tushanshu_logs | [Midnight Hotel] May catch-all

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[Midnight Hotel] May catch-all

Characters: Anyone, everyone.
Date: Month of MAY, 2016 (2017 in-game).
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: Mark your threads if content warnings become applicable, please!

The overtone in the Hotel this month is rather melancholy. Anton is back on full-time duty with his usual courtesy after the visitors have left, though he rarely smiles, unless looking at some particular pictures. There have been a few other notable changes.

For one thing, Anton will not wear his usual funeral-director’s suit this whole month. He will, in fact, wear colour. For the most part he wears a three-piece suit of understated purple, accompanied by various complementary shades in shirts and waistcoats. (It was a gift.) Occasionally he breaks out, grudgingly, a kedanese variant of a traditional three-piece suit, though admittedly still dark in tones.

For another thing, the tablet at the desk which habitually chimes with a perky voice is gone, but there are a multiple of photographs pinned to various places at reception (to say nothing of his private office). All of these photographs are of the same group of eight men—Anton included, as well as Erskine Ravel and Skulduggery Pleasant—in various states of handymanship, craftsmanship, and physical labour as they renovate a building (in various states of completion). None of the images are posed, and some of them have an air of wistful uncertainty, but others an air of unthinking camaraderie, where the laughter is free.

The third and possibly most noticeable change is that the resident janitorial cleaning faery, Erskine, has apparently moved out. It is for that reason that Anton is regularly not available in the late evenings, since someone has to check up on Erskine now he’s living on his own.

Other than that, the actual Hotel’s workings remain as normal. The restaurant begun in April is continuing with reasonable popularity, running a little more smoothly than it did in the beginning. There is slight tension in the kitchen, as some of the kedanese cooks work out the hierarchy, but it never reaches a point where Anton has to step in. Still, there are some jaundiced glares being thrown around the kitchen and dining hall.

Meanwhile, the sleeping-bags are packed up and stowed away, and the commons are returned to their usual states after having been appropriated for the giant slumber-party.

[ooc: The Midnight Hotel’s status page is available here, with the rules at the top. 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.]

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If anyone happened to be up early, Luke could be found in the hallways or the lobby, probably wearing more than what was strictly necessary. It was just that the cool weather always seemed to be more obvious in the mornings, and Luke had, as of barely over a month ago, become utterly disenchanted with cold and being cold.

Didn't mean he stopped getting up early, even if he didn't have to be; he was just much too used to it, both from the farm and being in the Alliance.

He might look particularly unhappy if he just came in from outside, too.

It was quite miraculous that Kylo had avoided running into this particular hotel guest for so long, but on this morning his luck seemed to have run out... or he was particularly lucky.

Either way he started as soon as he stepped into the lobby, on the way out. The familiar presence in the Force jolted through him like an electrical shock, awakening in him a strange mixture of old familiar comfort and newer hate that had poisoned it.

He had come to a halt in the middle of the lobby, impossibly to miss in his black robes, one hand not so subtly edging towards his lightsaber. His dark eyes were narrowed as he looked around, instinctively searching for a man the age Luke Skywalker should be.

Luke hadn't exactly missed the distant sense of cold that had permeated the hotel for a bit. Of course, at first he'd thought it was the climate and the temperature, but it didn't take more than a few hours to realise that was not it; that particular sensation of oppressive cold wasn't everywhere.

It didn't feel like Vader, either, which was, really, what had thrown Luke off to start with.

So, it must be someone else.

Someone else who had stopped in the middle of the lobby, Luke noted where he closed the door behind him, stomping his feet a little. He was clad in black, and Luke stared at him, feeling not the least bit surprised by that, for some reason.

But other than that, he was about as familiar as Galen had been when he'd first spoken to him; that was, not at all. The question was, Luke thought with a frown, hand near his holster but not touching it, what would he do?

He had, after all, been here for a bit now, Luke knew, so maybe it would be fine...

Kylo Ren had spent many, many hours picturing his reunion with Luke Skywalker.

He would track down the coward in whatever miserable hiding place he had found and duel him, he would show him what mastery he had achieved now that he was finally freed from the shackles of his inferior Jedi teachings and unleashed his full strength. Skywalker would both fear him and be struck by awe before he died, and most of all, he would be sorry.

This felt decidedly anti-climatic.

There wasn't even a thunderstorm.

It took all of what little self-control he possessed to gather his wits and follow the familiar presence to its source.

A young blond by the door, unassuming until Kylo caught sight of his face and a moment later a familiar holster... His gaze returned to the face.

His breath caught in his throat.

