tushanshu_logs | [Midnight Hotel] October catch-all

Entry tags:

[Midnight Hotel] October catch-all

Characters: Anyone, everyone.
Date: Month of October, 2015 (2016 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 Hotel clears out this month – what with the weather cooling down, many of the patrons who had been finding respite from the heat no longer need to do so. Windows are kept open and linens are aired. The result is that the Hotel seems roomier and far less bustling, and it’s an opportunity to relax for the staff. Mostly. Somewhat.

Though there are fewer patrons this month than before, there are a number of gang-kedan holding little workshops for the building of spirit houses or little planterboxes. These are primarily for impoverished kedan who can’t afford their own materials (which are provided), but anyone is willing to help out or ask for advice, and donations are welcome! The most notable thing about these little workshops is that they are, quite frequently, being run by kedan from different or even rivalling gangs, working together.

The spider infestation has tapered off, but there’s some new signs in the kitchen stating that the only free ingredients provided by the Hotel are on two very specific shelves in the cupboard and in one of the fridges. (Not including the food cooked by Yuri, or pre-cooked into packages by Anton.) There’s also a sign asking anyone who sees Klaus and Raine in the kitchen together to please alert the Hotel staff, as this will result in a health hazard.

There’s also a very loud and obvious newcomer to the Hotel – someone some might recognise from the network. Rue is loud, brash and always appears in old-style frock-coat, breeches and heels, all brightly coloured and perfectly representing a period-era dandy. He’s also got a taste for massive wide-brimmed hats and facial rouge, and is mostly obvious due to his English accent and outrageous flirting, and the fact he apparently knows Anton. Fortunately, he doesn't spend a significant amount of time around the Hotel, and frequently goes out on the town to explore (and flirt).

[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.]

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Milyn's advice had escaped her mind until the departure of the Chihuelans, but Valdis knew that she had to tell Anton that she had discovered. Dardul hadn't been particularly helpful himself, but he could still prove useful. That was beside the point though, Anton had a right to know who had poisoned him and perhaps he could aid her in deciding what to do next. She stored her weapons in her room before returning to the lobby, waiting for Anton to have a spare moment to talk.

There were more people checking out than checking in, though given the last couple of months that was something of a relief. Certainly the Hotel had done well in terms of finances in the recent past, even taking into account the temporary hire of some of the kedan Anton knew and trusted most.

He saw Valdis coming and nodded to her, but didn't engage until he had patiently checked out the rest of the kedan waiting to be served. Only then did he put down his pen and motion for one of his helpers to take over, massaging his hand absently as he went to where Valdis waited. "Lady Valdis. How may I help you?

She waited in silence, making sure to stay out of the way of the kedan who were leaving and only moving when Anton began to make his way over to her. He had seemed better over time, and she knew she hadn't been paying as much attention to him as she wished she had been. Worry passed through her eyes as she noted the movement of his hands. She hadn't noticed them trembling like they had after the poisoning, but it was possible that some weakness still remained.

She looked away from his hands when he addressed her, meeting his eyes, and deciding to get right to the point, "I found the person who poisoned you."

Occasionally, yes. Usually in the mornings, after he'd rested; he was more prone to the shakes when there was a lack of activity. Using his hands made them subside more often than not. The numbness was more persistent.

But all that was secondary in his head, and had been for some time. Until now. Although Anton had known Valdis had been searching, he still somehow hadn't expected this. "I see," he said after a moment. "What happened?"

She wasn't reacting with guilt, so he didn't think she'd done anything to them. But she seemed hesitant nevertheless.

"Skulduggery and I spoke to him...he's...mentally challenged," she replied slowly, "Short term memory loss, a stutter. He's essentially the perfect target for manipulation."

She would know a thing or two about that sort of thing, "Even so, it would have had to be someone he either trusted." Like Milyn, except Valdis still had a hard time believing that. "Or someone he feared."

