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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That he doesn't is a relief. Her smile remains serene and calm, at his question; she also lacks any signs of physical exertion or being affected by the heat, given the lack of sweat or flush to her skin. ]
If you are amenable... and able. You need not concern yourself with me. [ Said like this is obvious, and like it truly wouldn't bother her if she were to be left here. ] Perhaps I could simply follow you, once you are feeling more refreshed?
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Still, for now he will lean against her and soak up her coolness. He's not sure why she's so cold and why she seems completely unaffected by the heat but he's... grateful? Mostly because he feels like he might pass out. ]
I would be concerned regardless, if I were to leave you here. [ Just, bluntly stating it as fact. He would be worried. ] But you following me seems like a reasonable plan. How is it that you're so... cold, if I may?
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My, did it startle you? Hehe... [ She laughs, her grin going wide yet stiff. ] I have heard my touch reminds others of Death himself. But I assure you that I am just a simple maid, my dear.
[ Which is not an answer, and she is unabashed about blatantly avoiding the question. In some ways, it's an answer in itself: the insistence that she's a mere maid, and that the coldness has nothing to do with her being anything more than that, is easy enough to take as mysterious. ]
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For the hotel or for one of the guests?
[ He imagines it'd be a little weird to ask who is your master but that's essentially what he just asked. She avoided the question, which he notices, but he's not one to press if it's not a life or death situation so, you know,
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No, but she does look very taken off guard by the intimate nature of the hold, having not been expecting it. Evident, perhaps, in the way her hand hesitates to grasp back at first, cold fingers remaining splayed apart for a few moments before finally closing around his. Her eyes widen a bit, lips tightening, and up until this point, it's the only crack that's appeared in her aloof facade. ]
...That is, I am a servant to a very peculiar mansion. And I have been, for so, so very long...
[ She gets out, after a moment of collecting herself. So, yes, she is a maid to neither the hotel or the guests, but to someone (something?) in her home realm. A role which she has carried for so long, that perhaps she can no longer put it down. ]
A house which grants the desires of others — perhaps not unlike the very hotel we are in.
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But then she holds his hand back and so here they are. Sat on top of a dresser, holding hands.
He listens to her explain her role and considers it. It seems more of who she is as a person now than her actual job. That seems like a shame. He wonders who she is beyond the role. ]
I see. But that must be... tiresome, in a way. To watch those go through the mansion having their desires granted and only living to serve them. Unless I am mistaken in what your role is?
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You are not mistaken. I serve those who become masters of the house. However, at the same time... I am waiting for someone in particular to return to that mansion. Forever waiting.
[ There's a wistfulness behind her smile, and something... a little sad, too, like her hope for their return wears thin. ]
I suppose I would not call it "tiresome." But the wait is much more pleasant here, yes, hehe. [ A quiet chuckle under her breath, before she returns her gaze to him. ] Might I ask what your profession is, in turn?
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I'm glad you're enjoying yourself here, even as you continue to wait. You have my sympathy.
[ And as the question comes, he looks a dash surprised but then considers it. He supposes it might be best to know what she knows, if Gojo has told her what jujutsu sorcerers are there would be no point in hiding it. But if he hasn't, then that would be unfortunate too and Nanami doesn't want to reveal it if he doesn't have to. So, he splits the difference somewhat. ]
Do you know Gojo Satoru? We work at the same school together, though I am not a teacher. More of a mentor to the students.
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Satoru... yes, I have a fondness for him. [ But like, genuinely and not at all sarcastically or with a hint of tiredness. ] Such a youthful spirit, hehe.
[ Actually, she speaks of him positively the way a teacher might speak of a young student — no doubt affectionately, but also in a somewhat praise-like manner, too. Very, "aww, he's a good kid," vibes, even though visually, Satoru looks to be her senior; despite her elegant cadence, her visage is quite youthful. ]
Might you also be a sorcerer, then? His ally in his ambitions, perhaps?
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But then she is asking if he's a sorcerer and Nanami tries not to sigh because again, Gojo? Really? How many people did you tell? Does secrecy mean nothing to you? Then again — too many people in their world knew Gojo as The Strongest, so why would he hide it? The man really has never lived in the real world, with normal humans before. ]
I am. We've been acquaintances since we were teenagers.
[ They're friends, but he's not gonna use the f-word. ]
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[ That... actually relieves her, a little bit. All this time, she'd thought Satoru might have just been trucking along by himself and his students. It's a good thing he has an acquaintance, an ally, particularly one that seems so level-headed as this one. When her eyes open again, her gaze is softened. With a cryptic admiration: ]
My, you must be quite talented, to stand at his side. I am glad that you may both ease each other's burdens in your plight... [ Because all that stuff about changing jujutsu society and dealing with curses born from people's fears sounded Very Heavy. ] But may I ask for your name? I am called Giselle.
[ Since she can't really formally greet him as she'd like to, given their positions, she just politely nods her head. ]
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But the idea of Gojo and him easing each other's burdens... he's not sure how that sits with him. Gojo doesn't let people in and Nanami keeps Gojo at a distance. Yet they're still comrades, he would say. They've still known each other so long, it's hard to say there isn't connection there. ]
I am only as strong as I need to be in order to do what has to be done. But thank you for your consideration. I do appreciate it.
[ And he'll bow his head in turn, happy to give her his name. ]
Nanami Kento. It is a pleasure to officially meet you, Giselle-san.