it's getting hot in here

[happyheartsstaff]

SO (PLEASE DON'T) TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES

Days are almost meaningless, here in Wonderland. With the eternal twilight outside the windows and many of the hotel's amenities open around the clock, it can be hard to keep track, can't it? But you must sleep, or at least return to your room, some time. It's on one of these times that you may begin to notice a faint sound coming from inside the walls. Or is it the ceiling? The floor? Something that sounds like scratching, or tapping, or the strained whir of machinery. Then it fades away. Whether it's moving on to another room or stopping entirely, it's hard to tell.

After a few nights, or days, of this happening, it suddenly stops. There's a brief period of peace, and perhaps you even get some rest. Then there's a series of thumps, sharp clicks and a loud stuttering sound that signals the hotel's air conditioning unit giving out.

At first it's not so bad. It's dark out, right, how hot can it really be outside? The air itself still seems to be circulating, albeit more slowly, but it's enough that you can breathe. But the heat seems to keep building, and building, the air hanging heavy and thick and leaving a lingering feeling that it's pressing down on you. Even sitting still no longer becomes enough to ease the suffocating heat.

The staff don't know what's happened to the air conditioner, when you ask. "Oh, that finicky thing", they say, as if it's a minor inconvenience. They assure you that the Queen's mechanics will have it fixed in no time — they always do. In the meantime, can they interest you in a refreshing iced tea? Perhaps a dip in the pool?

Is it your imagination, or do a few of the staff seem a little uncertain as they try to brush off your questions? A little less confident than they always have been before? Whatever their demeanor, it seems they still have no answers to give. The astute may notice that after a conversation with one of these staff, they can't seem to be found again.

As if that weren't enough, the scratching in the walls starts up again. With the oppressive heat, the rising tension and frayed nerves, is it any wonder that the staff might seem more apprehensive?

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT 06/11 - 06/13

Sleeping is probably hard enough, in a hotel where the activity never seems to cease. At least it's generally quiet in the upper floors, at least Oysters can turn out the lights in their own room and find some peace.

...usually, anyway.

At first it's only the faintest sounds, something only noticeable to those who sleep lightly. The staff, if asked, don't acknowledge hearing anything and seem politely concerned about anything disturbing the rest of their guests. Oysters may be offered ear plugs, or a device to listen to music, or a trip to the spa for relaxation.

Then it grows in both volume and frequency, disturbing even the heaviest of sleepers at night. Some staff still say they haven't heard anything, other staff acknowledge the sounds but brush them off, unconcerned. Every building has its quirks, after all! There does seem to be an increase in staff milling about, however, making it difficult for those who may want to look into things without being seen.

CLICK CLICK... THUMP

06/14 - 06/21

The fourth day of the event begins with a short period of blissful silence, quickly ruined by a loud, persistent clicking sound, audible in all parts of the hotel... And then an even louder THUMP as the air conditioning unit gives out.

At first, it's not terrible — the air is still circulating, and while the heat is uncomfortable it's not unbearable. As time goes on, though, the heat builds and builds, until not even staying in place will provide any relief.

The staff profess ignorance to whatever happened to the air conditioner, if asked — some more convincingly than others. They all offer iced teas for relief, and suggest a dip in the Pool of Tears, though those who seem uncertain when answering any questions will try to leave the conversation faster, and won't be easily found again.

While the iced teas are incredibly effective at helping to beat the heat, they once again seem to offer some strange effects — enough glasses, and Oysters will be overcome either with anger and irritation, or a sense of serene calm. Any little thing could set off an Oyster who's been affected by the anger-inducing tea; an Oyster who drank the calming tea is utterly unflappable. These effects persist for just as long as it takes for the cooling effects to wear off, at which point Oysters are left with a choice — deal with the heat, or take their chances with another tea?

And to top it all off, the scratching noise in the walls has started up again. The few staff remaining at this point are as unhelpful as ever, but they don't have the same infuriating calm to their answers — but who could blame them being a little nervous?

QUEEN'S ADDRESS

06/21

And finally, the tenth day brings relief in the form of a loud shuddering sound, and then the quiet whoosh of a working air conditioner. Over the course of the day, the Hotel gets progressively cooler, until it is once again at the comfortable, cool temperature Oysters had grown used to in their first month here in the Hotel.

It also brings an address from the Queen.

"Oh, my curious Oysters, when you try to play with that which you don't understand, you break things! Not to fear, all has been set to rights now that our dear Dormouse has fixed what some careless guest disrupted. If you wanted to play games, you should have simply said! I have a dear companion for you who is so eager to join in the fun."

The Queen will not respond to any messages sent back to her.