"I see," Anton said again, but softly. They weren't the same symptoms Mor had shown, but still ... Anton wasn't inclined toward harming those who were so unfortunate. And he didn't like people taking advantage of such people. "Is he well, then?"

Anton wasn't too concerned with finding the culprit for his own sake. He had been collateral damage. For Jintou, and for the safety of those manipulated, yes; but not at the expense of the safety of those around them.

"For now," she replied, feeling slightly concerned, "I am worried that whoever used him might do it again and next time he might not be so lucky."

She was also half-hoping that whoever had used the poor guy would try again, and that she could catch them if they did so, but using someone like that as bait felt wrong. Was wrong. She shouldn't do it, but she was quite tempted.

"Hm." Anton gazed toward the door, not really seeing but thinking. "It is possible," he said finally. "A good tool should not be easily discarded. On the other hand, a secret tool, once known, is often less useful. A ruthless master would remove the threat."

Truthfully, it was very likely this 'informant' was already marked for removal ... unless his condition was already the safeguard preventing him from being useful to anyone searching for culprits.

He looked back at Valdis. "Will you be keeping an eye on him?"

"I had hoped that he would forget that Skulduggery and I had even been there," she said, echoing his sentiments, "But Skulduggery gave him a note telling him to come here and ask for us should he be contacted again..."

She had disagreed with that decision, better for Dardul and them if the kedan had forgotten their visit. But if Anton was correct, and Dardul was already marked, or someone else saw them, then he wasn't safe.

"I didn't think there was an immediate danger," she admitted. "And then with the Chihuelans...that's why I didn't tell you sooner...If they are that ruthless and think he's compromised, he might already be dead."

But Milyn would have told her, right?

"It may be worth following up again," said Anton. "If not yourself, then one of the gang-members at the Hotel could know him. If you give me his address I can choose someone who has a reason to be in the area." It would be less noticeable, that way. Some of the gangs did volunteer work in their local sectors.

If Dardul was under suspicion of being compromised, then it might be best if she wasn't spotted anywhere near the area. She hoped he wasn't dead, but she also had to know if he was.

"It might be best if someone else went," she said finally, "I don't want them to think that he's a threat."

She picked up a pen, grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote down the address, before looking back up at him, "Just, let me know what they find..."

"I will," Anton said, taking the sheet and examining the address before crumbling it to put in the fire later. He looked up at Valdis. "If you wish, I can have the person I choose report to you directly."

It was Valdis's quest, after all. Anton appreciated being told, but he had no reason or desire to approach this informant himself.

"Yes," she replied, watching him memorize the address and then crumple the paper. "I would appreciate that."

It would keep Dardul safer if no foreigners were seen interacting with him and she'd rather the information come to her before anyone else.

"Thank you."

"Of course." There were a few people Anton could think of already who may be able to do the task with a minimum of notice. He rose and pressed a gentle hand against her head, stroking her hair. "Thank you, a leanbh. I didn't expect you to pursue this so far."

There were very few left that she truly cared for and she wasn't going to let anyone hurt those who remained. She was nothing if not stubborn. She smiled softly, "Hounds are nothing if not loyal, perhaps to a fault."

"I've noticed." Anton smiled down at her, and ruffled her hair gently--not enough to mess it up to a point where it would be unfixable. "Just be careful not to forget yourself." He dropped his hand. "Is there anything else you require?"

She nodded, "I won't and no, nothing else."

She could care for herself and others just fine, it was simply that she was more used to caring for herself over others that made it difficult to do both at once.

"Take care," she said as she turned to leave."

It was entirely possible that they could have done this over the handsets. Erskine's question was simple enough, and he could have even asked Anton in person. Called Skulduggery. End of story.

Only... the three of them hadn't managed to be in a room together, alone, since just after the Vile incident. Just after he and Skulduggery had fought and Skulduggery had shot him. And before that? Erskine's arrival, maybe. He couldn't remember. The point was, they were the only three Dead Men in Keeliai--Rue notwithstanding. Anton at least was still acting as if Ravel counted as a Dead Man, and Skulduggery hadn't been quite as murderous around him as before. If nothing else, maybe they should meet up and try to get on the same page.

