tushanshu_logs | [Midnight Hotel] Fourth-wall catch-all; 15-30 April

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[Midnight Hotel] Fourth-wall catch-all; 15-30 April

Characters: Anyone, everyone.
Date: 15-30th April, ‘2016’.
Location: The Midnight Hotel.
Situation: It’s the fourth-wall event and there’s a sudden influx of patrons! Feel free to use this post for anything that happens within the Midnight Hotel during the two weeks of the fourth-wall event, using the subject header to label specific rooms or for specific people. Regulars should feel free to continue using the non-fourth-wall Hotel post for pre-fourth-wall threads! See also the OOC note at the bottom.
Warnings/Rating: Mark your threads if content warnings become applicable, please!

The Midnight Hotel is a magical place—which is fortunate, because Keeliai has magically doubled the number of patrons the Hotel is capable of holding. Where else is capable of catering to an extra fifty Foreigners? the kedan say. Where else would want to?

Unfortunately, for all the Hotel’s many qualities and all the proprietor’s many skills, he can’t conjure up enough rooms for fifty extra people on no notice.

The solution: giant slumber party.

For the next two weeks the ground-floor common-area and the dining-area beside the garage have been repurposed as sleeping areas. Blankets, sheets, pillows, bean-bags, sleeping-bags—Mr Anton Shudder has gone, quite literally, to town in order to cater to the new arrivals. No one is going to be uncomfortable, except by the prospect of sleeping so close to strangers—but there isn’t much to be done about that. The very few rooms still available have been reserved for those who well and truly require the privacy.

Catering is a little more difficult. Suffice to say Mr Shudder is outsourcing for a good part of the fortnight.

On the plus side, Mr Shudder is gracious enough to let those without a soul-gem stay for free. As long as, of course, they Follow The Rules, which are told to every newcomer nearly as soon as they’re welcomed through the door.

Although Anton does attend the festival, he can be regularly found throughout the Hotel for anyone who has questions or concerns. He will, most of the time, be dogged by a bouncy fellow with an indefatigable grin, and it won’t be uncommon to hear variations of the following conversation:

“Hey, Anton—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even—”

“No.”

“Excuse me, I was just going to say—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Anton, hey Anton, hey hey Anton?”

“No.”

And so it goes.

[ooc: The Midnight Hotel’s status page is available here, with the rules at the top and ongoing status at the bottom. PLEASE PM ME IF YOUR CHARACTER WILL PERFORM A VIOLENT ACT. The Hotel is a neutral-zone and the proprietor is very strict as to acts of violence, and it will receive a response.

It will not be necessary for fourth-wall characters to officially check into the Hotel during the event.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Raine wandered into the kitchen on one of those occasions -- not to cook anything, thank you, she'd received enough helpful feedback from the men in her life that she was holding off on further experimentation for a few weeks at least. No, she'd been looking for her brother, and the kitchen was usually one of the safer places to find him, but instead she found-- food on the ceiling.

This could not be blamed on her, and she would direct anyone who tried to this stranger. A stranger who knew Anton, at least, she'd seen them near each other in the lobby in passing and the behavioral dynamics were pretty clear. "Have you recently seen a boy about this tall, with roughly my coloration?" she inquired, indicating roughly shoulder-height. Then Raine tipped her head back, squinted at the ceiling, and added, "And what were you trying to make? I don't think I've ever made something explode with quite that much force."

"You know, I don't even know," said Larrikin thoughtfully, tapping his chin and gazing up at the ceiling. Some of it was pretty burned, and that made it really hard to tell, especially since he hadn't been paying that much attention to what he'd been putting into the pot.

Primarily, it had to be said, just to make it explode.

He threw her a massive grin. "But it's an awesome reaction, innit?" Larrikin snapped up a hand and a chunk of the food scraped off the ceiling and plopped to the floor, or would have if Larrikin's other hand hadn't snapped up to catch it on the air. Bit by bit he proceeded to scrape it all off, making a face as he did so. "It's just too bad Anton doesn't appreciate my scientific endeavours."

"I'm not sure 'awesome' is the word I would use," Raine said, dryly, watching the way he manipulated the air with some fascination. Elemental, then. "Though I can certainly sympathize. I know a number of people who believe science ought to be kept out of the kitchen." She sounded moderately affronted by the last.