If you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post here. RNG results for the off limits areas will be going out tomorrow, so if anyone would still like to sign up for those that hasn't yet please do so tonight!

PREMISE RULES FAQ TAKEN RESERVES APPLICATION MOD CONTACT HIATUS & DROPS WORLD INFO NPCS CALENDAR AC REWARDS

© tessisamess

Comments

[earthborn]

No, I... [she stops, distracted by some small detail. It's just so eerie, so strange. All the indication of power and life, but no sound, no hum.] ...I was on the Citadel. Normandy shouldn't have been within a dozen light-years of where I was.

[She takes a deep breath and suddenly snaps to purpose, turning to look back at the place the door had been. It's an airlock now, or rather it's the interior shielding-door to the airlock, with at least ten feet of air and another three of shielding and armor between where they're standing and whatever it is that's outside the ship.]

I can get us through there, physically. But we don't know what's on the other side anymore, and if it's hard vacuum then we'd both better be in kit. [Assuming, of course, that more doors don't simpy lead to more strangeness.] I've got a spare in my cabin, and there might be something in your size down in cargo.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ There'd actually been a brief moment of - well, not hope, not really. A moment of interest is probably closer, that maybe they'd managed to break in on whatever kind of portal the people behind this were using to kidnap people.

That maybe they'd found a way back to where she'd been when this started.

The other explanation is - well, there's lots of them, really. If he had to guess, he'd say it might have something to do with the way his room looks like a mix between a dozen random hotel rooms and the Raft.

He's not sure he believes they're actually on her ship, in the middle of space - it's a lot more likely that this place is messing with them somehow - but he's not really keen to risk it, so he nods. ]

Let's do this, then. Think we can pick up a couple of weapons, too, just in case?

[earthborn]

[Bless the optimism that lived in Sam's heart, but Shepard could not share it. She steps up to him, then briefly to the right, a little awkward in the narrow space, and keys open the weapons locker there. It shouldn't have held anything fancier than a Tempest, for the sake of Joker's shoulderbones, but Shepard would take anything with gratitude at the moment.[]

Damn. [It was empty. Whatever there was to this place, it didn't seem inclined to arm them.] I'm gonna go with no.

[there is a beat of silence, then Shepard turns away, abrupt and brusque]

Let's keep moving. They better not have done something to my hamster.

[The CIC is appallingly empty in a way that speaks to Shepard of nothing so much as that brief window when it had been empty before, when the Collectors had taken every last soul on the ship, with little exception. The hour of darkness when they'd been forced to simply charge in, with whatever they'd had to hand, and... Well, better not to linger. The elevator opens at her request and for a brief flash of time Shepard tenses, ready for the door to reveal some fresh strangeness, but it's only the same narrow cube as always. Going up!

The same couldn't be said of Shepard's cabin, however. The vestibule looked fine enough, and she had just about begun to hope when the door opened not to reveal the comforting blue glow or the decadent, ridiculous size of her quarters, but instead... something all too terrestrial.

And very unfamiliar.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Course not.

[ And there's another one for not actually on the ship, then. Though granted - if they were actually somewhere that physically resembled Shepard's space ship, then yeah, of course they'd have made sure not to put any weapons on it, same as they'd taken any weapons from them when they all got here.

The fact that she has a hamster - oh, no, that's actually pretty damn endearing, and he can't help but shoot a little smile at her even as he moves easily to keep pace with her.

He's not gonna comment on it, but he noticed that.

And he actually does kind of hope the hamster's there - for one thing, it'd be nice to see any sign of something else alive. There's way too much silence for a ship this big.

When the doors open on what he expects to be Shepard's quarters, he - does a double take, and steps out of the elevator almost as if drawn in. ]

What the hell?

[ It's his office. His old one at the VA - small in a way that should probably have felt cramped, except he'd worked so damn hard to make the best use of space that he could. Bookshelves and a filing cabinet pressed against the far wall, a small desk wedged between them - laptop open and running, a few files on the desk, his old coffee mug and a couple of bird figurines.

The space where he met clients on the other end of the room - purposefully kept minimal, the path to the door open and clear, neither of the comfortable look chairs blocking the exit of the other. A landscaped mural on one wall to make up for the lack of a window, obviously hand painted and in excellent detail. He approaches it now, fingertips pressing gently against the paint. ]

[earthborn]

[Something behind Shepard's jaw feels hot and tight, like a stripped screw, a coil about to overheat. She reaches up to rub at the base of her skull, where the implant port had once been. Behind her, the elevator door stands, impassive, grey-blue alloy, calm lights. Where her cabin ought to be is... a room. It's not shabby, but it's got an air of habitual neglect, papered over with one person's dedication and forethought, like a mended shirt. There was love in it.