"Uncle Luke!" He had not permitted himself to think of his enemy as such in years, but this was not the face of the nemesis he had built up in his own mind. This was a face that took him back to days of sitting on his mother's lap watching old holos from their Rebel Alliance days, a boy in an orange flight suit who had taken out the most fearsome weapon of their age. Back in these days, that boy had been Ben Solo's hero.

The only reasons Luke didn't assume the sudden call was for anyone else was because one; the man was looking straight at him - staring, really - and two; there were practically no one else in the lobby at this moment.

Luke started, eyes growing wide at the implication of that yell (he was having some small trouble imagining Leia with a child, and grateful, once again, that he already knew Leia was his sister) and turned when he actually managed to do so.

"Er..." shaking his head slowly, Luke dropped his hand to his side, "I... suppose?" Rubbing his face before he looked the other over again, Luke sighed, felt his mouth twitch into a wry smile.

"Didn't think I'd be on this side of the equation any time soon." It'd been strange enough to deal with it when it was his parents and Ben, now this. And he was still all too aware of the sense of the man in the Force, like a cold light.

He was younger than him. It's something Ren's mind had gotten stuck on and wouldn't unstick from, no matter how much he felt like he should be getting to the defending his life from a vengeful Jedi now, because surely Skywalker was going to take bloody revenge for the loss of...

...things which hadn't happened yet. Wouldn't happen for decades yet.

Which he didn't seem to know of.

Kylo Ren took a small step back from the man who would be his uncle one day. His eyes flickered around, subconsciously searching for the escape route he would not permit himself to yearn for. He didn't know. He'd started to take for granted that everyone here knew who he was, but Luke Skywalker didn't even seem to know his face, let alone his deeds.

"You're younger than I remember you," he choked out. He forced his shaking hand away from his weapon, dangling it loosely at his side. He couldn't kill him until he knew. If he would. Did he have to? No. No. Of course he had to. He wanted to. It couldn't be a repeat of making it worse as he did when killed Han Solo. He wouldn't permit it.

If he could just get his hands to stop trembling.

"I know the feeling." Though whether that was agreement, commiseration or just a comment, even Luke wasn't sure. Because while he'd been startled (very much so) at the appearance of his mother, and been worried how it'd go with his father, both nearly as young as he was, his... nephew... seemed a bit more affected.

"Are you all right?" Frowning, Luke decided to remain where he was, even if his reaction was a bit... worrying. But the dark side was a warning, and if something happened... well, he didn't have a lightsaber, while the other definitely had one, even if the design was pretty novel.

Novel was an okay term to use, he could live with novel, let's just not speak of it looking like... Well, exactly like what a Solo would consider safe and sane engineering.

If he had it more together, or if the memories of killing his father weren't so fresh on his mind, Kylo might have been lighting up that novel saber of his already.

Yet all he could manage was a strangled laugh, and a bark of, "am I alright? You're asking me if I'm alright? I..." Deep breath. Deep breaths, Kylo. There was only one chance for a first impression. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, though the darkness brought no reprieve. "I haven't seen you in years. You vanished." His lips twisted into something more sneer than smile. "I've searched the galaxy for you and here you are, asking me if I'm alright."

Straightening up, Luke crossed his arms over his chest. While he was wondering what he supposedly had done - aside from disappear for some reason - to get this reaction, he frowned.

"I'm sorry," it was said, probably surprisingly, honestly, "but I'd like to point out I haven't done any of that. Yet, anyway."

And hearing the tone in the man's voice, Luke was getting the idea that whatever he'd been looking for him for, it wasn't necessarily pleasant, or material for a good family reunion.

Briefly, Luke's glance dropped down to the lightsaber, and then back up.

Kylo noticed where Skywalker's eyes went, and cursed under his breath. He clearly sensed that he was Dark, it was the only explanation why he was so wary, though he seemed to be clueless of his actual crimes. Unless he knew and was toying with him, but Luke had never struck him as the kind of person who would play mind games. That was really more Kylo's forte.

He lifted his hands up into the air, though the reassuring smile he aimed for remained out of his grasp. The sneer would have to do. "As you can see, I'm not actively trying to kill you." Look. Truth. Honestly, Kylo felt rather proud of his choice of words.

"And I know you haven't yet. But you will. As far as I'm concerned, we have thirty years of history... though you're younger than in my first memories. Going by your surprise, I take it I'm not even born yet."

"Right now you aren't," Luke agreed dryly, though he felt less flippant about it than the response implied. On the other hand, he'd had people trying to kill him for three years now, so it wasn't that different.

He wasn't sure he wanted to ask more and know what he was so angry about, or if he'd rather not know... It wasn't like knowing would change anything, since for him it hadn't happened, and for this man, it already had.

