angryhearts | to lose all my senses

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to lose all my senses —

THAT IS JUST SO TYPICALLY ME

It's not clear how many days it's been since you arrived in Wonderland. With it stuck in perpetual twilight, it could have been days, perhaps longer — everything starts to blur together, in this artificially joyful place. Maybe you've started to feel like you you're getting used to it, maybe not...

But eventually, something happens to break the monotony. Your ears begin to ring, and ring, and ring and then — stop. The lights become blinding, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and try to rub the afterimage of all that light from them — but when you open your eyes, you still can't see.

The staff don't understand when you ask them what's happened to you. "You've always been like this", they insist. They sign at you, or try to hand you papers written in braille — if you insist you've never signed in your life, or that you can't read braille, they laugh at your funny joke. You begin to wonder — have you always been this way? You were so sure... But everyone around you is equally sure of their truth, and their voices are so much louder.

As if that weren't enough, nothing in the hotel can be found in the same place twice. All the shops keep switching places, once you enter one area it's as though everything shifts in the minutes before you leave again. Getting back to your room is a struggle — where are the elevators? Finding food is nearly impossible — the Pig & Pepper was there, but now it's not. The staff are equally useless here — they have no idea what you mean about moving shops. Where would you want to move to when all your needs are accounted for right here?

What is going on?

SEE NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL — 5/11

The day starts like any other has in the Hotel — unsure if a new day has started at all. Perpetual twilight and lack of clocks makes it difficult to tell time here in the Hotel, but on this particular day, something breaks up the monotony. It begins slowly — or else it happens all at once. Over the course of the day, all Oysters find themselves losing a sense. Staff don't understand their complaints — you've always been like this, they say, gentle, as though to a person in the middle of a break with reality.

Losing your temper won't help, either. Oysters who shout and yell will find staff remaining frustrating calm and compassionate, insisting that they cannot fix what has always been and murmuring about Mad March before taking their leave. Physical aggression may result in a spike of fear, but staff will quickly make their exit and may avoid that Oyster for a while.

If that wasn't enough, nothing in the Hotel is staying put.

IT'S LIKE A MAZE IN HERE — 5/11

The interior of the Hotel has ceased to remain stationary. Beginning at the same time as the loss of senses, the establishments of the Hotel begin to jump around, never staying in the same place twice. An Oyster may have entered the Pool of Tears from the lobby, but exit it into the middle of the casino. The Pig & Pepper Buffet is never in the same place twice, and always seems to move right when Oysters desperately need a meal.

Even as the old shops move, new establishments seem to be being added, but they aren't easy to find — Oysters will see a new sign across the building from where they are, only to see it's moved again by the time they get there. If you take your eyes off an establishment as you head toward it, it disappears and reappears elsewhere. Making it to the new establishments will take some time and dedication (or perhaps plain stubbornness), but there are rewards in it for any Oyster that can manage the feat!

Back To Rights — 5/15

A few days after the effects of the event begin, they just as suddenly end. Sight, hearing, speech — they all return in a rush, possibly overwhelmingly so, and when one tries to make their way to a shop, it stays exactly where it was when they first saw it, and they exit the exact same place they entered. Staff will react much the same way as they did when they were questioned after the loss of senses — you've always been like this.

You made it through, Oysters. You've completed your first event in the Hotel.

We hope you enjoy this first event, Oysters! If you have any questions, please leave them on the first comment to this page. Happy playing!

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"What if we topple backwards?" he asks, looking behind him even though he can't see, and then remembering that he can't see and rolling his eyes at himself.

He sticks closely to Crowley, arm around him tight, pressed up against his side, obviously unwilling to move.

But then he moves forward and kicks the step, again, and realizes Crowley might have a point.

Looking at him with tight, pursed lips, he holds out his hands for a carry, finally acquiescing, though he's unhappy about it.

This isn't so bad, Crowley thinks. Aziraphale is warm and cushioned, nestled snugly between his wings, and the weight of him is very manageable. He tries not to let his thoughts wander to the fact that this is actually rather pleasant.

He needs a break by the second landing. Fortunately for his pride, a door has finally seen fit to manifest.

"Lucky us," Crowley says, gently guiding Aziraphale back down to solid ground. He's glad Aziraphale can't see him, beet red and sweating. "Let's see where it goes?"

"I suppose we don't have another choice?" he asks, a little weakly. He clings on so tightly that he can feel how warm Crowley is, and so he reaches out with his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his brow.

He nearly gets Crowley in the eye.

Yeah, but other than that, it's one of his smoother moves.

"Alright, fine." He frowns. "Let's go."

