Anton Shudder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gistful) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2015-05-05 09:38 am
gistful) wrote in tushanshu_logs2015-05-05 09:38 am
[Midnight Hotel] May catch-all
Characters: Anyone, everyone.
Date: Month of May, ‘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, 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.
After the bustle of the last two weeks the Hotel seems oddly empty for a little while, with everything packed up and stored away. That feeling will be exacerbated by some of the Foreigner residents moving out over the course of the month, either to their own housing in Sky Sector or their own apartments elsewhere, and for the first time in quite a while the Hotel may have a few empty rooms.
It will, however, be full of flowers for a good part of May. Though originally provided by Xion in the public areas, Anton seems to be making sure every part of the Hotel, from public to private, has a bit of colour around unless specifically asked otherwise, such as for health reasons.
People may notice a bit of a glitch in the Hotel’s main doors. While ordinarily the exit sector can be chosen using sigils by the door, this month the pearl-white haze around its edges will putter every time someone changes it. Every now and then the glitch might cause someone to emerge in Sky Sector instead of their intended target—though the exit building will be different every time, as if the Hotel hasn’t quite decided yet where to settle its doors. Since it isn’t harmful Anton won’t bar people from using the switches, though he will recommend avoiding doing so; all this means is that the exit defaults into Central.
As a result, late at night when the doors aren’t being heavily used, Anton can be seen reviewing the wards around the entrance and trying to pin down exactly how the Hotel is, apparently, growing a new exit.
This month Anton will also be uncharacteristically emotional—though all this really means is that he alternates between being definably melancholic (prone to staring wistfully at sketches or a specific page in a dictionary) or unusually, and exasperatedly, entertained. The latter can be visibly attributed to the tablet newly propped up on the reception desk, displaying a picture of Anton, Skulduggery and that annoying bloke that was around last fortnight with his arms around their necks, pulling them down to his height. The tablet regularly announces times and tasks put into the tablet’s calendar for Anton’s convenience … and some of which aren’t to his convenience at all.
“Bing bing bing! This is your regular inspirational reminder of a delightfully important word: poop.”
“Boopity boop! Hey Anton, it’s two o’clock! You know what that means? That means it’s time to go be social. I know, it’s tough, be strong! You can do it!”
“Diddly do! Seven o’clock! Time to get laid!”
Though Anton will turn down these particular voiceovers so they at least don’t permeate the whole lobby, he still won't turn them off completely.
[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, JOB OR AREA IN THE GARAGE OR ARE MOVING OUT. Anton will manufacture means of payment until Foreigners are able to properly offer recompense or choose to move out.
Date: Month of May, ‘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, 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.
After the bustle of the last two weeks the Hotel seems oddly empty for a little while, with everything packed up and stored away. That feeling will be exacerbated by some of the Foreigner residents moving out over the course of the month, either to their own housing in Sky Sector or their own apartments elsewhere, and for the first time in quite a while the Hotel may have a few empty rooms.
It will, however, be full of flowers for a good part of May. Though originally provided by Xion in the public areas, Anton seems to be making sure every part of the Hotel, from public to private, has a bit of colour around unless specifically asked otherwise, such as for health reasons.
People may notice a bit of a glitch in the Hotel’s main doors. While ordinarily the exit sector can be chosen using sigils by the door, this month the pearl-white haze around its edges will putter every time someone changes it. Every now and then the glitch might cause someone to emerge in Sky Sector instead of their intended target—though the exit building will be different every time, as if the Hotel hasn’t quite decided yet where to settle its doors. Since it isn’t harmful Anton won’t bar people from using the switches, though he will recommend avoiding doing so; all this means is that the exit defaults into Central.
As a result, late at night when the doors aren’t being heavily used, Anton can be seen reviewing the wards around the entrance and trying to pin down exactly how the Hotel is, apparently, growing a new exit.
