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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Tentatively, she reaches out to take his hand, her palm as icy as the floor beneath them. Perhaps the cold around the hotel has exacerbated her frigid nature, though she herself is unaware of it, as she tries to regain stability underneath herself so she can stand. ]
I am simply a maid, [ She remarks, coolly, as she finally begins to Attempt getting up, which of course means she's pulling on his hand with considerably more force than prior. At least she keeps an eye on him to see if he's going to fall?? ] Nothing more than that.
[ So, she still doesn't outright claim or deny her humanity, leaving the matter vague, but certainly going unanswered enough to imply that 'human' is not a complete answer, either. Which, she thinks he should get — he must be a departed soul, right? Those barred from the realm of living, she's not sure they can truly be called humans. ]
Just as you are merely a tax collector and a guest, perhaps. [ He's certainly not advertising what he is and whatever's happened to him, so she thinks he's more close to her side of things (ambiguously not human and concealing it) than not. ] Is that right?
no subject
her comment just earns a slight shake of his head, though his expression stays impassive. He figured she didn't buy that... ]
Consider it a compliment. I don't share the details in good company.
[ not like it matters when he's dead, but telling everyone he's a mobster would surely bring some unsavory assumptions with it, and he'd rather not deal with explaining. Especially when most of those assumptions are true. ]
Being human is a compliment, too.
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[ ...even though she's very, very curious. Were they in the mansion, she'd get the truth eventually despite sticking to the same polite response, so long as she waited long enough. But here, in the hotel, she hardly has eyes and ears everywhere — isn't bound to the very walls, privy to each whisper and secret. Her eyes flick down at his feet as she pulls herself up, more looking to make sure that he doesn't slip than at any signs of magic — when she sees that strange flicker, she hardly thinks anything of it, attributing it to supernatural handiwork of the house or the man in front of her near instantly.
Once she's back up, she gives his hand a little cold pat with her free hand, her touch proper and grateful. ]
But thank you for aiding me — that alone tells me much about you. [ As does his rather serious disposition... though she won't comment on that. ] Things more important than your occupation, perhaps.