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

[gistful]

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.]

Comments

[larrikinism]

Larrikin wrapped his arms around himself in lieu of a hug, and even though Valdis didn't reach out he leaned unconsciously toward her as though wanting the comfort but not knowing how to ask for it from a stranger, now that he genuinely needed it.

"I don't want to die again," he said in a very small voice. "I want to stay here with Anton and learn everything about the century I missed, and put candles in Skulduggery's eye-holes, and go home so I can see Dexter and Erskine and Ghastly and everyone all over again. Two and a half centuries we fought that bloody war, and it's like the whole world's forgotten."

Even the sorcerers. He'd talked to Anton and Skulduggery. He knew about Serpine. How Serpine had escaped justice for a whole century, after everything he'd done.

[skeletonenigma]

That also explains why Krei has been spending so much time in the Hotel. It really is the safest place in Keeliai, and when you're worried about a very particular attack from a very particular person, you take all the possible precautions you can get your hands on.

Like the kedan who were injured, Skulduggery plans to keep an eye on them.

"Excellent," he says, an appropriate level of cheer back in his voice. "I'm glad I could help with the ring. Good luck on your future endeavours."

[redlightgreenlight]

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at the floor so she didn't have to look at his tear-stained face. She didn't know how he had died and as death was not permanent for her, she had no way of truly sympathizing. Even her near death at the hands of her own powers could not compare, because she had survived. "I wish I had some way of telling you that it will be alright."

[kreitech]

Krei's still wary about doing much of anything to piss off the guy who owns the Hotel that's keeping his ass safe, but after a moment or two he shrugs. "If you don't think he'll mind." Larrikin knows Anton better than he does, after all. And he's still doing this with the Hotel's best interests in mind. That has to count for something.

He takes one last look around the kitchen, trying to set things as right as he can (what with the oven and the burnt book and all) before he turns and motions Larrikin toward Anton's office.

"Such as?"

[pushtheboundaries]

"No, no, not at all- here, let me help you set up." Whether or not Tom's inclined to let him, Robert's already moving to assist with spreading it. "I've actually got my own apartment in Metal Sector- I came to get a look at things, really, and they're a bit...more than I thought they'd be."

He's never seen the hotel so full. He hadn't really thought about how many people had been here - perhaps if he had, he might have hesitated to direct Thomas here.

Still, it is the safest place to be...

[larrikinism]

All bouncy step and enthusiasm, walking backwards and guiding himself with the air, Larrikin went into the lobby. "Well, I remember this one time, right, so Anton and me were meant to meet the rest of the unit someplace and we're following their marks and then my darling intelligent idiot of a husband of mine left a written note. A note."

Larrikin threw up his hands all full of indignant and laughing exasperation. "It didn't occur to him that, oh, me'n'Anton both being men of the world and not nobles, neither of us knew how to read. So we went along to the original rendezvous point and it was a good thing we did, y'see, because old Mevvy-poo had managed a feint. The whole army had gone off someplace else and left a force of fifty guarding a route into Italy, and of course that's where Mevolent hit with his two hundred strong. Well, not him him, but bastard-ass Serpine--" He blew a raspberry, rubbing his chest. "--was in charge--scuse me!"

He chirruped the apology at someone he nearly tripped over. Anton wasn't nearby, so it was clear and free as far as Larrikin was concerned to produce a few pins and kneel by the office door.

"So there were our guys being utterly routed and in retreat through a valley," Larrikin went on, "when we show up. We split our forces and let Serpine's minions come at us, and then our line pulled back and Anton stepped forward, and--" Larrikin started to laugh. "--the front line flinched just shouting, 'SHUDDER! IT'S SHUDDER, WE'RE GOING TO DIE, FALL BACK YOU BLOODY INGRATES!' But the guys behind them didn't get the memo, so they're all tripping over each other and running into each other's swords, and before the rear can catch up to the change the rest of our guys pelted 'em from the ridges above, and the next thing, it was Serpine in a rout and not us."

He sighed as the lock clicked, and straightened to open the door with a flourish. "That was a good day," he said wistfully. "Anton didn't even need to use the gist, he just needed to be there to break their inflated morale. Against two hundred and we only lost about fifteen. I mean, sure, Hopeless taught us to read after that, but we were lucky. Lucky days like that are always good days."