When it became evident the ceiling would yield nothing more useful, Raine peered at the blackened pot he'd been using, thoughtful. "I suppose you cannot then repeat the process, if you weren't keeping track. Is there any chance of telling exactly which ingredients caused the, ah, combustion?"

"The kitchen is all about science," said Larrikin, sounding doubly affronted on Raine's behalf, and plopped everything into the bin. He made a wet dishrag sail across the air and happily set about scrubbing the ceiling. Just like scrubbing a ship's deck! Except, you know, upside-down.

"Not unless you want to ask Anton what things he keeps here can explode," Larrikin said cheerfully, "and I don't know about you, but I'm not going to invite being punched again. I mean, not for this." Punching for stealing things and therefore technically breaking the Hotel rule, Larrikin could accept, even though he only stole from Anton's rooms and just to annoy him. (It was working.)

"Haven't seen him, though," he added belatedly. "A boy with your colouration, that is." He regarded her wistfully. "I don't s'pose he's a midget? Any bloke with your colouration would be a fox."

A midget-- why in the world? "He's twelve," Raine said, flatly. "My younger brother."

She... supposed she could appreciate the backward compliment in that, though. She watched the dishrag move, absently tracking the mana involved-- it was distinctly different than a spellcaster from her world, but there was still something there. "Somehow, I've never given Anton occasion to punch me," she informed him, the earlier flatness fading in favor of amusement. "Nothing about our relationship previously had led me to believe that was a genuine risk, and I'd like to keep it that way. If you do repeat the experiment, it would be more useful, scientifically speaking, if you kept track of what you used."

"Ah, twelve," said Larrikin with a sigh. "The worst of years. Old enough to understand things, not old enough for anyone to listen. He's going to bring in all the pretty lads and handsome ladies when he's grown, you wait and see."

He judged the ceiling cleaned and flicked his fingers and sent the dishcloth splacking into the sink. "He's adorable when he's all annoyed," Larrikin informed her, grinning. "He does this pouty thing where his mouth draws all tight and his brow wrinkles. I saw his brow wrinkle the other day, but haven't managed to get the pout." He waved a lazy hand. "Nah. Then I can't be surprised by another explosive combination."

It had not previously occurred to Raine that this would be a problem she'd have to deal with. Genis' adolescent crush on Presea had been-- sweet, in its own way, and the girl had been remarkably gentle about her demurrals given her state, and that Raine was fairly sure would sort itself out with little intervention from her. But Genis was growing up, slowly but surely, and there was a day in the future where Raine would have to deal with genuine suitors.

For several long moments, she simply stared at Larrikin, appropriately horrified by this eventuality. Then she shook herself, put that aside to think about later, and very firmly moved on.

"If you can't be surprised, neither can you repeat the effect intentionally if you want to," she pointed out, resorting to the safer topic: science. "As much fun as experimentation is, I find it more satisfying when it expands the breadth of my knowledge, rather than simply making a mess." Which was not to say that she always succeeded at that, but she tried.

A pause, and then, faintly disbelieving, "May I ask how long you've known Anton? I wouldn't have guessed he was capable of... pouting."

"Oooh, he is very capable of pouting," said Larrikin with a grin, wagging his finger at her. "I should know. I've known him for centuries." Anton, apparently, was a much better topic than science or lack thereof, even in relation to food and exploding pots.

"It's not as obviously pouty as most peoples' pout, but it is definitely a pout. You've just gotta watch--" He moulded his face into Anton's customary impassive expression, and then subtly changed it into that disapproving 'you did wrong and I want to be amused but have to be responsible and it's annoying' expression. Larrikin pointed to his eyebrows and then his mouth. "There and there. See?"

It was a pout. It showed better on Larrikin's face, since Larrikin's face was built for pouts, but the expression was unmistakeably Anton's. After having known him so long, and being such a consummate actor, the resemblance was otherwise uncanny.

Edited 2015-05-01 11:20 (UTC)

Raine did not bother questioning centuries at all, only noted that it likely made him one of Skulduggery's friends, as well. Good that he was here, then. Both Skulduggery and Anton could certainly use the cheer. She did, however, lean a little to pay close attention to his face, herself frowning absently in thought as she made the attempt to transpose the expression onto Anton's face in her mind's eye.

It didn't quite want to work at first, but after a moment the shift made sense, and Raine blinked, her expression clearing as she straightened. "Ah," she said. "Yes, I believe I've seen that expression. I'm not sure I would have called it a pout, but it's happened. Mostly directed at Ryder." Her tone had turned faintly wistful by the end; she missed him still.

