tushanshu_logs | [Midnight Hotel] February catch-all

Entry tags:

[Midnight Hotel] February catch-all

Characters: Anyone, everyone.
Date: Month of February, 2016.
Location: The Midnight Hotel.
Situation: Catch-all post! Feel free to use this post for anything that happens within the Midnight Hotel during the month of January, using the subject header to label specific rooms or for specific people. See also the OOC note at the bottom.
Warnings/Rating: None thus far.

Now that work on the public console had been completed, the Hotel’s lobby seemed larger and clearer than it had been previously—or it would, save for the decently regular flow of traffic. Most of that traffic were kedan using the Hotel's commons and facilities, but whereas most of those not actively staying at the Hotel were usually gang-members.

This month there are a fair few ordinary kedan from various walks of life—kedan who, in light of the emissaries’ presence, decide that at least presenting the illusion of branching out might endear them to the ambassadors. While the atmosphere is not exactly relaxed, it’s significantly less volatile than it would otherwise be; even the gang-members are on their best behaviour.

As always, great effort is made to inform newcomers of the Hotel’s strict rule of non-violence.

[ooc: The Midnight Hotel’s status page is available here, with the rules at the top and ongoing status at the bottom. PLEASE POST TO THE STATUS PAGE IF YOUR CHARACTER WOULD LIKE A ROOM OR A JOB. Anton will manufacture means of payment until Foreigners are able to properly offer recompense or choose to move out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The evening Solomon met Genis, for a given definition of 'met', saw Solomon in the Hotel common-room. While he'd meant to borrow another room for a night, his mind was far too active to actually get to sleep; instead he took a mug of tea from the darkened kitchen to sit in front of the fire.

It had made sense at the time to take off his shoes and coat, and make himself comfortable. He just hadn't expected, somewhere along the line, to fall asleep on a public couch.

The remainder of Raine's day passed uneasily and alone, with both brother and beau now absent and only the problem of what to do with the former at the forefront of her mind. The more she thought about it, the more Genis' reaction made some kind of a sense-- for her it had been nearly a year of consciously remembered time since the growth of the Tree, but he was still fresh from betrayal and upheaval, and still only twelve.

This did not tell her what to do about it, beyond give him some time, and it did not ease her mind over much. Nor did the fact Solomon had said he'd return tomorrow-- Raine could do without his presence for one night, but she didn't particularly want to, as things stood. Thus, late in the night with book in hand, she abandoned their too-quiet room for the common room downstairs, reasoning that a change in locale and a distraction would be as good a rest as actual sleep.

She felt Solomon's presence before she saw him, and the trouble in her expression had already dissolved into something softer, more fond, by the time she came around the couch to see him sleeping there. What had he been thinking? That was a wholly unnecessary step to take, though well-intentioned, and Raine regarded him for several long moments before taking her book back upstairs.

When she returned it was with a blanket from their room in hand, and she gave the couch a speculative look. Solomon was not the lightest of sleepers, after all, and he had not quite managed to take over the entire couch. The decision to fit herself into the space remaining was not the most practical, and indeed Raine found herself somewhat more atop him than beside as she'd intended, but he was warm and familiar and the steady beat of his heart was a comfort, and even the fact that this was technically a public place could be ignored in favor of that. Raine tugged the blanket over them, and closed her eyes.

The most that Solomon did was stir a little with her settling weight on him, but other than that he slept right on until sometime in the early morning, when he finally came drifting naturally up out of sleep. The first thing he noticed was that the book had grown very heavy on his chest, and then he noticed that the object on him was rather larger than even a very heavy book would be, and then he remembered that he hadn't had a book because he'd disdained the ridiculous Monster Hunter ones on Shudder's shelves.

He inhaled, this time more awake, and awake enough to recognise the scent of Raine's hair and the touch of her hand flat on his chest. It wasn't exactly usual that she lay so directly on him, though it wasn't uncomfortable by any means.