Even if that page wasn't much of a page at all, these days.

Anton's office had seemed like the best place for this kind of thing, given the level of privacy it afforded, so Erskine sat back in one of the chairs with his hands wrapped around a thermos of coffee. Waited for the other two to get settled.

When Anton had gotten the call he had debated, at first, making a muchness of it. It wasn't characteristic of him to do so, which was entirely why on this occasion he did. Calmly he cut the cake he had on the tray, setting three pieces on three plates and sharing them out--including one, with an air of innocent pointedness, to Skulduggery.

There were tea too. He poured for three and shared them out despite the fact that Erskine was nursing a large thermos already, and took his own seat with tea and cake and no indication he'd done anything untoward whatsoever.

"I hope this isn't a call to maturity," Anton observed. "I may go senile from the shock of the suggestion coming from either of you."

It was strange how, by that point, Skulduggery had been alone with Ravel more often than with Anton. That was completely the fault of the chain and shackles, yes, but the point still stood. When he entered the office and found both Anton and Ravel already there, he wondered for a moment whether he'd walked into the wrong room.

But of course he hadn't.

Skulduggery took the cake - after a moment of still disbelief, it had to be said - and then, just as pointedly as Anton's innocence, took the cake over to the desk against the wall and left it there by the finance books. Then he walked back over and sat down.

The tea he left where it was. Tea had done much less to offend him lately.

"I need to make the suggestion more often, then," he murmured.

Erskine eyed the cake and the tea, though not with quite so much suspicion as Skulduggery. After a moment or two of deliberation he sat his thermos aside and picked up the tea Anton had poured, simply because it would be a shame to waste a good cup (and because the thermos would keep his coffee warm in the meantime). The cake was delicious, and not nearly as offensive as Skulduggery seemed to think either, although Erskine had never claimed much of a sweet tooth and worked through the piece slowly.

"What, to make Anton senile?" he asked blithely, without looking up from where he was poking at his cake with his fork. "And then you'll be stuck with a senile gist-user and me. Cheers."

Alright, so they needed to start this thing before someone snapped. Or maybe they just needed to snap and get it over with. He wasn't really sure which would be more constructive at this point.

"I want to tell Valdis about Rue." Erskine looked up from his cake to gaze at each of them in turn, without moving his head, to judge their reactions.

"The saying is 'misery loves company', I believe," Anton observed, watching Skulduggery abandon the cake while sipping his own tea. "Not 'insanity loves company', which I've heard is the opposite."

Then he fell silent, not because he was precisely stunned by Erskine's suggestion but because it was coming from Erskine. How often had the Dead Men discussed changing long-term policies? Almost never. In retrospect, that might have been a mistake; so many terrible secrets might have come out sooner, if they had.

This one wasn't a terrible secret--just a customary one. Rue had always been a secret. One of the few secrets the Dead Men had held collectively, apparently, so Anton was fairly sure that was the reason behind his immediate refusal.

Then he actually thought about it. Valdis would delight in the secret. She'd appreciate the prank. There was no reason to keep that particular secret here, and the last thing Anton wanted was to re-encourage either Erskine or Skulduggery back toward secret-keeping. So after a minute of thought, by which time his cup was half-empty, he said, "I've no objections. Is there a particular reason why?"

In contrast to Anton, Skulduggery was completely silent. He was half-surprised he was being included at all, if he was being perfectly honest, given what Erskine had found out about him just a few short months ago. But even after the flash of surprise faded, Skulduggery still had mixed feelings, and he couldn't immediately parse what any of those feelings were.

He got up, walked over to where he'd left the slice of cake near the finance books, and brought it back over to his seat. It was something to do, however small and irrelevant. He then took one glove off and carefully picked the slice apart with his bare skeletal fingers, waiting for the answer to Anton's question.

