hotelcaelum | Event Log #004

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Event Log #004

EVENT LOG
number 004

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't know. This way that you are being.

[ maybe YOU should try not being that way first, Sprezzatura. ]

[help... what did he DO]

I think I'm taking it pretty well, all things considered. ["all things considered": her less than ideal reaction to his monster body]

That! You are talking like I am rejecting you, like everything is all made up. All I say is "it might". Is that so wrong?

No. But I'm allowed to be- [afraid] -worried that you will, aren't I?

[ that's a stab of something unpleasant that she does not, Does Not, want to face head-on just now. that she might. that he's afraid she might. it's the start of that stifling feeling, the death knell of every relationship she's ever been in. ]

You think so low of me. Bahh. So be it.

That’s not fair. I never said that, Sprezzatura.

[That he thinks so low of her.]

You worry it.

And that doesn’t mean I think you’re going to toss me aside right here, right now.

But you’re not exactly giving me reassurances, either. You’re not telling me that your feelings won’t change just because of what I am.

[ and she still doesn't. in fact, she feels her voice dry up in her throat as soon as he's pointed it out.

what he is... what he is...

she looks at him and sees flayed limbs. she sees Vecna.

at last, her voice sounding as though she'd had to dredge it up, ] I need to think.

[She needs to think.

And his own mind spins.

What if she decides she wants nothing to do with him? Where does that leave him? (Alone again.) What would he do about it? Could he return to his world, continue his goals, and think nothing of her anymore?

No. He couldn’t.

So what then? He couldn’t force her to accept him — wouldn’t want to, anyway. He couldn’t hurt her in his anger or disappointment; he thinks he [redacted] her too much for that now. But no one else could have her. No one in this hotel, no one back in her world. Her world. Could he follow her there somehow? Tear another hole in reality, try to get her accept him, kill anyone who would dare touch her in the interim?

He could. Maybe.]

[No. Let her think first. Give her time to decide.]

…all right. If you need time, then I won’t deny you that.

[ like about a month and a half of time. it's fine. really.

she, none the wiser, picks at a spot on her coverlet. how does she... say this? ]

I think I am going home for little while. I have things I need to bring with me back here.

[ before they're taken. or destroyed. ]

[The way those ugly thoughts go lancing through his mind immediately, all over again. The way Henry sits up just as quickly, frowning.]

What?

[Going home?]

What things? For how long?

[ that's what she thought, what the part of her that chafes at the care owed to a partner worried, and she shifts back, defensive despite her better instincts. or maybe it's "defense because of her worst"... ]

How should I be knowing? Things! I did not come here expecting to while away for months and months; I have not paid my rent that they will just wait for me to come back whenever I fancy. They will throw it all away!

[Henry gives no thought to leaving this hotel, or what transpires while he's gone. What's there to tend to? A hivemind and a lingering shadow, all of which will still be there when he returns.

But Sprezzatura, she has a place full of things and rent to pay. This is a realization that dawns on him so belatedly -- her life she's left behind.]

So you'll be back soon, then?

[Pay her rent and come back, right? Maybe it's fine if she's not gone for very long. (lol) Maybe she's not fleeing because it's him.]

I don't know, Henry! Things are very complicated being for me in Waterdeep.

[ she can't think about it too much or her chest feels like it's collapsing. ]

I have...

[ not friends. not even enemies. just... detractors. libel. slander. a landlord waiting to throw her out, and nowhere to go once that's done.

maybe to Winter. maybe that. ]

...I just have to see.

[Maybe with any luck, time would have passed differently in her world. Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all. Maybe she’ll come back.

He’s not sure he can bear losing her the same way he lost Patty — one day there, one day gone. Just fading away.]

But I’ll miss you if you’re gone for too long.

[It sounds like an almost childish rejoinder, but maybe the core of him—this much, anyway, not wanting to be tossed aside—hasn’t ever changed in him.]

[ tieflings do not have luck. ]

Welcome to life, Henry. We are all missing things which are gone. That is what makes us like human.

[ when neither of them, truly, are. ]

[Something inside of him balks. Welcome to life, Henry. Why does she have to say it like that? Like she's-]

Don't... talk down to me like that. Like I haven't lost things before.

[Like his entire life isn't shaped by the void left by things gone missing.]

The least you could do is promise that you'll try your best to return as soon as you can.

"Least I can do"? I am not owing you anything! But since we are on topic, you are talking as though I am just supposed to live rest of my life out here—why? Because you are here? Because your life is so bitter than you would rather start over here than fix what went wrong there?

[ she doesn't say any of that.

she hears herself say it, plays out every word in her mind, but her voice has gone to live somewhere deep down in her throat. nothing comes out. just a strangled little breath of frustration.

puts her hands up into her hair and tugs at it for a second. takes her glasses off; cleans them on her blouse. puts them on again.

then, and only then, does she really speak: ] I will try.

[Again, the implication of something unsaid in the space between replies. It would be so easy to dip into her mind and hear her thoughts, catch wind of what she really wants to say.

In this case, it's probably for the best that he doesn't.

He'll just have to be satisfied with her accedence. Even if it felt like pulling teeth to earn it.]

...Okay.

[ with exhaustion, ] I am not abandoning you, you know.

[Telling this to a man whose obsession and need for control just might stem from abandonment issues, or did she forget about what he said about his parents-]

I know. [Well, no, he doesn't. But he will try to trust her on that. For Henry's, that's big.] It's just, the timing...

Would there ever be good timing to tell you I am going?

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