At first Solomon didn't dare move. His fingers curled in the blanket over them, and then carded gently through her hair, but it wasn't his intent to wake her. His mind still hadn't settled from the night before. These few moments felt almost peaceful, in lieu of that.

She stirred before too long, though not completely to wakefulness, with a sleepy sound of inquiry. The situation filled itself in before any actual answers could be made, however, with quiet surroundings and familiar mana. No doubt about who she'd been sleeping on, and there was no urgency to his touch; Raine could doze a while longer, content in that safety.

The part of her mind closest to being alert categorized the gesture as 'sweet' and also possibly 'progress' before declining to wake any further, as it was unnecessary. Raine shifted a very little, only to ease some stiffness, and settled again with her head tucked against Solomon's chest, happily oblivious to the fact that she was effectively keeping him there.

When Raine stirred Solomon paused, just in case she'd woken, and he found himself relieved and charmed when she only re-settled, nuzzling his chest as she did. He also found himself smiling as he threaded his fingers back through her hair, but the moment was lost just as soon as he realised he was.

"You are expecting the same level of dedication as you're putting into that relationship. She is your wi'iyat, and you're not hers. It's driving you crazy, and you don't even recognize why."

Bakura's words had been lurking all night, and as they had all night they rose up in the forefront of Solomon's mind at the most inopportune moments. All of a sudden Solomon wanted to be able to move without disturbing someone, wanted the distance; but he was effectively trapped, and it struck him as caddish to disturb Raine for the sake of something she, apparently, couldn't help.

Still, the relaxation had gone, and his fingers had stilled, and if Raine was close enough to wakefulness she might be able to tell.

She was, up till that moment, also happily oblivious to the fact anything might be amiss with Solomon himself. Even then, the lapse in his touch might be attributed to any number of practical considerations, but that change heralded the inexorable march toward proper waking, and from there Raine came aware that something of the languorous peace had gone.

A pity, but it was morning, after all, and they weren't in their room, where it might be somewhat easier to simply stay as they were. Nor, probably, should they remain here long enough for others to wake and find them. A little resigned, Raine flattened one hand against his chest and pushed herself upright, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "My apologies," she said through a yawn, and shook herself, and surveyed the man she'd lately made her pillow. "Did you need me to move?"

Something in his expression, perhaps, that she didn't quite know what to make of, and her gaze lingered on his face, trying to make sense of it.

Without meaning it, Solomon searched her face, but when Raine returned the examination Solomon found himself unable to hold her gaze. Telling her 'yes' felt too much like an admission, but keeping her on him felt ... paralysing. He wasn't sure why.

"Please," he said in the end, because it was all he could think to say. Even when he was discombobulated he could usually summon words, distractions. Why couldn't he now?

If anything gave her reason to be concerned, it was that he did not meet her eyes; that had only infrequently occurred in the past, and it had not then heralded good things. But for that, she might let things slide. Raine sat back, a faint crease between her eyebrows the beginnings of a thoughtful frown, and in a moment she freed herself of the blanket and stood, touch lingering only a little longer than strictly necessary.

She might well be making trouble where there was none, seeing what wasn't there thanks to the very recent upheaval-- but then, wasn't it better to be sure? Raine offered a hand back down to Solomon, should he wish the assistance getting free of the couch. "Forgive me if I'm reaching, but is something amiss? You seem a little..." Unsure how to finish the sentence, she shook her head just a little, still with that half-frown.

"Nothing--" Solomon sighed. "Nothing I'd like to talk about in a public area." He hesitated and then pushed himself into a seated position, but took Raine's hand and kissed the back of it, more formally than he had been doing lately.

He could have asked Skulduggery to talk--but Skulduggery might have told him the same thing Bakura had. Solomon wasn't sure he would be able to handle that. And it didn't involve Skulduggery, in any case; it involved Raine. If nothing else, Solomon could take away from all this one thing: he didn't want to be Skulduggery, shouldering a burden meant for more than one person due to nothing more than his ego.