For a moment Erskine was caught up in watching Skulduggery's odd little movements, moving the cake and then fetching it back again. The skeleton almost had him mesmerized it would seem, though whether out of the sheer oddity of his actions or due to Ravel's own unique state of mind was anyone's guess.

After that moment, however, he shook his head as if to clear it and turned back to Anton.

"The alibi," he replied. "We don't have enough of us here to keep up the misdirection like we did. There's too few Foreigners and we're all too close. And we're not dealing with the whole of Europe here, we're dealing with one city on the back of a turtle. I'm either going to have to shelve Rue for a while or I'm going to need a serious alibi to use him. Valdis can do that."

He paused. "Plus she's a friend, and I think she'd get a kick out of it."

It was a good reason. A reason which indicated Erskine had thought it over. A reason which didn't change Anton's lack of objections. "I still have no objections," he reiterated, and glanced toward Skulduggery, watching him deconstruction the cake crumb by crumb. "Skulduggery? You're spectacularly silent."

"Spectacularly?" Skulduggery repeated. He didn't stop picking through the cake slice, moving large crumbs to the outer edge of the plate and leaving the rest in a crumbling pile in the center. "I didn't realise I could be so impressive without saying a word."

Which was, of course, a bold-faced lie. Skulduggery was always aware of how impressive he was.

He stood up, put the cake back down on the table, and moved a few steps backwards toward the door, leaving his tea untouched. "If Saracen ever gets here," he told Erskine, "you're the one in charge of explaining who knows about him and who doesn't."

Once upon a time an awkward conversation like this, between brothers, would have made Erskine's heart lurch. Not now. Not with so much bad blood between them. In fact, Erskine was pretty sure this was going better than he'd actually hoped. No one was yelling or shooting or trying to kill anyone else.

That was what made his heart lurch this time. The knowledge that this kind of conversation was the best he could have hoped for.

"I'll also have to explain why he's regressed to an English poof," he replied with a shrug. "If he's not trying to kill me. I'm not getting my hopes up."

"Liar," said Anton at Skulduggery, and he got up and started clearing Skulduggery's cake, picking up his tea to move it closer to Anton's own chair. "Saracen has always been an English poof," he observed, taking a sip of Skulduggery's tea. "He just hides it better these days. Come back anytime, Skulduggery."

For Anton's part, he was hopeful. The bad blood had felt thinner, this conversation; less awkward, more a return to the discussion of process. It wasn't a complete return, by any means--but it was a start.

It's early one evening that Yuri returns to the Hotel with apparently a new pet. The young man walking into the lobby, followed by a dog wearing armor.

Lambert is quiet and well behaved, simply following along at Yuri's heels as the two pass through the lobby, not bothering anyone and minding their own business. Yuri doesn't think much about bringing the animal into the hotel. After all, Era had been inside and nobody seemed to have a problem with him. But if he happens to catch Anton he does plan to inform him of the matter.

Whatever Cain expected to see when he came out into the lobby from the laundry room, Yuri entering with a canine was not it. Not only was it a canine, it was a dog. One wearing armor. One that was trained and had likely already ripped someone to shreds before with those sharp, cruel teeth and the images were already flashing in his eyes before Cain had any conscious ability to stop them. Teeth covered in blood, mixed with saliva and the smell assaulting his senses. He stepped back (stumbled, more like) and bumped his shoulder into the door frame. It stopped him cold, prompted a small gasp, and he was already tucking his chin down and bracing as if prepping to do... something. Anything.

"Hey!"

Yeah, okay, maybe calling out wasn't the best something to do but he wasn't in a position to analyze his options. His fight or flight instinct was blaring; the Hotel wasn't somewhere he controlled and his exit was blocked. From the doorway he could backtrack up to his room, but this was Yuri. His neighbor. That would do him no good, possibly do him worse. What else could he do?