[larrikinism]

"I do," said Anton, returning with two books in his hands. "I know it isn't death that offends you, Rover. It's the sacrifice ignored."

"Oh, goody, do I get to burn those too?" Larrikin asked with a sniff, rubbing at his cheeks.

"No." Anton showed them the covers. One was a dictionary, a recent edition, while the other looked to be a much older cultural reference book. "You recall, I hope, serving in the training fields in Australia."

"Course," Larrikin muttered. "Best place to do it. Too far for Mevolent to attack, lots of landscape to throw magic around without mortals seeing. And it was different there, to anywhere else, what with the wildlife and the land and how everyone banded together."

Anton nodded. "Look." He opened the dictionary to its bookmarked page and handed it to Larrikin, and then opened the reference book and showed them a highlighted paragraph on that bookmarked page too.

larrikin
Australian/NZ
1. A mischievous young person, an uncultivated, rowdy but good-hearted person
1.1 A person with apparent disregard for convention; a maverick

[...]

"The above instances exemplify Australia and New Zealand's youth as nations and defines them as set apart from the character of the rest of the world; soldiers and brothers on the battlefields of World War I in whom is imbued the qualities of endurance, courage, ingenuity, mateship and good humour, all characterised by the Australian word 'larrikinism'."

"Do you see?" Anton said quietly as Larrikin took the books and stared speechlessly down at them with wet eyes. "The dictionary is less than five years old from when I came from. You define a nation's character, spirit and history, Rover. You are what they want to be, over a century later. It's impossible for you to be forgotten, because your name exemplifies a legend which transcends magical and mortal cultures."

Sniffing, Larrikin hugged the books to his chest and murmured, "Poopy-head," and Anton only smiled. Then Larrikin added, "I still want a hug."

"Don't push it."

"Didn't say I want a hug from you, Mr Poopy-head Shudder."

[makesright]

"Oh you don't have to -- !" But the stranger's already assisting, and Tom can only offer a grateful nod. "Well, then. Thank you; It's been an exhausting day."

Once the bedding's spread and made, Tom adds, "From the sounds of it, nobody was expecting it to be at all like this. I came here on a tip, myself." He scanned the room once more. "I'd have liked a little more privacy, but... well. Beggars can't be choosers, after all." Almost literally - he technically is homeless here.

He leans back on his heels, stroking his beard in thought. "You say you live in the Metal Sector? I understand that's the more technologically advanced area -- what do you do there?" If he's stuck here, he'll need to start looking for a job himself. "I met a lovely AI earlier today who put in a good word for Stark Industries."

[larrikinism]

"It's stupid," Larrikin said vehemently but with all the delight of a man who found himself, unexpectedly, with an audience for a dearly loved soapbox. "I mean, yes, alright, in the later centuries we had a race bias too, but the gender one has been there longer." During Larrikin's youth, the 'race' bias had been more of a 'national' bias, which had been equally ridiculous but at least was bounded by country and territory rather than skin colour.

"Basically," he went on with a raised finger, "there was this thing going on where men thought that if a lady didn't get enough time between the sheets, her lady-bits would rise up and take her over and make her an unreasonable, shrieking banshee. That was called 'hysteria'. Any time a lady had a desire, it was 'hysteria' and obviously she was out of control! Stupidheads." He rolled his eyes. "By the time I--" Died. "--arrived there was more the view that ladies didn't have any physical desires at all and therefore she had nothing to actually know or understand about her own bits, which is equally stupid. If you're not human what are you?"

Though the last words were flung out, they were in pure vibrating curiosity rather than with any disdain or reserve.

[ruinsprofessor]

There was silence, briefly. "That is perhaps one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard," Raine said, quite flatly, evidently in full agreement with Larrikin's view on the matter. Stupidheads, indeed. Though she might not have used quite that phrasing. "In either respect. And one of my students once tried to tell me fire was earth's natural opposite."

