[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

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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]

"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.

[redlightgreenlight]

His words hit a sore spot and she flinched. It wasn't that he had died to save Anton, nor was it the fact that he wanted to protect his friends, but the wording went against everything she had recently learned about friends.

"Dying for a friend when there is no other option is a noble cause," she replied, "But don't you dare believe that Anton or your other friends would accept you coming back only to die for them again."

She sighed. Larrikin didn't have a soul gem, so she could only assume that his stay couldn't be permanent and it seemed that the man's distress partially stemmed from the idea that he might not be around to protect those he cared about.

"Larrikin," she said softly, "Unlike you, I have more than one life to give up in defense of my friends. I promise that I will protect Anton with as many of those lives as I need. So, please, stop worrying about what will happen after you leave and just enjoy the time you have with him."

[larrikinism]

Larrikin looked at her with vague surprise at the ferocity in her tone, still rubbing one eye with the heel of his palm. "But that's why we worked," he tried to explain. "Not actually die, but possibly die. We got sent on suicide missions and we always came back. We were the only ones who could do it, because we were willing to die for each other. That's why they called us the Dead Men. You can't have your own back. It's hard to see your own back from your front. So we forgot about our backs because we knew the rest of the Dead Men would have them, and then we never died, see?"

Until one of them did.

Until Mevolent managed to separate them enough to take down Hopeless, who'd had all of their backs because he'd been too powerful a mind-reader to miss most of everything. Then Serpine managed to get Dexter in a tight spot they didn't have a mind-reader to see in time and Larrikin had been forced to actually do the 'dying' thing for real. Not fun.

But it was still why they'd won.

He finally managed to get his eyes cleared and then they welled up again. Whether Valdis wanted it or not, he put down the books and moved in to hug her, and this wasn't like the other hug. It was firm and almost gentle, almost ginger, a hug that gave rather than demanded comfort as so many of Larrikin's hugs did. A hug that was full of gratitude.

"Thank you," he whispered.

[redlightgreenlight]

The idea of Anton and others going on suicide missions was disturbing, but she didn't believe that Anton would go on any mission thinking that they wouldn't be successful. 'Suicide Mission' was merely a title granted by those who thought they might fail.

Having people you could always trust with your back was a nice feeling, even in the midst of fighting knowing that you could trust the people behind you, somehow made everything better.

"There's no need to thank me," she replied, gently hugging him back, "But you are welcome."

[larrikinism]

Larrikin pulled back grinned. "Got a hug from you," he stage whispered happily, and poked her nose. "Bop."

Then he stepped away with a spin and a kind of light-footed ease which spoke of man who was both acrobatic and used to having to step quickly away from any potential fists.

[redlightgreenlight]

He had indeed succeeded in getting a hug from her, but the poke was completely unnecessary. She glared at him, biting back a harsh reply, but she could think of nothing else to say, so she simply turned around and walked out of the room.