"Thirty years..." frowning, Luke looked off for a moment. That was, literally, longer than he'd been alive as of now. Then he snorted. "While I could make an educated guess who Leia might have gotten involved with, if it's right they're not at that point yet, so no, you aren't."

And then he had to close his eyes and swallow, because if it was Han, he wouldn't be doing anything with anyone until they could save him... and who knew when that would be, even if they knew that logically, sooner or later Han would end up in Jabba's hands.

The problem wasn't if or when Han ended up there, it was getting him out from there.

"An educated guess," he snorted, "well then, make yours. It's not that hard."

Like striking him down shouldn't be that hard. Here Luke Skywalker stood before him, young and clueless to the true destruction Kylo was capable of, not even holding a lightsaber, and Kylo had yet to strike him down.

Had yet to truly want to strike him down, beyond that moment that was more habit than true want. There was all that anger bubbling within him, but it could find no true target. There was no light of understanding in this boy's eyes. When he died at his hands there would be no comprehension of the many ways in which he had failed Ben Solo, not even horror at the man he had become.

How could this ever give him closure?

"Ben Solo." The name felt wrong in his mouth. In his mind, it echoed in his father's voice. He wanted to cringe away, but he took a step towards Luke, and grimly hoped he would be the one to back off. "I was born as Ben Solo."

Well, that answered that.

Luke stared quietly for a moment, feeling rather pleased Leia and Han apparently did stick together - all he knew so far from Leia retelling their month-long trip from Hoth to Bespin was that they'd kissed, but they could've gone further... and he really didn't want to know, he decided.

He was also starkly aware of... Ben's phrasing, and didn't move away when he took a step closer. Not yet, anyway.

"I can see it," Luke said, head tilted. And he could, now that he knew what he was looking for; there was evidence of both Leia and Han in Ben's face. "I guess that's not what you use now, though, is it."

He had no idea what to think of this, or what to do with it, all of it. He hadn't really, or maybe only barely, since being here had given him some time at least, dealt with who his father was...

A scowl flickered up again when Luke refused to back down, he of course seeing it as a gesture of defiance rather than trust. He forced down the anger for the sake of this tentative not-quite-truce. Calm before the storm, more like it.

This encounter could still only end in one way. He had worked too long and hard towards this goal to falter now.

"No, I don't. I go by Kylo Ren now." He pressed his lips tightly together, growled. His hands curled into fists, though he didn't reach for his lightsaber. "I shouldn't have to tell you this! You knew! You were there! And now you are just..."

It wasn't enough. This was nothing like what he had hoped for and dreaded in equal measure all these years.

"You look more like the uncle I remember from my earliest memories," he whispered.

Left staring silently again for a few moments after Ben... Kylo? had whispered those last few words, Luke shook his head slowly, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm twenty two, so by all accounts I guess that's what I am. Just because this has somehow happened for you doesn't mean I'm automatically going to know it the moment we started talking. But I know the feeling."

Well, he doubted it was the exact same thing, but still.

"Ben... ah, Obi-Wan was here before, and he was younger than I knew him, and there was a few things I would've wanted to be upset at him for, but... they haven't happened for him, so how can I blame him for things he hasn't done yet?"

Luke shrugged, but kept a steady gaze on his... nephew. Considering all he'd said so far, Luke wasn't sure how he'd take being told something like that, as advice, commiseration or chastisement. Who knew how he'd interpret it?

Twenty two. Kylo wanted to uncharitably sneer that this made Luke a child, but mocking him for his age would only drive home how wrong it was that he should be older than the man who had taught him.

He sneered at Luke's attempt to reason with him, his dark eyes hardened again. "Maybe you can't blame him, but I have no problem blaming you, Uncle."

And so he should get it over with, for the Dark Side he now wished to strengthen within him, or for that bitterness deep down that still blamed Luke and his parents for him ever going down that path at all.

But he looked like his uncle, the one he had adored as a little boy, and killing Han Solo had only made it worse. What would it feel like if he killed yet more of himself? Would there be anything left?

"It has happened for me. I have lived this life." He narrowed his eyes at Luke. "And I don't move on easily."

Great.

Luke swallowed his groan but it came out as a snort instead. But there wasn't much he could do about that; he doubted there was anything Ben... Kylo actually would want him to do that he would agree to do to make up for... whatever it was the man felt he'd done.

Tilting his head, Luke frowned.

"Maybe we should just try to avoid each other, then? You can pretend I'm not here." Not the most elegant solution, especially as they currently lived in the same building, but Luke wasn't sure what else to suggest.

