Happy New Year, folks! The Hotel is settling into the New Year with little fanfare. Mr Bennet remains at his post behind the hotel desk and helps check guests in and out daily. The Hotel continues to hustle and bustle and nothing seems to be going too awry beyond the usual shenanigans. In fact, one might even call this the slow season for the Hotel.
THE FLOOR IS LAVA
That is until the second week of the month where the intercoms start with Mr Bennet's pleasant voice coming through.
"Hello, hello! This is just a small warning that one of our floors, the current 79th floor to be exact, has had a small... malfunction, I suppose, and will be affecting the other floors of the Hotel. No word yet from maintenance when this will be over, so stay on your toes, my dear guests!"
And that's it. No indication of what the problem is, or anything like that. It's up to you to figure out what's going on! And what is going on? Well, it'll become obvious very quickly when wherever characters happen to be in the Hotel, they'll soon start feeling a very obvious warmth on the floor below them. It'll increase the longer they stay standing in one spot until it's almost burning their feet.
The only salve for this will be hopping onto a nearby piece of furniture and getting their feet off the floor. It'll soon become obvious that the entire Hotel has been wrapped in a game of The Floor is Lava, including the floor turning into actual lava on some of the floors.
SAFETY SLEEPOVER
Of course, the Hotel is not cruel enough to make the entire Hotel unsafe and soon enough Mr Bennet's voice will come through on the intercom again.
"For those looking for respite from our current Hotel wide game," because clearly it's a game now. "We'll be serving tea and cake in the lounge on the ground floor. Maintenance has been able to fix the lounge for now so feel free to come by when you can if you'd like to rest. We have sleeping bags!"
As folks enter the lounge, they'll find that Mr Bennet is true to his word. The lounge has been converted into a giant sleepover, with sleeping bags lining the floor and a long table off to the side where people can eat their tea and cakes. Mr Bennet is near the food table, handing out pajamas, toothbrushes, and sleep masks to those who request them. There's some new doors off to the side leading to some restrooms, at least, so guests can change in private.
Though, one thing to point out is when Mr Bennet says there's tea and cakes, the cakes happen to be lava cakes. He thinks he's funny.
THE FLOOR IS ICE
It'll take about two days for hotel maintenance to fix the Hotel and return it to normal. So that's two days of living out of the lounge or hopping around the Hotel to get places. What a headache. Mr Bennet will make another lively announcement on the intercom.
"We are back in business, folks! I've just been given word that everything should have return to normal now. Though, there is a warning to make sure not to walk around barefoot for at least another day or so while the Hotel settles. Thank you for your patience!"
What that means becomes obvious soon as anyone walking around now will feel that the floor is especially cold. That's a bit better than the heat, at least, but still kind of a pain in the ass. Anyone who tries to walk around barefoot will find that their feet quickly start to freeze but any permanent damage is easily avoidable by putting on some socks or getting off the floor entirely.
Though that said, the ice does lead to some furniture sliding around and even with shoes on, characters might find themselves sliding too.
What a lovely end to the holidays.
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hotelcaelum2024-01-12 09:44 am
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Oh, fizzy drinks? [ A slight pause, he looks away. Then he looks back, leaning in closer to Evan and lowering his voice conspiratorially. ] You infuse them with... coke?
[ One of his brows quirks up high with all scandalous intent of that word. More strangely the lit of his voice suggests a keen interest despite that. ]
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Some people swear that cocaine was used in some way in early iterations of the recipe, but I'm pretty sure most of it is apocryphal. If nothing else, there might have been some early precursor of cocaine somewhere in there, but it's hard to say for sure.
I think nowadays, it's mostly a lot of high-fructose corn syrup, carbonated water, and food coloring.
Reeeaaally tasty, though.
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Drugs, he understands. Carbonated water, he understands. Corn, he also understands with a caveat; ]
Is corn so widely available that it would be practical to use like that where you're from? Processed into a syrup?
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So it's way cheaper to use high-fructose corn syrup than it is to process sugar cane.
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That... that's barmy. How do you produce so much?
We've come a long way in utilizing radiant energy to grow light-dependent crops within quality soils but it's, well, a luxury only a few can afford.
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[ A small pause, as he's sipping his tea, then, a little awkwardly, ]
Sorry. I didn't mean to derail the conversation so quickly...
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[ He smiles, sits up straighter and scoots forward a little closer. ]
...Though our largest export would be energy itself, harvested and processed from Leviathan meat. Ours is a port city, dear Doskvol, upon which there is very limited room to support large scale crop growth. Without imports I would see no other pragmatic nor practical way to produce an extremum of food other than to eventually automate the process somehow... considering the environment is already in a state of fairly horrible.
[ Given his way he'd probably want to automate everything. ]
no subject
Energy from... Leviathans? Like, the mythical deadly sea creatures? Or do Leviathans refer to something else where you're from?
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Leviathans are massive beasts that oft patrol our seas and dwarf even the most titanic ships that hunt them. Their harvested viscera is processed into precious electroplasm what which powers our city and nearly all technology in it.
I suppose it's unkind to call them mindless beasts... they were once gods that fell to corruption after the Cataclysm.
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Then he has a moment to think about how he's possessed by, like, six or more eldritch beings and is currently attending a school for young wizards, and reconsiders whether or not he's in a position to judge. ]
Were there a lot of them, then? Fallen gods, I mean. Or Leviathans, although I suppose it would end up being the same answer, either way.
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Ten or so big ones. [ His fingers drum around the edge of his tea cup and lift as he names a few off. ]
Thulmadar, Crowned in Iron. Ilganea, The Baleful Orphan. Irgon, The Endless Descent, also known as Kellos, god of seas and water and storms, etcetera. All modern cults get a bit fanatical and misguided about them and refer to them by their own names like The Deep One, and such. [ He laughs softly, ] You know how cults are. [ ...which threatens to become awkward as he reconsiders mid-chortle perhaps not everyone knows how cults are. His delightful nameless tea companion seems well educated enough, however! Maybe he does have Iowanian cults and gods? Maybe a not so fallen Corn God to explain such prolific harvests? ]
Where are my manners [ He extends a hand. ] —Brickston Bartholomew Penderyn, by the way.
no subject
At the mention of cults, though Evan's expression dims – just a little. And just because he was briefly a part of a doomsday cult masquerading as a fundamentalist militia. And also because he's reasonably sure there are a few wizarding cults that have been awaiting his rise to prominence, or whatever the hell.
But, okay, right! Basic manners!
He takes the proffered hand in a slightly awkward handshake. ]
My bad, sorry. I'm Evan Kelmp. It's nice to meet you.
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The question is met with only the tiniest bit of incredulity: ]
Does Iowa have any fallen gods that we harvest for resources?
[ A pause, as he thinks this over. Then, ]
I guess, if you wanna be really technical about it, we do harvest the remains of dead plant matter and dinosaurs. We call it "fossil fuels."
no subject
Is it very troublesome extracting resources from such ancient history? Wouldn't it destroy them? [ Destroy literal history? ]