[EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

[ironwood]

Characters: ALL!
Date: December 8, 2015 (with some starters for the following weeks)
Location: Keeliai, the Midnight Hotel, others
Situation: The Foreigners have awakened.
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

They've been in the Dreaming for so long that when they wake up their bodies feel more like automatons, alien and ill-fitting. They haven’t atrophied, thanks to Milyn, but they’re stiff and a little bedsore, and the solidity of the Life Plane is jarring. Here, the surroundings don’t move on a whim. Here the world is more stable, almost harsh and unyielding in spite of the homey surrounds.

It’s been a year, says the clock on the mantle and on the second floor. Says Milyn, too, when she’s able to stop hugging them long enough to speak.

Nothing much has changed in the Midnight Hotel. There are dishes out of place, objects belonging to either Milyn or Eva in evidence, the diorama exactly where it had been but now brightly-painted thanks to Milyn's boredom. Milyn and Eva took a room each, in the time the Foreigners were sleeping, though neither used them much.

Eva’s upstairs, Milyn will tell anyone who asks. In her room.

Eva hasn't left that room in three days. She hasn't spoken in three days, either, or walked, or moved, or breathed. Her effects are neatly arranged around her bed, and the sheet has been pulled up. There is heavy incense in the room and Milyn has managed to preserve the body enough to remove the risk of too much mess (and other things). In a way, that makes it worse: as though Eva is sleeping. It’s difficult to tell whether Milyn is in denial or whether spending three days with no one to talk to other than sleeping Foreigners and a corpse has had its influence.

---

LINKS
Dreaming log | Foreigner's Awakening (Hotel) | Milyn’s Relief | Exploring Keeliai | Old & New Faces (Canon Updates/New Arrivals) | OOC: State of the Shell

Comments

[peacefullywreathed]

"For one thing," Solomon said, "you have lovely hair." Though he preferred it shorter, for practical aesthetic reasons--Raine was a practical woman, and shorter hair as a practicality suited her better. Solomon spread some of it across the towel, gently teasing out the knots. It was a unique colour, too--not an aged sort of grey, but a purer white that was almost blue.

"For another thing," Solomon murmured against her head, close to her ear, "you have very skillful hands." He was close enough that she ought to be able to feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, and the air from his breath brush her skin.

[ruinsprofessor]

Even at a murmur she could feel the resonance of Solomon's voice. Raine had closed her eyes fully by now, relaxing against Solomon, but in retrospect that proved to be something of a tactical misstep, as it left her nothing to focus on but his touch, and the sound of him, and her breath caught again, not entirely steady.

It seemed every time she did relax he managed to catch her some variant of off-guard, even when she should have expected something, and it was the littlest things that unbalanced her most. Raine stared at the opposite wall, all her mind still on Solomon regardless, and hummed a quiet, pleased note. "Thank you," she said, and, a little dryly, added after, "I'll make a note of your observations."

[peacefullywreathed]

"I'm sure you will." Solomon smiled and kissed the tip of her pointed ear, and then stepped away, one hand lingering on her back so she didn't fall once her support was gone. He took back the towel, damp from her hair though it was; he had air-dried somewhat, but he still needed the towel.

He was still wearing that smile as he turned away to towel himself off, paying special care to the padded bracelets, and wring out his own hair, now slick with the damp but too long for his taste. "I wonder," he murmured, "whether Shudder has some scissors lying around."

There hadn't been any in the cabinet and there were unlikely to be any in the bedroom, so it was probably too much to ask. Solomon checked anyway, though his hopes went unanswered.

[ruinsprofessor]

Raine steadied herself, and brushed her fingers absently across the spot he'd kissed; that particular sensation was still relatively foreign. There was a warmth in her chest, easily identified as fondness, and she gazed after him for a moment before shaking herself. Still practicalities to attend to.

She twisted her hair up, off her neck, since it was long enough to mostly stay, and went to retrieve the robe Solomon had set aside, earlier. Without the foresight of bringing extra clothing -- a day or two she had expected, a year less so -- laundry was just as in order as a pair of scissors. "I suspect there's something suitable somewhere in the Hotel," Raine said, when it became clear Solomon was not finding that which he thought. "However, it may require outright asking Anton, as I doubt anyone was quite that prepared. I take it you're impatient to remedy the remainder of the year's worth of growth?"

[peacefullywreathed]

Solomon grumbled wordlessly at the idea of asking Shudder for further help, though as a practical matter there was really no choice. He abandoned the search and moved to his clothes to dress, not precisely lingering but not hurrying in his dressing so as to give Raine as much opportunity to watch him as he'd had to watch her.

"I am," he admitted, but since that wasn't an option quite yet he instead bound it in a tight plait--it was long enough for that, unfortunately. He glanced at Raine. "If you'd like to stay in the dressing-gown, I can take your clothes down to be washed and then return to keep you company."

He spoke innocently. Of course he did.

[ruinsprofessor]

In much the same way, Raine didn't study his form overtly, but nor did she actively try to pretend she wasn't observing. His words were prompting of a thoughtful look, more than the simple act of clothes washing should produce, and in a moment Raine did nod. She was more comfortable with the idea of letting him out of her sight now than she had been, anyway. "All right. I'd appreciate that."

She collected her clothes, pulled from her pockets a small pendant, a battered, leather-bound book, and a pearlescent, spiraling horn. Those set aside so she'd know where they were, she absently folded her clothes. "Thank you," she added, and in general meant it for more than just the matter at hand.

[peacefullywreathed]

"Whatever for?" Smiling, Solomon reached out to take the clothes, but he took her hand and his touch was lingering, just short of a caress, as he brought up one of her hands to kiss the back of it. This one, still in that range of 'in-between', the one that was neither platonic nor intimate, nevertheless was somewhat closer to intimate than the last time he'd taken her hand. It wasn't just where he kissed it; it was the way he held her gaze and lingered for a few split seconds longer than was strictly platonic.

Then Solomon straightened and he was innocence personified. "I'll return shortly." And he turned to leave, unless Raine happened to stop him.

[ruinsprofessor]

Raine did not dignify the question with an answer, both distracted and wondering exactly how something so small managed to derail her so badly. Even the first time Solomon had taken her hand, before she'd properly noticed how his smile could light up his face or how it bothered her more than average when he was injured, the gesture had completely bemused her. Now, significantly more conscious of both emotional connection and physical presence, all she could do was blink at him.

How did he do this to her. Damn his teasing ways, anyway. Raine watched him go, smiling faintly regardless, and resolved that she was going to have to find something that would similarly stop him in his tracks. Turnabout was fair play, after all.