Gender bias existed, certainly, one only had to look at Zelos to notice that, but it didn't sound like it was near the scale of the problem their world had. Fascinating, and a bit alarming. Perhaps it was Martel that made the difference? Magic certainly couldn't be the equalizer, with how few humans could even approach it.

That honest curiosity in the final question and Larrikin's previous opinions meant there was very little of Raine's usual hesitation when she answered. "I'm a half-elf," she said, quite simply.

[larrikinism]

"I know right?!" Larrikin threw up his hands. "It's like men didn't want women to understand anything about themselves! And then they go around using and then condemning women who do know things? Hypocritical sacks of balls. Women who know stuff are amazing. And talented. And usually a lot more palatable to be around."

Prostitution and the safe process thereof was a subject near and dear to Larrikin's heart for many, many reasons, but Raine's simple declaration both took the wind out of his indignation and made him perk up, and distracted him entirely.

"Ah, elves," he sighed happily. "I remember when I used to be called an elf. I remember when I thought I was an elf! The Vikings called sorcerers elves, see, cos we live so long. They thought we were envoys from the gods. Are you an envoy from the gods, Madam Lady Lover Healer Sage?" He grinned at her.

[pushtheboundaries]

"I remember my first," Robert notes sympathetically. "I must have passed out as soon as I hit the pillow- of course, it wasn't nearly as crowded, then." He casts a look around at all of those spread on the floor- he's never seen so many of them in one place. At least he had a room...

His attention drifts back to Tom, and he nods in confirmation. "Stark's not bad- I know a few others there- but right now I'm doing a bit more in the private sector. Odd jobs, doing repairs and upgrades to the systems here- they're all very basic, but I'm considering setting up some classes so that they don't have to rely so much on me." Sure, it'd technically put him 'out' of a job, but may also open a few more doors...

"My name's Robert, by the way. Robert Callaghan." And he offers out his hand.

[makesright]

"Sounds about right," Tom said with a heavy sigh, but there was still humor in his voice. "Even given the rushed accommodations, I doubt I'll have any trouble falling asleep tonight."

He stops to listen to the stranger talk, expression brightening at he heard more. Well, it seemed there was no end to the men of science Tom would be meeting today. The age and exhaustion fades from his expression, a spark of interest and intrigue quickly drowning it out. And then he mentioned teaching!

Tom himself had little interest in being a professor, as it often took time from his own projects, but he had endless respect for those who took the time to pass knowledge on -- especially if there was a profit to be made from hoarding the information; After all, he'd lose a chunk of his customer base -- even create competition! -- by passing along his skills.

He gazed at the stranger with a mix of wonder and respect, relieved to know there was someone who had both the heart and the privilege to put progress over profit. Perhaps his gaze lingered a little too long before he finally answered. "Private sector is certainly the way to do it, if you have the opportunity. I know I was happy to break away from military funding back home."

When the stranger offers his name and his hand, Tom wastes no time accepting the handshake with a firm, friendly grip. "Doctor Thomas Light."

He held the man's hand a moment longer, looking him in the eyes, smile broadening. Tom had a good feeling about him.

"You know, this might not be the best place to have a conversation. I believe the hotel is serving food to us -- er, the ones without those... gems, I think."

[pushtheboundaries]

"Oh, I've had enough of the military for my life, myself."

Robert's not completely selfless, but he's getting a bit weary of such simple work- the more they know, the more they can do, and the more they can push themselves to improve; the more they will, in turn, need him to assist.

And it's always nice to be needed.

It's also a pleasant feeling to be looked at in that way. When was the last time someone looked up to him like that?

"You look like you were getting for some sleep, anyway- I should let you be. I just came around to make sure everything in the kitchen was still working." And then something else hits him. "No gems- the soul crystals, you mean...?"

[redlightgreenlight]

So the man was some sort of hero, his name recorded for all of humanity as something to aspire to. It was truly interesting. Gods and Goddesses were not beings that humans aspired to be like. They were objects of worship, beings of immense power beyond human understanding, stories to explain why the world acted as it did. No one wanted to be Zeus, or Thor, or Ra. But Larrikin...he had people who wanted to be like him, or at least a person admired like he was. To be honest, she was somewhat jealous, no matter how much power she held, she would not command the same kind of respect that either Anton or Larrikin did. Her name would always be associated with death and chaos.