"Ah!" Grinning hugely, Larrikin pointed at her. "See? He pouts. I mean, sure, compared to nearly everyone else it's not a pout, but on Anton, it's definitely a pout. Who's Ryder?"

The words came out almost pelting, in a combination of glee and amusement. Even when he didn't say much all at once, Larrikin gave the unmistakeable implication of being a chatterer.

This also explained so very much about Anton's legendary patience. The man's enthusiasm was catching; Raine found herself smiling, despite the not entirely sweet nostalgia of bringing up Ryder. She didn't doubt he was alive and safe, there was enough vestige of the link at the back of her mind for that, but it lacked his more certain presence, the loudly polite pushiness that had been more helpful than she'd ever thought.

She missed him. Much as she had Genis, before he showed up. "Our child," Raine said absently, realizing that she'd left Anton's friend hanging on an answer while she reminisced.

The delight started in the back of Larrikin's throat as a high-pitched whine and burst out as some combination of a squeal and a whoop. He tackled her in a hug and spun her around, still squealing but now laughing at once.

"I knew it! I knew that impotence excuse was just an excuse!" The spin ended but Larrikin only yanked her in to hug her hard. "That makes you my sister-in-law!"

Raine realized exactly what she had said wrong about two seconds after she'd said it, blamed her tendency to ignore species in favor of simply referring to the hatchlings as children. Unfortunately, she hadn't the time to correct herself before she was yanked off her feet. "Put me down," she demanded, not quite shrill, and was a little unsteady on her feet once he had.

"I'm afraid I've given you the wrong idea," she said in a moment, when she realized that she was not getting out of the hug under her own power. "Ryder's not a human child. He's a hatchling, of the same species as the turtle on which we stand; he was very particular about his choice in parents, however." Had practically shoved her into the Hotel, in fact, which she was still thankful for.

Larrikin's body, quivering with joy and excitement, slumped as it deflated. "He's not a daddy?" he asked plaintively in her ear, or where her ear would be if there wasn't hair there, and pulled back, his disappointment written hugely on his face. "But he deserves to be a daddy! He loves taking care of people!"

Wait. Not a human child, and apparently he hadn't managed to have some bedly fun with this very attractive woman, but ... there was a child involved. "So this Ryder turtle hatchling adopted the two of you?"

Larrikin mulled that over and then beamed and hugged her again. "I can accept that! Does that mean you and him are still a you-and-him? Cos he's really earned a bit of joy between the bedsheets."

"He does very well at it," Raine said, a little dry now that her composure was recovered. As recovered as it could be while being enthusiastically embraced by a man who hadn't even introduced himself. "Yes, Ryder adopted both of us in turn. He took his time about it -- I was caring for him on my own for about a month -- but apparently Anton was worth waiting for. I don't disagree with Ryder's assessment, either."

She did feel a little bad for having evidently got his hopes up, but that vanished as soon as he hugged her again. "Let go, please," she said, firmly, not unkindly. "Anton is not the man I'm courting, no. He's a solid ally and a good friend, but no more than that to me."

"Anton is definitely worth waiting for," Larrikin said, his voice muffled again before he pulled back with a heaving sigh. "Oh, alright. At least Mr Handsome Man Krei still seems to be a good bet."

He patted Raine on the cheek. "Buuut if you ever need some tips for you handsome man, just let me know! I know all the tricks."

With a wink and a grin he finally stepped back and gave her some measure of breathing space, stretching. "And the quest continues!"

"I think," Raine said, with great delicacy, "that we can manage on our own." She was absolutely not talking about the intimate details of her relationship with this man. There was, in fact, no one she would like to talk about that with save perhaps Solomon himself.

She appreciated the breathing space, truly. Raine took a moment to look him over again, extended her hand in a slightly more formal gesture of greeting. "I'm Raine Sage; I'm a healer, primarily. Your quest to find Anton a suitable partner, I take it? Has that also lasted centuries?"

"The one and only Rover Larrikin!" He took her hand and gave her a surprisingly chaste and gallant kiss on the back of her knuckles, partly because it was barely a brush of his lips before he straightened up with a grin. It was a fun courtesy, rather than any seduction.

"You have no idea. I've known him for ... uh ... I dunno, four centuries? At first I was quite happy to have him all to myself, buuuuut ... " He shrugged, a sweeping shrug with arms out at his sides. "I got married."