This month Anton will also be uncharacteristically emotional—though all this really means is that he alternates between being definably melancholic (prone to staring wistfully at sketches or a specific page in a dictionary) or unusually, and exasperatedly, entertained. The latter can be visibly attributed to the tablet newly propped up on the reception desk, displaying a picture of Anton, Skulduggery and that annoying bloke that was around last fortnight with his arms around their necks, pulling them down to his height. The tablet regularly announces times and tasks put into the tablet’s calendar for Anton’s convenience … and some of which aren’t to his convenience at all.
“Bing bing bing! This is your regular inspirational reminder of a delightfully important word: poop.”
“Boopity boop! Hey Anton, it’s two o’clock! You know what that means? That means it’s time to go be social. I know, it’s tough, be strong! You can do it!”
“Diddly do! Seven o’clock! Time to get laid!”
Though Anton will turn down these particular voiceovers so they at least don’t permeate the whole lobby, he still won't turn them off completely.
[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, JOB OR AREA IN THE GARAGE OR ARE MOVING OUT. Anton will manufacture means of payment until Foreigners are able to properly offer recompense or choose to move out.
Anton | A few days after arrival, mid-ish May [SPOILERS]
Ravel's body, however, was having none of this self-congratulating, back-patting bullshit.
Sleep came fitfully, when it deigned to grace him with its presence. He figured he'd been snatching maybe an hour or two a night and then dozing off during the day here and there, exhausted. Anton had been singing--singing, for Christ's sake--and it had helped with the panic in the dark, the sudden fear and the disorientation. It couldn't keep the nightmares away.
The pain came and went, chasing him like echoes. Warm baths helped and movement was slowly getting easier. He'd been walking without Anton at his elbow to steady him for the past day, although every so often when he was sure the other man wasn't looking he leaned up against the wall to steady himself. The pain still shivered through him at times despite all of this, regardless of the time of day or night, but he remembered enough of the time before, of Mevolent, to know that these phantom pains weren't going to stop overnight just because he wished them away really hard. They would stop eventually. It might just take a few years.
Food was the worst. He couldn't keep anything down except tea and broth (which had admittedly soothed his shredded throat) and even those were a bit dicey at times.
But he was growing restless. He was stable enough now at least to begin to chafe at being trapped in bed for so long, trapped within the same four walls. Trapped. And so he padded slowly toward the door and peeked out. Anton was likely busy running the Hotel. Maybe he'd just take a stroll around the common room today.
A very slow stroll.
no subject
On this occasion? He was trying to catch up. He had put music on in his room whenever he wasn't present, in the hope that would help Erskine sleep, but between Erskine waking him up by tossing and turning and trying to lullaby the man into slumber himself, to say nothing of having to clean the blood out of his own floor and make sure Erskine was at least trying to eat ...
Yeah, Anton was a little bit busier than usual these days. Especially since he was trying to stay close to his room, just in case.
Right now, he was finishing up some dusting around the lobby, using a long-handled featherduster to pick up some cobwebs with his back turned to his bedroom door.
no subject
And then something beeped nearby, and a voice filtered quietly through the lobby near the desk.
"Time to get laid!"
Ravel stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, staring at the desk with some mix of fascination and confusion. The voice was familiar--achingly so--but he couldn't place it right away and so it was the words themselves that took precedence. For the first time since his arrival an expression approaching wonder crossed his tired face.
"Anton," he called out, voice still rough but stronger than it had been. "Your desk is concerned about your sex life."
A pause.
"Quite frankly, so am I. It's going to be terribly awkward sleeping in there if you suddenly develop one."
no subject
"Larrikin," he said, coming back over to the desk to pull off the cobwebs with a damp rag. "Last month a significant group of people arrived here without soul-gems. They only stayed for two weeks before vanishing again. Larrikin was one of them. He felt the need to leave a lasting reminder on my new tablet."
no subject
Larrikin. No wonder the voice had seemed so familiar, despite the long years since he'd heard it last. Ravel moved over to the desk near Anton and picked up the tablet, cradling the computer carefully in both hands. Anton, Skulduggery, and Larrikin. Recent. Happy. How long had it been since the lot of them had taken a picture together?