Yuri never would have thought that anyone would have problems with a well behaved canine, who has seen combat yes... but has torn apart monsters more than people. Thus he's a bit surprised at the sudden outburst. The man pausing to blink and look in Cain's direction while Lambert perked up his ears and also looked with that stoic expression of his. All business and no nonsense, this dog.

"Huh? Me?"

Cain seemed to be looking his way after all.

"You," Cain said, tone short and tense, "and your dog."

Not exactly the easiest thing to confront, this whole canine-in-the-Hotel thing. Then again, Cain wasn't one to shirk away from difficult tasks, not since the first one he tried to hide from. Having a dog in the Hotel, having one so close to him now, was just putting him on edge. There was a very good reason he had never lived in dog-friendly neighborhoods in more recent years, or kept to villages or professions that didn't use dogs as part of their daily lives further back. As much as he could stand passing them by on the street or sometimes seeing them in movies, being so close on a personal level was sending him into an emotional tizzy already.

Nope, still couldn't do dogs. It would have been pathetic for someone of his age to have never gotten over, but there really wasn't anyone qualified to help deal with a three-thousand year old phobia tied directly to the largest failure of such a long life. It was far too deeply ingrained to try and dig out of his psyche to heal by now.

Taking a breath, he continued, "Where'd it come from?"

Again Yuri blinked and then looked down at Lambert, who just stared at Cain rather stoically.

"From my world. He's an old friend."

There was a pause as he looked Cain over. He certainly seemed rather... tense, and from the way Lambert shifted uneasily, he would be correct. Dogs could pick up on emotions pretty easily after all. The dog could smell his fear.

"You got something against dogs?"

Despite all of the weirdness that was settling into this new city in a world that didn't make sense, Casey made the most of it. First order of business had been to get a job. In a place where credentials were inapplicable, skill was appreciated and Casey had a skill that it turned out Anton Shudder had been looking for: medicine. Although their specialty was chemicals and their reactions to each other and humanoid bodies, Casey was well-versed in first-aid and was hired on as medic to maintain the kits around the Hotel and take care of any would-be injured within the walls.

Most of the time, it merely meant keeping stock and remaining on hand if anything necessary should pop up. It gave Casey some time to themselves and while the written language was something else entirely, completely different from anything they vaguely recognized, there were still some things that stayed the same. Like puzzles, and math, and Casey had managed to acquire a cheap book of visual puzzles to keep themselves busy in off moments or in times that they needed a distraction.

If not in their room on the second floor, Casey was easy enough to locate for whatever reason. The common room was a popular spot, as was the kitchen or passing through the lobby. Even if Casey wasn't at the Hotel at all hours, chances were they could be called and found by any of the other staff in case of a problem. Just don't mind if the medic is skittish about, well, pretty much anything unrelated to their job sometimes.

It had been an accident. One of her students had lost their grip on a wooden practice blade during a spar with a comrade and it had hit one of the other kedan on the head. Accidents happened, but Valdis wasn't taking any chances and had ended the class early. Now she, along with the kedan's sparring partner, were carrying the half-conscious man to the Healer's Guild, taking the shortcut through the Hotel.

"It won't take long," Valdis murmured, half to herself and half to her students. She knew that head wounds bled a lot, but she was concerned about a concussion. "We're almost there."

Anyone entering the Hotel usually got more than a cursory glance from Casey. They had angled themselves well enough to see comings and goings, and when two people entered carrying a third with what appeared to be a head wound, they stood abruptly and quickly moved to intercept them. Not to get in the way, of course, but to provide aid where Casey wasn't sure what they were planning to do.

"Excuse me!" said Casey, hand raised as if they needed to grab anyone's attention in such a small space. There was a first-aid kit stowed right at the reception desk and Casey was already moving to retrieve it. "What happened here? Is he conscious?"

Valdis' eyes widened as the boy raced over, carrying a first aid kit and calling for her attention. Her uninjured student paused, looking at the newcomer with confusion.

"Who are you?" Valdis asked, not eager to pause, but Anton had said he had hired a new medic.