If Solomon was still so afflicted, then there was only one obvious recourse: go to the source.

"Our room?" he suggested instead, and though the kiss on Raine's hand had been distant, he hadn't let go of it yet. "I'll get us something to drink." The tea they hadn't had the night before, perhaps.

At least they would not be reprising the situation from December, just after they'd woken; in retrospect, that had been a decidedly poor setting for that conversation. A necessary one, but even so.

"All right," Raine agreed. The need for privacy might bode poorly, but in turn the fact that he was willing to speak of whatever troubled him was promising. Her gaze was drawn down, to the hand he still held; she had not yet made an effort to reclaim it. "I'll meet you there, then."

Another breath, then, recognizing that moving would be necessary, Raine sighed, and squeezed his hand lightly before drawing back to head for the stairs.

Solomon took a little longer than necessary to get the tea and bring it up, owing to the need to marshal his thoughts. Even still he didn't feel quite prepared by the time he came to their room and hesitated, and balanced the tray on one arm to knock even though logic told him there was no need to worry this morning.

He entered at Raine's assent a moment later, putting down the tray where the one last night had been, and was no longer, and took off his coat and shoes. He asked, "How did the rest of your meeting go last night?"

Raine had been near the window, gaze distant, thoughts elsewhere, but the knock brought her focus back to the present moment, as well as earning Solomon a faintly bemused look in the seconds after. That faded soon enough as well, however, at the question. "Not catastrophically," Raine said, with a quirk to her mouth not quite mirthful enough to be an actual smile. She crossed to where he was, intent on the tea. "But there was not much beyond when you left, either. Genis needs some space to readjust, it seems, and I can give him at least that much. In a little while we'll pick up again."

She lifted one shoulder in half a shrug, added by way of explanation, "For him, it had been only a matter of hours since he'd seen me last."

Solomon had no idea what to say to that. Genis's presence ... wasn't precisely the issue so much as the catalyst for an issue Solomon hadn't realise was there--if it was there. He hung up his coat and went to pick up one of the teacups, and sat in one of the chairs. For a long moment he said nothing at all, before finally chuckling wryly.

"I've no idea how to begin that doesn't make me sound like a child or a cad," he said. "I suppose I might begin with asking ... what you intend out of our, ah, affiliation."

He did not get an immediate response; Raine studied him for a little time over her own teacup, equal parts curious and thoughtful. Whatever he was aiming at overall was currently beyond her, though evidently serious, and as much as she might like to have the complete picture first, Solomon was starting here for a reason. Thus, she would begin with what was in front of her, as ever.

"It's a broad question," she said at length. "In the simplest terms, as we previously discussed, I'd rather face whatever lies ahead here with you, rather than without. A little more specifically-- I suppose my intent is to continue to build a relationship based in mutual understanding and attraction, on levels both mental and physical, from which both of us may draw support, sharing joys and sorrows as they come." A tiny smile, which this time was genuine warmth. "Ideally, I'd like to see you safe and happy, but I recognize we live in a world that is not without risk."

If he needed more, he was going to have to narrow his query. "Why do you ask?"

"Because now that Genis is here, I had wondered if you had need of me," Solomon admitted--which was the part which sounded childish. As did the carrying of tales, so to speak, which was why Solomon didn't mention names as he added, "It was pointed out to me last night that your brother will always be the most important person to you. If that's the case--as it should be; he's family--then I'm ... unsure where my place ought to be at this point, if anywhere."

The words were uncharacteristically unsure, almost vulnerable, and while Solomon wasn't looking down his gaze didn't quite meet Raine's either.