Larrikin's last comment brought her attention back to him. Her eyes widened. "You already got one, remember?" she replied taking a step back, "You do not get another."

[makesright]

"I'll be all right," he assures Robert. Hadn't he just been exhausted not two moments ago? That was then, this is now: Now there's a new burst of energy, excitement at talking to someone new about science and technology. He knows on some level that his body will hate him for it in the morning, but he's not concerned about it now.

"Yes! Those. Anyone without one can stay here for free, and I'm not sure, but I think we get the same deal for a meal, too." Which sounds wonderful. He hadn't eaten all day, and... well, he didn't get this gut from bad genetics.

He's already turned and scanning the room when he addresses Robert again. "So, Robert -- what's your specialty? Anything you concentrate on in science, or a little bit of everhthing?"

[larrikinism]

"I gave a hug," Larrikin whined. "Why do I always have to be the one giving hugs and everyone thinks that counts? You didn't give one back! You were positively flaccid."

Anton sighed and turned, but there was a smile hidden around his mouth. "I'm leaving. Larrikin, the next time you steal from my office I'm exiling you from my bed."

"I'd rather if you tied me to your bed," Larrikin called after him, and then grinned at Valdis. It was a watery grin, a wavering one, but truer than the edge and fragile ones from the last few days, and with his wet eyes it made him look especially young. He didn't loosen his grip on the books. "He loves me."

[kreitech]

It's not hard to simply tag along after Larrikin, letting the man talk as they move through the Hotel. He tells a good story, Alistair will give him that--although he blinks in surprise at the word husband. With the kind of serial flirt Larrikin is? (Or at least the kind Krei suspects he is--he doesn't have much proof other than his own experience.)

He's paying more attention to the story than the people around them, much like Larrikin, though he does take a second to make sure that whoever it was that Larrikin nearly bumped into is all right. Brush them off, send them on their way with a polite nod and a smile, all with an eye still on Larrikin. While the other man is picking the lock--and is apparently pretty good at it--Krei leans up against the wall next to the door looking nonchalant, hands in his pockets, one knee bent with his foot on the wall. He might as well play lookout, just in case.

As the story progresses, however, that look of nonchalance gradually fades, replaced by a look of surprise, and then disbelief.

"What on Earth does Anton do that would have scared that many people witless? I mean he's imposing, sure, but...."

And why, oh why, if Anton is so frightening... are they breaking into his office?

[redlightgreenlight]

As Anton left, Valdis glared at Larrikin, or at least tried to glare at him. He was so young and innocent and sad looking that she couldn't keep the glare on her face.

"Did you doubt that?" She asked, finally giving up and allowing her features to soften as he smiled at her. Love was an interesting thing, it never seemed to make sense.

[larrikinism]

Once upon a time, Larrikin did used to be a thief. Out of necessity, true, and usually in terms of pickpocketing, but Anton had long since learned how to prevent magic-use on locks, and that was a challenge which obviously made learning the mundane art vital.

The look he gave Krei was surprised as he went in and beckoned Krei to follow before he closed the door. "No one's told you about Anton's dog-on-a-leash? Well then!" Larrikin clapped his hands and beamed. "Siddown in one of Anton's really comfy chairs and I'll tell you all about it! Anton's magic takes the form of a gist, see, and a gist is basically all of its owner's anger and hate and bad thoughts made real. It goes schloop--" He motioned something appearing out of his chest. "--right outta his chest and then massacres anything he directs it at. Only, he can't keep it out too long or it'll take him over and then he'll be a tiny little voice inside the gist instead of the gist being a tiny little voice in him."

Larrikin looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I remember once--no, wait, there was this other time, we were in the middle of this battle, a few hundred strong on each side when suddenly they came out of nowhere on the flank and we didn't have the men to spare. The whole army would've been cut in two, you know, that really annoying pincer movement which sucks unless you use it yourself and then it's really satisfying? But Anton was on the flank and he shouts at us to keep our lines, and steps out and releases his gist and--there must've been a hundred of 'em coming at him, but inside ten seconds they weren't anything more than limbs and organs and bloody mud splattered everywhere."