"I'm sorry I missed him."
no subject
"He would have been too," Anton said simply, and touched the tablet's screen to scroll to the pictures and video gallery with an uncharacteristic ease which said just how often Anton had done so in the past few weeks. "He enjoyed technology." There were hundreds of pictures and dozens of videos in that gallery.
no subject
Ravel's eyes widened at the array of photos on the little computer. Larrikin, everywhere. Stupid faces, silly poses, cheesy grins. Erskine lifted a thumb, still careful to keep Anton's tablet safely gripped in both trembling hands, and flipped through a few of them. At least they'd had those two weeks together, and the memories stored in these pictures... small wonder Anton seemed so familiar with them.
He swallowed. "Anyone else in the city I might know?"
no subject
"No one important," Anton said with a shrug without moving from his place by Erskine's shoulder, if only so he could still see Larrikin's array of ridiculous pictures. "China Sorrows. Solomon Wreath." They were the only ones from their world, at least, and none from alternate version of the world like the Tony Starks had been--so Anton had heard.
no subject
It only occurred to him what he'd said after the words were already out of his mouth. Suddenly looking stricken, Ravel turned his attention back to the tablet, grateful for the reason to turn his face away. His eyes stung. Teasing didn't seem like such a great idea anymore.
"China's here?" he asked eventually, clearing his throat. "That must make Skulduggery happy. The two of them were thick as thieves last I saw them."
no subject
"I know," he said, very quietly, and then went on as if nothing had happened. "Not particularly. I have the impression China is from somewhere earlier than the two of you, but later than I. China certainly hasn't learned much in the way of humility." Of course, Skulduggery hadn't either.
no subject
China would complicate matters. Not that he had anything planned beyond re-learning to eat solid foods, of course, but China always managed to complicate matters by virtue of being China Sorrows. And Wreath... he felt sure he'd seen the man more recently, but for some reason the image of beating Wreath senseless with his own cane was the one that stuck out most vividly in Ravel's mind. Maybe because it'd been the most fun.
Ravel idly pressed play on one of the videos on the tablet and then froze, wondering what in the world had possessed him to do something so stupid.
Larrikin, making kissing faces and grinning at the camera. Being himself. An ache gripped Erskine's heart and he quickly pressed pause, all but threw the tablet back on the desktop--at least in spirit. In actuality he carefully sat the thing down, because even in a moment of grief he knew what it would do to Anton to lose or break the thing.
"Stop cleaning," he ordered, grabbing at Shudder's sleeve. "I need a cup of tea."
no subject
"Excuse me," he said, "cleaning is very important. Very important indeed, Prince Faerie, and I have a great deal of it to catch up on. I had thought even royalty such as yourself knew how to brew a cup of tea." He shook his head, and the disappointment was very nearly believable--only nearly because he didn't want to make Erskine think he was actually disappointed. "Prince Faerie, I do believe you're in need of some understanding of the dirtier tasks in life."
no subject
Only Anton... still wasn't moving.
Ravel frowned, pursing his lips. He hated that nickname, and suddenly Anton was using it practically every other sentence. He was up to something, and Anton Shudder was almost never up to something.
The dirtier tasks in life.
Erskine eyed Anton warily. "I'm not sure I like where this is going."
no subject
He turned, holding out his arm as though Erskine was a lady, though Anton had never really escorted ladies anywhere, unless one counted his younger blood sisters. The smile he gave Erskine then was small but undeniably wolfish. "People are moving out and I'm behind in everything. It's a good thing I have a summoned faerie to help me with my housework, now, isn't it?"
no subject
Erskine didn't balk at taking Shudder's arm--the Dead Men rarely had any shame at all, and certainly not for things like that. Besides, from a practical standpoint, he could use the arm to lean on if his legs decided to give out on him.
Except he knew that smile. That smile that so many of the other Dead Men had adopted over the years, that he could remember seeing on Larrikin, Dexter... hell, he'd probably used it himself. But if Shudder was using it....
The next word was practically a squeak. "Housework? You can't be serious."
no subject
Then he shrugged, and though there was a faint tremble in his hands it was easy to miss in the curl of his fingers. "Besides, you killed me. I think some housework is the least you can do in exchange."
no subject
No. They were not having that conversation now. Maybe ever, but certainly not now.
