go, anyway. With her posture and cadence returned to proper form, she takes a step forward so that they may walk side by side, ]

Provided you are certain there was no ill effect from coming in to contact with the specter. [ She does try to look at his arm to see if there's any obvious sign of something strange going on, though upon inspection, she doesn't find anything. ] You are feeling normal?

[She'll not find any signs of damage on his person unless one counts his tiredness, encircled mostly around his eyes, the real consequence. With another beat of consideration, he nods, and they begin walking. To... anywhere, somewhere. Just away, to put some distance between the experience of being sucked in by one's shadow.]

I feel tired. But I've been running about trying to make certain those from my world haven't been- Ah. Pulled in.

[Because it's not like he cares or anything, but... Well. Maybe he cares a little bit, but he'd rather not linger on that idea for now.]

That said, if there are further consequences, we get to experience them together! [Said with a very faux delight.] Isn't that exciting?

[ Yes, somewhere far away... and somewhere quiet, preferably. She doesn't walk with a destination in mind, either, but as they pass more populated halls or cafes or rooms, she doesn't seem to give any of them an ounce of consideration. ]

Oh, my.... let us not speak it into existence, my dear.

[ PLEASE... she doesn't think she can handle any more humiliation. She meets his faux cheer with faux scolding, her brows raising. Truthfully, the idea that still more could be coming gives her so much unease. The master of this hotel becomes more and more concerning, the longer she's stayed here, and she wonders if he feels the same. But it's a dark topic for another day. ]

Especially with companions of yours about the hotel as well. You did not travel alone here?

[ There's faint surprise there, having assumed he might be something of a lone wolf. ]

[Don't worry, Giselle. He absolutely feels the same way about their illustrious host and this rather generous hotel. More and more, there's reason to be concerned rather than relaxed, but in that same vein... Maybe they should have expected as much. Astarion, cynic that he is, can't say he's really surprised.

Even if it's annoying. Frustrating. (Concerning.)]

I did not. Gale and Karlach both are guests in this hotel, traveling companions of mine. [She's right about him, though; he's not a "traveling with a party" kind of vampire, but when tadpole-in-the-brain needs must...] Does that surprise you ?

[ Her head tilts, the hint of a smile returning to her lips — muted from the lingering distress, but still there. ]

It does, [ She says, without hesitation. ] But it is a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

[ And here she thought he was just wandering around by himself, without a connection in the world after breaking free from his chains. It's a relief to know that's not the case. ]

Coincidentally, mine and Gale's paths have already crossed. He seems a fine, mannerly gentleman.

[ weirdly knowledgeable about bones and ghosts, but otherwise nice!! ]

[Free from his chains, yes, and only because his other companions truly gave him the strength to do so. Best not to mention the fact that there's a non-zero chance that he could still very much die should he return to his world, that there is unfinished business that could affect the entirety of the Sword Coast. In that, he is not quite free.

But one thing at a time.

Gale. The wizard. Who is, indeed, fine and mannerly.]

He's a friendly sort, I suppose. [I GUESS] But rather talkative, and too inquisitive for his own good. Being a wizard, though, I don't think you can expect too much else from him, really.

[rip gale]

[ rip gale indeed.... ]

Now, now, I expect good company from him. [ she will spare a microorganism of effort to stand up for him since he's not here to defend himself, though the words come off more like she's going through the motions instead of like she really has any stake in them. ] But he did mention being learned regarding spirits and other such things... I suppose it is not so surprising he is knowledgeable in magic, then.

[ Because magic is heavily associated with curses and the malevolent, at least in her mind, due to her close ties with witches. Anyways, their walk is leading them to some strange room that opens up into a park — scenic, and with many places to sit. There's a tilt of her head, asking to see if he would prefer to go that way. ]

Say, does he know? About you.

[ A rather vague question, but as ever, she allows him the freedom to answer to the extent he wishes to. ]

[Oh, this is not quite what he expected from the cornfield itself, opening up to a scenic little park. Are they at the center of the maze, he wonders?