"Casey Ramone," they introduced, not immediately bothered by the question. Being new here meant no one knowing who they were, which was both a benefit and a hindrance. In this case, hopefully it wouldn't get in the way too much before the injured man could receive some kind of medical attention. "I've been hired on as the live-in medic here. May I?"

Addressing both of them, Casey moved closer and sat down at the loveseat in the lobby and set the kit on the coffee table to open it and begin retrieving items to help clean the blood first and foremost. It would definitely help to look knowledgeable in the area and it wouldn't hurt to try and keep things moving while still explaining themselves, right?

She nodded, but her uninjured student looked to her for instruction, a skeptical look in his eyes, but Valdis steered him toward the couch with their injured companion. One of the other kedan in the Hotel quickly hurried over to lay a blanket down on the other couch so that they could lay the injured Kedan down.

"He got hit by one of the wooden practice blades," Valdis said, carefully lowering her student to the couch, making certain that his shoulders and head were supported.

Thankfully, she was cooperating without much question. That would make this a lot easier, and Casey soon moved over once they'd prepared a cloth to start wiping up the blood obscuring any injury beneath it. They held the injured man's jaw firmly, dabbing gently while keeping a sharp eye for any possible complications such as splinters or pain reaction to a specific area aside from the site of impact.

"How long has he been unconscious? Since he was hit?" Such a blow could be worry for head injury, but Casey wasn't going to jump to conclusions. First see what outer, physical symptoms could be ascertained while gaining information on the incident. Their hand did stray for a moment to crack open the man's eyelid and judge at his reaction to the light in the room just in case of an immediately obvious internal injury that would necessitate moving him. Head wounds were always tricky business to deal with. "What's his name?"

"He's still conscious," Valdis replied sharply, waving the other kedan away and stepping back herself, so that Casey would have room to work, "But just barely."

"His name is Palton," Valdis' other student replied, wanting to hover but blocked by Valdis.

Valdis watched Casey carefully, slightly nervous about leaving Palton to their care as opposed to taking her student to Raine.

Both good things. Casey was seeing minor reactions to their cleaning but nothing too serious yet; scalp wounds bled a lot, and chances were that Casey had yet to find the actual source. Even if it didn't wake Palton up, there would likely be an automatic twitch or the like to signal it.

"Palton," they said, attention focused on the patient. "Palton, can you hear me? My name is Casey, I'm here to help. I need you to let me know if you can hear me, Palton."

Even if there were no words or anything coherent, judging what stimuli he was still taking in was important. Casey turned their attention to the others briefly to see where they had set themselves after giving them room, then returned attention back to Palton. "What about coherency at the time of the incident? Has it degenerated at all?"

"Not particularly," Valdis replied.

Palton gave a small nod when asked if he could hear and the flinched when Casey hit upon the source of the bleeding. It was only a small cut, but the impact would probably have left a much larger bruise.

"Go back to the Dojo," Valdis ordered her uninjured student, the kedan lingered for a moment longer, but then nodded and headed for the door.

Casey winced in sympathy when the cut was located, then carefully cleaned around the wound as best they could. It was still bleeding and treatment to the site itself wasn't going to be simple. Rather, it would be easier to treat the bandage for now and apply it to the wound. Turning to their kit, Casey pulled out a pad of gauze and some cotton wrapping before going to place it around Palton's head once the medicated pad was affixed. Just some antibiotics to keep infection out while it cleaned.

"Doesn't look like a concussion and the wound isn't too deep," they declared, a tone of thankfulness evident. Shifting to face Valdis, they continued, "He'll need to be watched for the next twenty-four hours but rest and fluids should help. Nothing strenuous or it will probably keep bleeding and not heal at all."

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[Midnight Hotel] October catch-all

Anton | Early October | CW: None

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Skulduggery and Anton | Early October | Probable spoilers for the SP series

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Cain (And Anton if he wants to jump in) | Early October

cw already: violent imagery

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Wow I'm so sorry this fell by the wayside somehow.

Meet the Medic

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