Anton Shudder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gistful) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2016-05-04 09:10 pm
gistful) wrote in tushanshu_logs2016-05-04 09:10 pm
[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.]
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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"It's a better habit than licking mold or whatever you've done to know what that would taste like." A weak attempt at a joke but he was trying to not be too much of an asshole. "What the fuck are dwarves? Other than short." That part was easy to guess. He was still mildly curious at to what species she might be. The ears still made him think youkai, but he doubted that was the case. No claws or fangs to go with.
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Of course, she hadn't actually drank a whole lot while chasing after the Titan, but she'd given a flask an experimental sip when it had been offered. Alley rarely flexed any diplomatic finesse, but even at her least level of political effort, she knew better than to turn her nose up at a dwarf's brew.
Even if it had tasted like paint thinner. At least they didn't mind her saying as much; the Legion tended to be pretty free of posturing.
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Something told him that he couldn't really complain right now. His journey had plenty of shit involved, but they had eaten well enough when they had access to food. Goku and Gojyo's resistance to raw deer aside.
"Bet it's something to watch you in a fight, with scars like that. How damn big are these dragons are you running into? Or whatever the hell you run into underground." A delayed question but he could afford to show some curiosity while being "friendly."
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Which she did.
"That wasn't about dragons, that was about finding out the reason for these big earthquakes that were burying dwarves and crumbling the surface. Fought darkspawn, of course," like he knew what those were. She knew he didn't, but the name implied enough, she figured. "And the Sha-Brytol; ancient dwarves bonded to and tasked with defending the Titan... and eventually the Titan itself."
All of which sounded like tons of fun, didn't it?
"High dragons? They're bigger than this rooftop. I don't like killing them, aside from the challenge. But it has to be done, or they move in, and breed, and over-run everything else living in their range. Kind of like humans."
It wasn't even a dig, just a fact. Humans subjugated everything they could on her world, including her own race.
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"Humans are pretty crap," he agreed, showing no sign of being offended. It's not like he was fond of other people, human or otherwise. He didn't even like himself, liking other humans was a bit of a tall order. With the exception of a few. Very few. "So would you gut me if I asked what the hell you are?"
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"Are elves built tough as shit? You look like some of those dragons used you for a chew toy." It wasn't really an insult, she didn't seem like the type to give a shit that she was scarred up as hell.
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There, she thought of the city elves, living under the whims -- and chains -- of humanity...
"Life just forges some people a certain way. I'm definitely a shield." Alleyana took another pull of the cigarette, and made another face before continuing. "...Dented and gouged, sure, but still sound enough. I get the job done."
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"You take that shield thing damned serious." Something to respect, really. She reminded him of Sharak Sanzo in a lot of ways. No bullshit, covered in scars, could certainly kick his ass, plenty enough similarities for him. "That's not a bad thing. Unless this damn turtle in bringing in useful people for a reason."
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She didn't elaborate, though, instead sizing him up side-long.
"You're skinny and you wear robes. On my world, that screams 'mage'. But you didn't pull up magic to defend yourself in the library; not even a barrier. You went for a weapon instead. Held it like a crossbow." They didn't have guns on her world, but between Bianca and the Sha-Brytol's even more lethal crossbows that burned what they punched into, she was familiar enough with projectile-firing weaponry.
(...Well, there were possibly guns, but they were cannons if they were anything, and only the Qunari had access to them if they existed at all. Rumors, speculation, but nothing Alley had laid eyes on personally. Nor had she ever asked Bull about it, even after he'd gone Tal-Vashoth.)
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The skinny comment wasn't appreciated. At least she didn't call him a "twig". He'd get pretty salty over that one.
"It's called a gun," he said, choosing, wisely, not to let his tone grow brittle about any implications she may or may not be making. "It'll kill you just as well as magic. I'm not a 'mage', I'm a monk." Ugh, he hated explaining it like that but he also didn't want to explain his title. "My 'magic' takes a few seconds. A gun is instant. I went for the efficient option."
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She could nearly hear Vivienne's laughter at the idea of magic not being efficient enough. (Darling, really?) Clearly, things worked differently on his world. That, and he wasn't actually a mage.
"It doesn't help that one of the mages I used to hang out with the most had the same habit of throwing books he considered beneath his standards," Alley mused, looking at the... whatever the view was like from an inter-dimensional rooftop. She wasn't particularly sad about it, or at least not in any freshly-wounded way. Her rag-tag group of miscreants had scattered to the four winds before she'd been thrown onto this world.
She did miss being able to talk to Dorian with that amulet, though. Whatever had brought her here, it hadn't brought that with her. Would it have worked across worlds? Probably not, and it wasn't worth much to her if it didn't work...
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"I was throwing the damn books because I was pissed." At least he was honest about that. "From what I can guess, mages from wherever the hell you're from are more like skilled youkai from my world. Still, not much in the way of wearing robes unless you're a monk. My robes are pretty specific at that. Not that it means shit here."
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Everything meant everything in the Fade. It was less awful in that way.
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"Also the 'Fade' can fuck right the hell off." Any place that generated dreams had to be terrible.
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"There's no 'don't have to'," she grunted in response to the rest. "I always have to. Never not a fight around the corner."
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As in many cases, Sanzo wasn't one to talk. He never left the hotel without his gun and, of course, the sutra.
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"I don't trust the quiet for a damn second but 'least this hotel has its fucking wards." Stupid wards that made his gun pointless! He hated that the most. It was one thing to not be allowed to use the thing, that he might not be able to do as much as he could to defend himself- and Amberdrake- if that became a risk, bothered him.