But this definitely wasn't the Normandy. And it wasn't this place either. shepard recalled her earlier conversation with Crowley, and how much more likely this was to Hell than anything else.]

...This is your place, then? [She has to grit to keep the fight out of her tone, looking left, and right again. The door seems incongruously wide in the space, but then it's far from Earth-standard.] Seems...nice. Quiet.

[Out of place. But she'll remember it. For later.]

Got any ideas?

[Because hers all involve trying every door and window she can find, whether it spits them out into space or not.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ It wasn't fancy, but he'd made it his - one of the few things in his life that he'd gotten to do so. He'd always known it wasn't going to be forever - Sam wasn't the settling down type - and he doesn't regret leaving it behind to join the Avengers, not even now that it'd only led to him being on the run.

But seeing it now, exactly like it used to be when it was his, he can't deny that it hits him a little. ]

Used to be.

[ Which, well. Probably says enough, without him having to waste time explaining.

He pulls himself out of it a little at her question, though, shaking his head and reminding himself that now definitely isn't the time to go down memory lane. ]

I'm pretty sure they're getting this right out of our memories. I don't know about your room, but they pulled this same kind of shit with mine. Maybe since we're both in here, it got us mixed up.

[earthborn]

But why?

[Just to make them feel bad? There were better ways to do that. But then, maybe this wasn't set up for anything in particular; like a VR program without a scenario set. Neutral. They did break in, after all.]

...Alright, you sound like you know what you're about. How do we get out? I know Normandy, but if every door is just gonna be Sam Wilson's greatest hits, I don't know how much use that'll be.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ He doesn't really have any answers to why. If this actually is the after life - why not mess with their heads, let them have a look back at their lives and what they made of them? If it's not - hell if he knows.

Maybe this is all set up for some future nefarious purpose, and they just stumbled in on it in development.

Where they go from here, though, he's at least got an idea. ]

We work together. You know the Normandy, I know my shit - we use that. This is supposed to be your quarters, right? But they turned it into mine. So I'm betting - where would you go to get out of here, under normal circumstances? You get us there, and I'll get us through whatever of my shit's on the other side, and maybe we'll find our way out.

[ Granted, he's working on a sample size of one, but if her room became his, it'd make sense that her exit would leave to something of his that's got a way out. And then he makes a little face, because yeah, he knows how that sounds. It's the best he's got right now. ]

[earthborn]

That'll be the cargo bay; let's move.

[Still in the doorway, blocking the automatic hatch from closing, Shepard gestures for him to lead the way; she's certainly not stepping back until he's clear, lest the door inevitably shut and they be trapped and separated, instead of merely trapped.

She has seen this horror movie before, you see.]

Y'know, I've been operating on the theory that I'm dead. [She says it conversationally, as they step into the elevator again. It's a slow ride down those few levels, but elevators are always good for idle conversation.] I've never been religious or anything but... What's your take? Because I've had weird things happen before, but this is something else.

[As in, not physically possible.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ He's of the same mind, there - the last thing he wants is for them to get separated in here. On the way back into the elevator, he snags one of the bird figurines on his desk, tucking it into his pocket. It's - all right, it's a small bit out of sentimentality, but it's also a test. When they get out of here, if the bird comes with him? All right, well, he won't really have any answers, but it'll be something.

Sam huffs out a breath at her question, considering. It's not like it's out of the realm of possibility. His life the last couple of years has been a series of brushes with death, really, that last one could have been it. ]

My dad was a minister. The kind of afterlife he used to talk about, man, I don't know if I ever bought into it. For all I know, this could be it.

[ He leans against the side of the elevator as they descend, turning the bird figure around in his hand. They both feel real, but - ]

There's people who can look into your mind, too, either with technology or mental powers, you know? Maybe that's what this is.

[earthborn]

[Shepard gives that idea it's due consideration. True, what he said, there were people, and things, that could get into your head like that. An Asari could do it, if one were skilled and powerful enough. A Rachni, maybe. Reapers, and their like; she had no trouble remembering the cold grasp of the Leviathans, like a black-out shroud on all perception.

This didn't feel the same, but with a sample-size of one, what the hell did Shepard know about it?]

That would be a lot worse. [She seems pretty confident in that.] Almost hate to say it, but I'd rather be dead.

[Because if the Reapers, or indeed anyone else, can get her, then they can get everything else. Not that she's bitter. She said to herself, bitterly.]

Ugh, this whole thing is such bullshit. I was supposed to be done.