Raine blinked. The possibilities she had been entertaining did not approach this problem in any way. She turned briefly to set her tea down safely, before something could happen to it, and thereafter Solomon had her undivided focus. "Solomon," she said, and it was the near-vulnerability in his tone that had her gentling her own. "My brother's presence -- the fact of his existence -- in no way diminishes the love I have for you. Each of you has his own importance: different, not lesser." It was at this point, far too late to do anything about it, that she consciously noticed her own phrasing choices; all she could do was not draw attention to the word.

She crossed to the chair where he sat, stopped only a pace or two away, not pushing into his space but refusing to be anything resembling distant. "Of course Genis is important. Without him, I wouldn't be here in the first place. But... the same can be said of you. Without you, I'm not sure I could have broken Malicant's control, back then. There are things I can share with you that I can't with him; the-- the place you fill is an entirely different one." And now, she noted, she was almost scrambling, chaining thoughts together with less regard for cohesion. Raine stopped there, watching.

Though Raine didn't draw attention to the word, Solomon noticed it. He noticed it a lot, and it struck him dumb--which was alright while Raine was talking, but somewhat more noticeable when she'd stopped. To be honest, it was a little bit difficult to pay attention to anything past that. Valdis had described Raine thusly, but neither Raine nor Solomon had used the word around each other.

"I see," he said, though he didn't, completely, because of that other detail Bakura had pointed out. "I had ... ah ... wondered whether it was right of me to--" He stopped, sorted out his thought process. "It was pointed out to me that I was expecting the same amount of dedication from you as I'm putting into the relationship," he said at last, "because to my understanding, a relationship should have equal dedication from either side. I don't want to be like Skulduggery. I don't want to assume I don't deserve certain rights because of what I've done in the past, because that way lies useless self-flagellation. But it was ... pointed out ... that it was--well, that I shouldn't. Because I don't. Deserve the expectation, that is."

Now Solomon was the one scrambling, and the moment he realised it he fell silent with a grimace. So much for articulation.

"Oh?" Here Raine was on slightly firmer ground; Solomon was laboring under a misapprehension that she could correct. "Why shouldn't you? The ideal is a partnership, which rather implies that both parties involved carry equal responsibility." Though she'd meant to go on, she stopped there as a few things slotted into place at once -- the idea that her brother was the most important person in her life, the way Solomon had wanted to know where he stood -- and Raine concluded rather abruptly that Solomon might well have begun this conversation because she was currently the most important person to him. "Oh," she said again, more softly. The thought was logical enough on one level, she supposed, but it was an odd thing to consider.

Her heart was light in her chest; it felt like a fragile thing. Raine attempted to ignore that and marshal her thoughts back to the initial intent. "I'll always have responsibilities," she said in a moment. She'd always have her brother, the child she'd raised. There would be times he had to come first, but the reverse was also true. "But there is no reason you should not expect or deserve an equal partnership, no. Everything I can reasonably give, I have and I shall. The question is then, I suppose, is that enough?"

"Because I killed you," said Solomon simply. "Because of the people I've killed and planned to kill, and the things I've done. I didn't want to assume I couldn't be worthy of the same level of commitment I'd offer, but I was told it was presumptuous given my past to expect it."

In which case, of course, he'd been wondering at the point of the relationship at all--but now the wondering seemed a moot one, since Bakura's assertion was apparently false. Though he hardly felt as though he needed the time to consider, Solomon still paused to take in her words.

"It is," he said, and a little smile might have been lingering around his mouth. "That was what I was assuming was occurring, but then--well. I suppose Genis isn't the only one thrown off by his sudden presence here."

If he was not apparently quite so set on concealing the identity of his adviser, Raine might well have had to track that person down for a serious conversation as well. "We've touched on this before, to an extent," Raine pointed out. "The first I've long since forgiven; the rest necessarily only you may come to terms with, but-- it doesn't affect your worthiness here and now in any way save that weight which you yourself put on it."

Something eased, at his last words, and Raine drifted half a step closer. "He startled me, as well," she admitted. Shook her head. That would take time, and would not be fixed this instant. Solomon was before her, and she would focus on him. "You were correct in your previous assumption, then. Is there any other matter in which I may set your mind at ease?"

