𝐻𝒜𝒫𝒫𝒴 𝐻𝐸𝒜𝑅𝒯𝒮 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝐹𝐹 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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angryhearts2020-08-11 11:18 pm
happyheartsstaff) wrote in angryhearts2020-08-11 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
you want to hear it? well —
ONLY, MY SECRET'S MINE, AND I WON'T TELL
The garden may no longer be available upon return to the hotel, but there is still a bustle of energy. How fortunate all the Oysters are, to reside in such a renowned place! It's a great honor for those in Wonderland to be granted opportunity to teach their skills or ply their trade here, and the Queen permits only the best. Hotel staff themselves seem to delight in the presence of the traveling merchants. Many trade teas or favors for enchanted items, and will eagerly discuss their purchases. "Oh, it happens regularly enough," they will say if asked, "but you never know if the merchant you liked or the item you eyed will be back next time!"
The talk lingers after the guest instructors and merchants have departed, but it isn't the only thing left behind. Glimmers of green may catch your eye, tucked away in hidden places that seem almost impossible to reach without drawing attention to yourself. Those who manage it will find a scrap of heavy paper with a drawing of a stylized caterpillar, a series of numbers, and the words call a friend.
Are you curious enough to input the numbers into your Empathy? It will ring, if you do, until an answering machine picks up and asks a single question — How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Do you dare leave a message? What will it be? Whatever you decide, the call will disconnect after a few minutes. It seems the only thing you can do now is wait for a call back.
But of course, the hotel is not in the habit of allowing such a thing as idle waiting. Her Royal Highness has noticed that some of her beloved Oysters seem quite reluctant to partake of the many splendors that the hotel provides, and she will be offering a special treat — indulgence.
QUEEN'S GAMES
8/12 - 8/22
What's more fun to indulge in than a little healthy competition? It's time for the Queen's Games, a truly dazzling spectacle. Competitors come from all over Wonderland, and this year for the first time ever, Oysters are invited to join! Announcements for the games schedule will be posted all throughout the hotel, along with directions on how to register to join.
The games will be held in either the pool area or the gym, which seems to have expanded to accommodate the number of spectators. Available games include:
Of course, even the games that Oysters are familiar with may not be quite the same. Chess in Wonderland is a team sport, for example, with each member of the team filling a role as a chess piece and a coach as a strategist directing the plays. Attempting to capture one of the other team's pieces includes having to successfully win a fight against them. Gymnastics and diving competitors include growing and shrinking in size to their routines, ice sculptures come to life when they've been completed, artistic swimmers and ice skaters change costumes and swap partners in the blink of an eye.
If they're lucky, Oysters may find one of the competitors willing to show them the ropes. If they're even luckier, or more persistent, there may be a spot or two open on one of the teams that Oysters can slot themselves into. For the most part, team members will be delighted to have Oysters there.
"You all just feel so much," one may say, sounding a little awed.
"Show off those emotions, it'll get us points," another will add.
Although competitors are friendly, with Osyters and with each other, it's clear that most of them are here to win. Rivalries may flare up throughout the month, ex-lovers may be reunited and broken up again, infighting may spark among the teams — all things that can be soothed or exacerbated, for Oysters who may have inclinations towards utilizing such things to increase their chances of winning.
Or to fan the flames of drama for its own sake.
The games will be held in either the pool area or the gym, which seems to have expanded to accommodate the number of spectators. Available games include:
- archery
- chess
- croquet
- artistic swimming
- diving
- gymnastics
- flamingo flying
- ice skating
- ice sculptures
Of course, even the games that Oysters are familiar with may not be quite the same. Chess in Wonderland is a team sport, for example, with each member of the team filling a role as a chess piece and a coach as a strategist directing the plays. Attempting to capture one of the other team's pieces includes having to successfully win a fight against them. Gymnastics and diving competitors include growing and shrinking in size to their routines, ice sculptures come to life when they've been completed, artistic swimmers and ice skaters change costumes and swap partners in the blink of an eye.
If they're lucky, Oysters may find one of the competitors willing to show them the ropes. If they're even luckier, or more persistent, there may be a spot or two open on one of the teams that Oysters can slot themselves into. For the most part, team members will be delighted to have Oysters there.
"You all just feel so much," one may say, sounding a little awed.
"Show off those emotions, it'll get us points," another will add.
Although competitors are friendly, with Osyters and with each other, it's clear that most of them are here to win. Rivalries may flare up throughout the month, ex-lovers may be reunited and broken up again, infighting may spark among the teams — all things that can be soothed or exacerbated, for Oysters who may have inclinations towards utilizing such things to increase their chances of winning.
Or to fan the flames of drama for its own sake.
THE CALL
8/16
Starting in the early morning hours and continuing late into the night, any who left a message will get a call back.
Those who completed the poem will be greeted immediately by a friendly male voice, with an apology for the delay. "Ugh, our lines are backed up like crazy," the caller will say. "Where are you reporting in from?"
Those who somehow identified themselves as an Oyster, as residing in the hotel, from off world, being held by the Queen, or otherwise potentially against the Queen, will have their call returned by a cold female voice, guarded and wary.
"Show me your Oyster mark," the caller will request. "We can't risk giving you anything without proof."
Regardless of which caller contacts them, anyone who cooperates will receive similar information.
The friendly caller will readily provide assurances that the resistance base was not found, despite Mad March and the Order's attempt at reconnaissance in the old kingdom.
"Can't say much more than that over these channels, you know, but worry not! Everyone is safe. We have a follow up from the last mission — sorry about the air conditioning, you know, couldn't be helped — you ready for this? Keycodes. Access keycodes. Didn't get more than a handful, of course, and the intel is vague about what they access. Are we glad to get your call! How about it, you ready to try one out and see what information you can get?"