Crowley does appreciate it. Good grief, these human bodies were always leaking some manner of fluid, though sweat was one of the least unpleasant kinds. He's going to need a shower. Or a nice long soak.

He pushes, realizes his error, and then pulls the door open. He's sure it's another empty hall, until he looks around the bend and spots -

"...A spa? I didn't know there was a spa here."

"A spa?" he asks, surprised, slightly annoyed. That wasn't remotely where they wanted to go. It seems like this place is just playing with them. They want to find a way out and the hotel tells them to calm down.

"I didn't think there was, either. We are truly lost. Or perhaps we're somewhere else entirely. Outside of the hotel. Perhaps if we keep moving, we'll get somewhere useful."

"Wouldn't that be lucky," he says, guiding Aziraphale through the door. "But I don't think so."

He glances over his shoulder and, yes, to his complete lack of surprise, the door is gone. And then he turns his attention back to Aziraphale, so he doesn't miss anything the angel says.

"I was just thinking I'd need a bath, and suddenly a spa appears. If anything, this feels like a trap. Shall we go poke the bait?"

Aziraphale glares at Crowley's nose and slightly to the left, but he eventually becomes agreeable.

"This is definitely a trap," he says, miming the word trap. Which means they shouldn't stick around for too long and definitely, positively, not undertake any of the services.

He'll probably have to talk Crowley out of a bath.

It is sort of annoying, having to take care of these human bodies. They're get dirty so easily!

Stepping into the spa is an experience in and of itself. There is a sudden whirlwind of motion and activity, and while Crowley may be deaf, he does pick up the vibration of chatter. He holds tight to Aziraphale's hand, pulling the angel close to his side so they don't get separated as they're herded down a corridor. Crowley is actually able to read on the workers lips 'first customers', 'grand opening', and 'couple's room' as they are pushed through a sliding wood door, one of the employees saying to Aziraphale that they are free to enjoy the room's facilities to their hearts content and to ring when they're ready for the manicurist and massuer.

The door clicks shut behind them, and Crowley is in a mild state of shock.

"Did you... get any of that?" he asks, looking around. It's a nice room; clean and minimalist with the lingering scent of the more innocuous blends of essential oils used for aromatherapy. On one end, there were a pair of comfortable looking massage beds. On the other, a deep, in-ground bath flanked by shelves of fluffy white bath towels and robes and a pair of loungers. Crowley did a very good job at not looking at the candles. Or the scattered flower petals. Directly across from them seemed to be an entrance to a sauna. Crowley decides to just avert his eyes to the ceiling.

"Yes," Aziraphale responds as they are so rudely-nicely ushered into the spa. He keeps trying to wave off any offers. Oh no, they won't be staying very long and he's just there to look. He doesn't complain about any of the mistaking them as a couple, even when one of the women keep referring to them as "you and your husband," obviously picking up on the fact that Aziraphale is the one calling the shots.

"Really, this is quite unnecessary, we don't need any... any services, we'd just like to know how to get to... the lobby," he says, arm suddenly just about everywhere around Crowley as he imagines the spa employees to be swarming them as if they are in a particularly aggressive Lush store.

Still holding tight to Aziraphale just in case a sudden whirlwind might tear through and rip the angel from him, Crowley inspects their new surroundings. It does smell nice. It's quiet, doors and halls aren't disappearing and reappearing here, and he and Aziraphale could use a breather.

"I'm not picking up anything weird. Do you want to just. Take a minute here, angel?"

"Take a minute! Crowley, what if things get worse? What if you start to lose your sight and I my hearing?" Then they'd really be like blind leading the blind.

"We've got to fix this."

He can't believe he's not the one suggesting they take a spa day, to be quite honest.

Crowley makes a sound of frustration.

"Angel, I don't think we can fix this! The staff are pretending that we've always been like this and the building is actively fucking with us. I just - I need a minute to think!"

His voice shows where he's beginning to crack. Crowley isn't just scared, he's utterly terrified, and he doesn't know what to do. Worst of all, he's worrying about what might happen to Aziraphale should they get separated. His mind keeps doubling back to the choking smell of smoke as a bookshop burned around him.

"Fine, alright," he says, turning to face Crowley, reaching out for his shoulder but getting his cheek instead. Fine. Sure. He reaches over and cups his cheek.

"Let's stay a little bit, then. Maybe get you booked for a massage?" He smiles softly at Crowley's forehead.

It's at least close.

Crowley is quickly stunned to silence. He sputters a moment, but nothing intelligible comes out. His fear is momentarily forgotten, though quickly replaced by a new kind of panic.

Is he doing this on purpose? his frantic mind wonders, veering off into every scenario where Aziraphale might ever be inclined to touch him so intimately, and came up short. It must have been a mistake, and that, at least, was familiar enough territory.