"Forgiveness is difficult for most people to grasp, apparently," Solomon said dryly, thinking of Bakura and Skulduggery and both their idiocies, and then thinking of his father's honest faith. Solomon was one of the few sorcerers who hadn't rejected Christianity because of how he was raised. Maybe that was what would make the difference for him.

Not that Solomon was considering converting, by any means, but the context and the background served as something of a--

He was quite firmly pulled away from inner considerations to Raine's proximity, and Raine's demeanour, and Raine's words, and he took a sip of his tea to cover the sudden smile. If she wasn't deliberately seducing him, she was certainly making a good pretense. "There may be one or two," he said airily, elbows on the chair's arms and tea cradled in his hands, positioned enough to be in the way but easily removed. "Is there something in particular you would care to address?"

"Evidently so," Raine agreed. There were enough of that sort in her world, on both sides of the matter. Honestly. Forgetting mistakes served no one, but neither did dwelling in them to the exclusion of all else.

As to the other matter-- well. She was not exactly intending to seduce him, except in the ongoing sense of their strange little contest of wills, but the peaceful intimacy of earlier had been unfortunately interrupted by practical concerns and the new lightness in his tone suggested the emotional issue was at least somewhat resolved. All this contributed to a growing desire for some kind of closeness. "Let me see," Raine said aloud, considering if she did have anything that would better be addressed now. "...No, I don't believe I have any pressing issues to raise right now."

She reached out; her hands hovered briefly over his, then settled on the teacup, a question in the gesture. "Save that I'd like to be sure you understand exactly how much I want you," she added, matter-of-fact. It was meant in the general sense, to encompass all the senses in which she did. "One or two other matters, you said?"

Well, well, well. That was interesting and far more palatable than the previous emotional turbulence, and her wording made Solomon's heart beat a little faster. He let Raine take the cup, even though he hadn't yet finished his tea. "Nothing that couldn't wait, I think," Solomon said blithely, watching her watch him. "Please do, go on. I should hate for there to be any ambiguity about how much you want me."

A brief pause while she relocated his tea to a safe, flat location, and realized also exactly how her words might have been construed. Which was not entirely inaccurate, but not her primary goal. At the moment.

When Raine returned to stand directly in front of him again, she had at least some of her thoughts in order. "It would be, I agree, a benefit to us both to be precise and clear, leaving as little ambiguity as possible," she said, with a decisive nod. She was smiling, the expression small but warm. "Of course, I'm happy to remind you as necessary, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's see. I don't believe I ever mentioned it, but you should know you were a significant part of my decision to stay here, when the opportunity to return home was offered."

It was not something she at all wanted to bring up with Genis, but it seemed like something Solomon deserved to know. Raine leaned forward just a little, her hands resting on the arms of the chair. "I want to wake up to you, day after day," she said, quiet, intent on his face. "To speak with you at leisure, of everything and nothing. And while I confess I am more than occasionally tempted to drag you back into bed when you find it necessary to leave, in the grand scheme of things what matters most of all this, Solomon, is simply having you in my life."

She wanted-- something. To be closer than she was, certainly, but nevertheless Raine hesitated over the urge to reach out, not wholly sure what to do with it.

Solomon had known that Raine had chosen to stay--it had come up, if he recalled, when they woke up from their year-long hiatus--but Raine had never put it quite so explicitly. The way she said it, the fact she regarded him so intently, took his breath away. The actual words took away any hope of a verbal response.

It wasn't often Solomon was at a loss for words. It seemed to happen more frequently the longer he was with Raine.

In lieu of any other response Solomon sat up to kiss her, though it was markedly unlike his usual teasing kisses. This one was almost self-conscious, and soft, and tender in a way Solomon hadn't think he could be or even recognised that he was.

[Midnight Hotel] February catch-all

9/10 Feb; CLOSED to RAINE

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)