Alright, so the marriage was a front for a party, but Larrikin also wasn't as interested in sex as he was in hugs and cuddles. He knew why Anton wasn't a hugger. He wasn't a hugger because it reminded him of his blood family, back when they all slept on the floor of a tiny hovel and Anton slept curled around the youngest of them. It was too painful. Whenever they had to share a bed and wound up in a compromising position, Larrikin got shoved out. Therefore, Anton needed someone he wouldn't want to shove out of his bed, and that someone couldn't be someone who reminded him of a younger brother like Larrikin did, and that meant someone Anton had never had before--a lover.

She raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but it was innocent enough, and didn't merit other comment. "A pleasure to meet you," she said. She hoped. "I'm sure I don't know most of it; Anton isn't much inclined to speak of his personal history, though he's been quite helpful with my queries about your world." A pause for thought, then, giving the idea slightly more consideration than she initially had. That long sounded like a bit more than a passing whim. Probably. "You seem particularly determined on this front. Why is that?"

"He doesn't like hugs," Larrikin explained, as if that was an affront that needed to be rectified. "He doesn't like hugs from his brothers and he probably doesn't like hugs from sisters, and since he claims he can't have children I have no idea whether he likes hugs from children. So I need to find him a lover so he can enjoy hugs."

It made absolute, perfect sense. If you were Rover Larrikin, or knew him well enough to understand his mind.

Especially when he ruined it a moment later by winking and slinging an arm over Raine's shoulders. "So you say you can manage on your own, but that's no reason not to get the goods when you've got the opportunity! Really. I know lots, and every couple has something they're trying to figure out. What's your pleasure, Madam Lady Healer Sage?"

"Not everyone is as given to physical affection," Raine pointed out. But, then again, the short list of people she generally wanted hugs from encompassed her brother and her lover, so perhaps Rover had a point. "But I... suppose that makes sense."

And then he had his arm over her shoulders, and that was tolerable enough, no worse than Zelos, but his line of inquiry had her losing the fight against the rising color in her cheeks. Absolutely not. "Raine," she said, firmly, "I get enough of that from him--"

The problem was, come to think of it, that there actually was something. Raine closed her eyes for a moment, sighed, and then proceeded as though she was not slowly turning pink. "...specifically, knots," she said, resigned. "He has a preference for being restrained; I have a preference for not hurting him with it."

"Ooh, one of the best kinds!" Except not, at least as far as Larrikin was concerned. Well, there was nothing wrong with it, but Larrikin had experienced too many times being tied up by people who didn't know what they were doing, and worse didn't care they didn't know what they were doing. That kind of took the fun out of it.

All in all he preferred being on the giving end, because at least then he could control the proceedings.

Larrikin held up a finger. "I'll be back in a jiffy, don't go away!"

With that he rushed out of the kitchen, picked the lock on Anton's room and rifled through his knitting bag before returning with a ball of Anton's wool. He pushed it into Raine's hands. "Show me what you're doing on the loose end."

Raine genuinely considered going away.

But learning was learning, no matter her embarrassment, and if the opportunity had been dropped in her lap she supposed it was irresponsible not to take advantage. So long as she could never bring up the fact of having had this conversation with anyone, ever again. Thus Raine was still in the kitchen when Larrikin returned, and she took the yarn from him with an expression of deep skepticism. "Is Anton going to be missing this later?"

Nevertheless, Raine stretched out a length of the wool and did as instructed, in simple, inelegant knots. "I already know I don't have the optimal skillset," she said, her tone dry. "This was not something I ever anticipated."

"I'll put it back," said Larrikin dismissively, waving his hand. Sans a few feet, but whatever. He held up a finger. "But it's important to know what you're doing in the interim. You took the wool without a thought, didn'tcha? Bad. Baaad." He shook his head sadly. "Material is just as important as the actual knots. What do you use usually?"

Since neither of them were tying the other up, the wool would do to show her how to actually tie the knots, but it also made a really good point for everything else.

"I spared it at least one thought," Raine said, not all that affronted. She sighed once more, eying Larrikin rather than the wool in her hands. "'Usually' is somewhat of an overstatement; we hadn't had much chance to explore before-- well. There was a magical accident, recently." Why was she discussing this with someone she'd only just met, again? "Previously, I had, ah, repurposed one of his ties, and I had meant to find something--" Raine broke off there, before she could audibly lose any more composure.

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cw: mild kinky talk

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