He gives a shrug and saunters in a step or two into that scenic little space, which should be answer enough as to whether or not he wishes to venture that way.]

About my vampirism? Oh yes. He knows. I tried to keep it rather hush-hush when we first met, but... given the situation at hand, I needed what strength I could get. I thought nibbling on a neck at night would be worth the risk, but I was wrong.

I was caught red-handed, so to speak.

[ With him in tow, she'll lead them into the strange space — one of many inexplicable outdoors-but-indoors spaces within the hotel. All she wants is a space unlikely to have more shadow hullaballoo going on... and there doesn't seem to be many people milling about in here. So long as the two of them are free, then it should be safe. ]

My, that must have been quite the scandal.

[ There's no real sense of scandalization or surprise in her voice or features, however — the real surprising thing is that he and Gale are still on... good(?) terms. How stressful, for something as simple as hunger to pose such a risk... inwardly, she wonders if she should be thankful she has no such overtly obvious 'tells' that could reveal her nature — not ones that take less than 5 to 10 years to notice, anyway. ]

A dangerous one, at that. You had mentioned there could be grave consequences, in your nature being revealed.

There could be. And there might have been if circumstances were normal.

[Hm, is there a place to sit? Gods, he hopes so, casting around to find a little bench near a neat little array of shrubbery and plops down into a sit. His feet hurt!]

But everyone had more pressing concerns than a single vampire in their midst. Gale and I... and a few others, of course, well. We're on quite the little adventure, you know.

[The word "adventure" sure is tinged with something wry.]

[ She'll sit politely next to him, pale hands smoothing down her apron as she goes. ]

Oh? Is that so?

[ An 'adventure,' huh? She brightens a bit at the word, her reflexive, usual smile easing back on to her face. The slightest note of eagerness bleeds into her voice, beneath her cool timbre. ]

I do regret to ask more of you, after all you have graciously done for me... but might you tell me a bit about this 'adventure?' [ A beat, as she resumes the proper folding of her hands. ] If you are amenable, of course.

[ Hearing about his life out in the wider world is something like getting to live vicariously through him, if for but a short moment. It'd just be nice to hear about what his life is like now after everything, she thinks, even if he sounded rather wry while bringing it up. ]

[Perhaps her bright eagerness is so unusual to see that it stands out more than it should. He was going to say that it's a long and complicated tale, best saved for another time... But Astarion reconsiders this notion, for just a second.

He still isn't sure he has the energy to regurgitate the whole long, bloody, and terrible thing, but he can offer tidbits of tantalizing information. It seems as though she might enjoy that.

So. He sighs and straightens down the front of his... pumpkin costume.]

I suppose I can tell you the broader strokes. But even then, I struggle to think of where to start. [How about the beginning, sir.] First, let me ask you this: do you have any sort of... ah, abberations in your world?

Aberrations... the supernatural, you mean?

[ The corner of her lip quirks up, the smile almost sly. ]

The only "aberrations" are within the four walls of the house. To my knowledge. There is the witch, of course... and the house itself. It is not normal by any means.

[ Though she doesn't elaborate right at this moment what makes it so abnormal. On the other hand, there were legends of witches, but as far as she knows, only the mansion houses such a being in earnest. All other myths regarding monsters and witches and the like have never had solid proof, or were simply rumors twisted into legend to scare children or serve as cautionary tales. ]

I suppose I might be an "aberration" myself, as well. Hehe...

Not so much "supernatural" as... something that defies the world's natural order. Strange, alien creatures, their mindsets often impossible to understand. And always dangerous to some degree.

[He gives her a sidelong glance, assessing her reaction. Does she still apply "aberration" to herself after that clarification? Perhaps in all technicality, yes, but he cannot quite place her on the level of Illithid after their conversations thus far.]

Think of awful, awful things. In this case, I'm talking about a creature called a mind flayer. Capable of great psionic power, with wet, rubbery flesh, elongated head, and a flourish of-

[He raises his hand, puts it close to his mouth, and wiggles his fingers. Tentacles.]

-writhing tentacles for a mouth.

Event Log #002

phase iii

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