He fell quiet, looking for a moment as if he wanted nothing more than to collapse inward on himself. He knew he had no right to react as he did to the acknowledgement that he had killed Anton. If anyone had a right to react poorly it was Anton. The fact that the other man was actually saying it....
"I don't know the first thing about housework," he confessed finally, eyes rising to meet Anton's once more. "You're putting the well-being of your Hotel on the line, Shudder. I hope you know this."
no subject
Perhaps he shouldn't, but he did, and he didn't particularly want to not. It was a selfish aspect of forgiveness he very pointedly hadn't told either Erskine or Skulduggery--the fact that Anton needed someone to rely on to remain stable himself. He didn't tell them that because it was too easy a tool for them to go back to condemning themselves.
After all, if Shudder was only forgiving them to maintain his own sanity, it meant their actions were still as deplorable and unforgivable as they believed. Going down that rabbit hole was selfish all on its own. Anton refused to let them do it, let alone contribute to their doing so.
So with that little bombshell, wise or not, Anton left Erskine by the island counter and went to the wall to start putting together some tea. Even now, he remembered what Erskine liked. If those tastes had changed, he'd better sing out in a hurry. "Besides," he added over his shoulder without looking around, "I'll be here to teach you."
no subject
It was his opinion... that he could stand with his back to you and you wouldn't stick a knife in it. How wrong he was.
No, not that kind of trust. Housework. Anton trusted him to do housework. He'd have to be a fool to trust him with anything else. Anton wasn't a fool.
He trusts you enough to let you near him while he's sleeping.
Erskine slid onto the stool quietly, content enough to accept whatever Anton was preparing. It hadn't been his intention for Anton to have to do any of this but at the moment he was too stunned to do much of anything in the way of protest. For a moment he sat staring at his hands, folded on the countertop to keep the exhausted shake from showing. Then he unfolded his hands and one came up to rake through his hair. Then the other, and then he was folded against the countertop, head in his arms.
He had no intention of harming Anton, not again, but that didn't make Shudder any less of a fool.
When Anton spoke again he sat up, suddenly embarrassed, and re-folded his hands on the counter. "You're going to teach me to clean," he echoed, giving a short laugh. "You, my friend, truly have the patience of Job."
no subject
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe you haven't done it enough. You, Skulduggery, Saracen, even Larrikin to some degree--none of you ever had to really clean up your own messes. You all thought that admitting responsibility was enough. It isn't. You can't make a mess and admit you made it, and think that's all that there is to the aftermath. You need to be willing to pitch in and scrub away the dirt afterwards as well. And, so help me, you will learn that if it means I have you scrubbing toilets for years."
no subject
"Anton, you can't scrub away murder," he objected, voice low. "There's a reason they throw you in jail or execute you for it. It's not exactly a community service type offense."
Granted, the main reason they tended to toss you in jail for murder was to keep you from repeating your crime, which he had no intention of doing, but he felt the point stood anyway.
no subject
Even in Anton's time, though the Anglos were in control of towns and cities, the Pale and in Cork, in practice it was the Brehon Laws were ruled the country. Even many Norman landholders accepted that, allowed their villages to police themselves. The man who had owned Anton's village had been one such.
"You've probably heard of the Brehon Laws," he went on, "but you never experienced them. Under the brehons, there were fines and hard labour. No jailing. No execution. All those were things conquerors from across the sea brought into Ireland. Murder was the worst of offences, yes--but still a wergild offence. Payment from one family to another, even if that payment took the form of servitude for a period of time as determined by the brehon."
He looked at Erskine. "I still remember the days when Ireland's laws were almost just--when the focus was on reparation and rehabilitation, not mere punishment and prevention. Corrival remembered them too. So did Hopeless. So did Larrikin. Ghastly and Skulduggery, Dexter and Saracen--you. You're all too young. But I remember, and those are the laws I would prefer to honour."
The rules of the Hotel were modeled after them, in spirit if not exactly in word. They hadn't been perfect, by any means. The class system, while looser than most, could be easily abused. But in its nature and is spirit, Anton firmly believed that those laws were far more just than the vengeance-driven punishments of the more recent centuries.