"Don't need a massage," he says finally. "Just. A place to think. That isn't some twisting hallway."

No, Aziraphale is not doing any of this on purpose. He can't see, and if he could see how Crowley was taking all this, he'd rip his hand away as if being burnt.

"Alright, alright. We'll stay." For as long as they need, because Aziraphale wouldn't want to go anywhere without Crowley at this moment. They're all the other has right now.

He does let go, eventually, and stick to taking Crowley's hand. None of this makes the staff think that they're less of a couple, which even Aziraphale can tell by the tone in their voices.

Crowley holds Aziraphale's hand like a lifeline, and guides him to one of the loungers. It made from wicker but shaped in a modern, ergonomic design, and there were a few plush white cushions.

"I don't think there's anything we can actually do about this angel. It feels like - like they're sending a message. 'Look what we can do just for a lark, now play nice'."

Crowley hates this. This feeling of helplessness, of being constantly watched and monitored.

He signs gently into Aziraphale's palm; 'I don't know how to fight back yet. But I haven't given up either.'

Aziraphale receives his message and then closes Crowley's hand into a fist, and lays his own over it reassuringly, giving it a squeeze before letting go to lay back in this lounger.

He hadn't realized how far back it would go and falls back most of the way with a "whoomph!" noise.

"Perhaps we should enjoy one of the services," he says after a pause. Maybe that would help to calm Crowley down just the slightest. He's too on-edge. It makes Aziraphale nervous, but more importantly, breaks his heart.

Crowley doesn't hear the 'whoomph!' but he certainly feels it, and is immediately at Aziraphale's side. It seems he hit the back of the chair a bit too hard, but nothing major.

Exhaling with relief, Crowley settles at his side, sprawling his legs out over the floor.

"All sweaty. Could use a bath. Didn't even know I could sweat, m'a snake. Aren't I supposed to be cold blooded?"

"You are, but I feel like our bodies aren't quite operating as usual," he signs, his first words strained both in hand signals and in voice as he attempts to sit up right.

He presses the back of his hand to Crowley's forehead. "You're fine, dear. Not more sweaty than you ought to be. Not too much, anyway." Perfectly normal amounts for a warm-blooded creature.

"But if you want, we'll book us a bath, shall we?" he offers. He doesn't mean both of them in one, just. They should book baths. Two baths.

Crowley's mind, oddly enough, doesn't go There. He and Aziraphale have met in saunas and baths in the past in times and places where that sort of thing was en vogue, and while Crowley certainly admired the angel's physical form, he'd never really viewed such meetings as potentially intimate rendezvous, so he doesn't really think they'd take one separately. Especially since it doesn't seem wise to split up right now.

"I'll go with you then - be your eyes, yeah? Not sure I trust this lot. Practically swarmed us when we got in."

It's been quite out of fashion to take baths with your friends for some time, except for in Japan and in Finland. Though, put in that context, he really wouldn't mind a dip with company.

"So long as nothing odd happens. No... shrinking oils or growing bubbles," he signs while pouting. He's still upset about turning pocket-sized...

This actually gets an actual laugh from Crowley.

"Oh I don't know, I rather liked having an angel on my shoulder."

But Aziraphale had made a very good point.

"I'll test the waters. Give it ten or fifteen minutes. If nothing happens, I'll help you in. Otherwise you might have to fish me out."

"Oh, alright, but it's going to be rather difficult as I can't see you and you can't hear me." He raises an eyebrow because Crowley, this is honestly one of the worst plans that they have ever decided.

And they'd had plenty of bad ones.

"You have to come with me when we eat, by the way. Safer that way. I decided it with one of the others here, that one of us would be a taste tester, except. Well. We both like to eat..."

Crowley doesn't think they can have good plans here. Not yet, not until they figure out just how this place works.

"Sure. I don't mind playing guinea pig. I imagine it was torture having to worry about every bite...?"

He sounds genuinely sympathetic. So far they've messed with two of Aziraphale's greatest pleasures - reading and food. Crowley is not at all happy about it.

Yes, it was in fact, quite torturous, but mostly for his partner who was the volunteer as not the guinea pig. It honestly wasn't that bad for Aziraphale who just dug right in and ate as fast as possible to make sure that it was safe.

That was totally why.

The two of them get led into a chamber for bathing, and Aziraphale waits for the staff to leave before he starts to disrobe in the antechamber, behind a dressing screen.

THAT IS JUST SO TYPICALLY ME

SEE NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL — 5/11

IT'S LIKE A MAZE IN HERE — 5/11

Back To Rights — 5/15

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