Somewhere along the path of this dialogue, Larrikin's face had sobered. "That's what the gist does, you see," he said. "It's violence incarnate. It kills, and that's it. Anton tries not to use it, but when you're in a tight spot, surrounded and nothing left to lose, no one can get you out of it faster."

[ruinsprofessor]

"I suppose, without the more visible targets that half-elves make, gender would be the next most likely difference to fixate on." It was thoughtful agreement, though not entirely happy. "Humans-- people in general, really, do tend to fear and distance those who are different. It's not right, but with effort, can be helped."

She might have picked up the underlying implications of prostitution if given a few more seconds to think about it, but Larrikin's sheer enthusiasm over the matter of her race distracted her near instantly. "You're the friend Skulduggery was talking about," Raine said, quite suddenly. The answer to a mystery she hadn't exactly been seeking. It was nice to have resolved, nevertheless.

The rest required deliberation. First: was it reasonable to try to talk him out of the increasingly complex title? "Raine," she repeated, not entirely hopeful for the outcome. At least he meant well, was doing it for fun rather than flirting, and in that respect again the experience was much more positive than dealing with Zelos.

Second: envoy from the gods? Her first instinct was no, but the thought that followed right on the heels was the affinity for mana that her bloodline gave her, and Martel's close bond to the Tree... hm. "That depends on how you define gods," she said finally. "I wouldn't say so myself, but it's true I have abilities and understandings that most humans in my world can't hope to grasp."

[larrikinism]

"No," Larrikin admitted, rubbing his cheek against the tops of the books, not to wipe away the tears but more like a cat enjoying the sensation or marking territory. "Not since--"

Not since that time Larrikin thought Anton had left for good and had a panic attack, and then Anton came back and held him--held him!--until it ended.

Not since the first time Anton, face brittle and hands trembling, had told him to talk to drown out the gist.

Not since Anton had nursed him through pneumonia by telling stories about his own family, telling him his given name.

Not since every time Anton had saved Larrikin's life, humoured his puppet-shows and theatre acts, darned his socks and cobbled his shoes and braided his hair.

"No," Larrikin repeated, and sniffed, and released the books enough to wipe his eyes with one hand. "I just wish I could still be here for him. Not that I begrudge dying to save my wonderful darling husband, but it'd be nice if I could come back to possibly die for the rest of them too." That was the thing he'd regretted most, in the few seconds' worth of sane thought he'd had left before the Red Hand overwhelmed everything else. That he, like Hopeless, wouldn't be there to have their backs anymore. That he had to leave all of them behind, to save just one.

[larrikinism]

"Of course it was me he was talking about, did you doubt it?" Larrikin demanded, not knowing exactly what Raine was talking about and not really caring, either. It was just nice to know he'd been talked-about, as opposed to Anton, who could go a whole day without saying two words.

"Definitions." Larrikin waved a hand. "Actually existing would be a great start. Anyway, where were you up to? Handcuffs! Handcuffs are fun! Wanna learn how to make rope handcuffs? Too late, you're gonna!"

[ruinsprofessor]

"I didn't know of you at the time," Raine pointed out, reasonably. "Now, though, I wouldn't doubt it, no." Larrikin was a bright presence, practically guaranteed to leave an impression on anyone he met.

She agreed, certainly, that existing would be an excellent start. "There are beings in my world which are embodiments of the elements," she added, for clarity, "and some people might take them for gods, I suppose." A beat. "In any case, yes, I believe you promised that instruction as well." Raine was smiling properly by that point; his enthusiasm was infectious.

[larrikinism]

"So I did, so I did." Larrikin nodded sagely, holding out the wool. "Now, for this you'll need rope--a tie won't be long enough. First, have him hold out his arms like so." He held his arms up, elbows tucked in and forearms even. "Then you centre the rope over his arms and wrap them around like so ..."

The handcuff instructions weren't exactly complicated, but they did have a few steps. Larrikin used the chair-back as an example, weaving his 'handcuffs' horizontally around the chair-back's pommels. He finished with a flourishing wave and saying, "And there you go! Grab your own chair, give it a try."