It wasn't like he was going to (or wanted to) fight him, if that was what he wanted.

"Do you think you can just leave your sins behind and move on?!" Ren snapped, bristling like the proverbial wet cat.

And yet as long as he found himself so oddly reluctant to kill him, what else could they do? He certainly had nothing better.

But it felt wrong to just co-exist with this man against whom he held so much bitterness, who he had hunted for so long. So wrong. So disappointing. Just like killing this young man instead of the guilty one would be.

"You are nothing to me," he ground out between clenched teeth, turning slightly away from him. His hands were balled into fists so tight they ached. "You're not family."

Luke closed his eyes for a moment, stifling a groan.

"I can't exactly move on from something that hasn't happened yet, can I? It's not me you want anything from anyway," Luke said slowly, and wasn't sure whether he was disappointed or not at that rather accusing proclamation.

It was a bit confusing to deal with. Maybe it'd be slightly easier if there also wasn't the question of the dark side to deal with. Luke was starting to refuse to believe (had considered even before he ended up here, but it'd been to soon to think too much about it) that was some sort of instant proof of someone being irredeemable, but it undoubtedly affected the user.

And he wasn't exactly willing to be saddled with 'sins' (real or imagined) he hadn't even committed yet.

"If that's what you want," he said quietly with a shake of his head.

Kylo Ren stiffened, that little part of him that he called the Light within him wounded despite his best efforts to remain unaffected. Luke wasn't supposed to... just agree. Yes, he had wanted this, but it hurt anyway, this reminder that the young man in front of him had no attachment to him.

He had both wanted and dreaded their confrontation, but in all these years he had never considered the possibility that Luke Skywalker might be indifferent to him.

"It would be better," he said. "I have cut all ties to the Solos. You are nothing to me now." They should have been. But if they were he would have struck down Padmé Amidala the first time she defied him. If they were nothing to him, he wouldn't keep dreaming of Starkiller.

Kylo squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach was roiling. "To spare you now is to let weakness fester."

"I could be," he said, and meant it, even if he was now weighing on his feet and more ready than before to either leave quickly (the door was right behind him) or draw his blaster (but he knew Anton didn't abide fighting inside, so either way leaving should be his first priority so no one got hurt).

Eyeing Kylo, Luke decided not to say anything about how proclaiming he was nothing sort of implied the opposite, and just shook his head instead.

"I'm pretty sure what we do here won't affect things as they are at home, since in that case something should probably already have happened to me since my parents are here," pausing, he shifted on his feet, "which means you'd get even less by fighting me, and I don't want to fight you."

For several reasons.

"For you it might make no differences, but it does for me." For him it would be admitting to a personal defeat, and his inability to do what needed to be done. At least he had done it with Solo, even if it had turned out a terrible idea and had done nothing but destroy him more. But he had been able to go through with it, for all that was worth.

His entire body was taut with tension, close to trembling with it. Once again he turned away from Luke, not wishing to look at him any longer, yet at the same time he didn't dare turn his back on him. So he just ended up standing oddly twisted, caught in indecision even in this.

"You will be nothing, and I..." He swallowed hard. "You will be nothing. It will be as if you don't exist."

That was not the body language or the determination of someone who was utterly sure in what they wanted, or wanted to do. Luke stared quietly for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say, but he was a little wary of saying anything that might push Kylo either way, considering he didn't have anything useful to defend himself with.

"All right," Luke shook his head as he finally spoke, frowning, "but you know, if you have to struggle that much with a decision, you might want to reconsider why you're doing it at all."

Or not do it. Luke had come pretty far not not doing what he was 'supposed to' - even if he also felt a hot burst of guilt over not wanting to kill Vader, considering all he'd done. But he... couldn't.

Giving Kylo... Ben... one last look, Luke took a breath and walked past him - he'd been on his way in and he still needed to go there, but he was very aware of the taller man as he passed him.

He couldn't resist a last, quick look though, as much to be aware of if he'd moved, as wanting another look. He really did look like both Han and Leia.

Kylo Ren was just as aware of his uncle's proximity, and equally aware of how easy it would be to snatch his lightsaber and cut him in two. It wasn't too late. He could still do it, and maybe it would be easy.

Maybe it would be enough where Han Solo hadn't been.

He had to. He should. He... couldn't. He couldn't go through losing his father all over again.

Kylo kept his hands curled into fists at his sides, forcing himself to take deep steadying breaths until Luke had passed him.

"Go!" he barked. "Go, or I'll..." He didn't know what he would do, but right now he didn't wish to find out either.

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[Midnight Hotel] May catch-all

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