The guarded caller will allude to the Order not being able to find what they wanted out in the ruins.
"Did you think they took you out there to show you the sights? They're looking for us, obviously. No I'm not going to tell you more than that — just because you're an Oyster doesn't mean we can completely trust you. All right, look. Last time we broke into the hotel, we recovered a few access codes. We had to get out of there before we could find out what they accessed. How about a trade? We give you the code, you call us back and tell us what you find."
Those who completed the poem will be greeted immediately by a friendly male voice, with an apology for the delay. "Ugh, our lines are backed up like crazy," the caller will say. "Where are you reporting in from?"
Those who somehow identified themselves as an Oyster, as residing in the hotel, from off world, being held by the Queen, or otherwise potentially against the Queen, will have their call returned by a cold female voice, guarded and wary.
"Show me your Oyster mark," the caller will request. "We can't risk giving you anything without proof."
Regardless of which caller contacts them, anyone who cooperates will receive similar information.
The friendly caller will readily provide assurances that the resistance base was not found, despite Mad March and the Order's attempt at reconnaissance in the old kingdom.
"Can't say much more than that over these channels, you know, but worry not! Everyone is safe. We have a follow up from the last mission — sorry about the air conditioning, you know, couldn't be helped — you ready for this? Keycodes. Access keycodes. Didn't get more than a handful, of course, and the intel is vague about what they access. Are we glad to get your call! How about it, you ready to try one out and see what information you can get?"
The guarded caller will allude to the Order not being able to find what they wanted out in the ruins.
"Did you think they took you out there to show you the sights? They're looking for us, obviously. No I'm not going to tell you more than that — just because you're an Oyster doesn't mean we can completely trust you. All right, look. Last time we broke into the hotel, we recovered a few access codes. We had to get out of there before we could find out what they accessed. How about a trade? We give you the code, you call us back and tell us what you find."
INDULGENCE
8/13 - 8/23
Throughout the event, there will be a number of activities available alongside the games designed to encourage unwinding. A concert set up in the hotel lobby will kick off the start of the games, at which indulgence teas will be made available for the first time. They will continue to be served readily at all hours of the day. Enhanced spa facilities will be made available as well — dazzling pedicures and manicures with nail polish that can do anything from change colors based on your mood to emit light so bright it can function as a flashlight; makeup that gives you a kiss that will literally stun the recipient; aromatherapy that will cure any kind of hangover; oils that double as aphrodisiacs, for those interested; healing massages that will take away your aches and pains, wiping away any bruises or injuries with no questions asked. A clean slate, ready to indulge again.
Then, of course, there are the less official activities. Whispers will begin to spread about another kind of competition being run after hours, when all good competitors should be sleeping. No one quite knows who's running it — one person heard it was the coach of one of the chess teams, eager to get her players extra practice; another heard it was one of the chess players themselves; still another will say it is an ice skater, a flamingo pilot, a gymnast. After all, it hardly matters, does it, as long as it runs, and there is a fight every night? Oysters are welcomed into this competition as well, where the only rule is not to kill your opponent. Teas of all kinds exchange hands as bets are placed on the fights, and the champion is rumored to receive a truly spectacular prize.
If fighting is not to your speed, fear not. All of the competitors seem to have different ways to unwind after the games are completed for the day, and all are happy to allow Oysters to indulge in attending the various get-togethers and parties they host. The knight on one of the chess teams has the most renowned wine collection, and he's brought some of his finest with him to be enjoyed alongside cheeses and poetry. One of the swimmers is a passionate musician, and has recruited anyone who can play an instrument to discuss musical theory and play together. A croquet player is known for hosting the wildest parties, with free-flowing moonshine and sips of ecstacy tea readily available. There is a flamingo pilot with a book club, an archer who is a fabulous chef, a diver who is a skilled debater with a wicked tongue — whatever you like to indulge in, chances are, someone's throwing a party for it.
The games will end on the 23rd, with a roaring celebration of all who participated in the competition. The pool area will be taken over for the farewell party, with music, food, alcohol, and dancing available. It is here that the winners of the competitions will be announced, and prizes will be awarded.
Then, of course, there are the less official activities. Whispers will begin to spread about another kind of competition being run after hours, when all good competitors should be sleeping. No one quite knows who's running it — one person heard it was the coach of one of the chess teams, eager to get her players extra practice; another heard it was one of the chess players themselves; still another will say it is an ice skater, a flamingo pilot, a gymnast. After all, it hardly matters, does it, as long as it runs, and there is a fight every night? Oysters are welcomed into this competition as well, where the only rule is not to kill your opponent. Teas of all kinds exchange hands as bets are placed on the fights, and the champion is rumored to receive a truly spectacular prize.
If fighting is not to your speed, fear not. All of the competitors seem to have different ways to unwind after the games are completed for the day, and all are happy to allow Oysters to indulge in attending the various get-togethers and parties they host. The knight on one of the chess teams has the most renowned wine collection, and he's brought some of his finest with him to be enjoyed alongside cheeses and poetry. One of the swimmers is a passionate musician, and has recruited anyone who can play an instrument to discuss musical theory and play together. A croquet player is known for hosting the wildest parties, with free-flowing moonshine and sips of ecstacy tea readily available. There is a flamingo pilot with a book club, an archer who is a fabulous chef, a diver who is a skilled debater with a wicked tongue — whatever you like to indulge in, chances are, someone's throwing a party for it.
The games will end on the 23rd, with a roaring celebration of all who participated in the competition. The pool area will be taken over for the farewell party, with music, food, alcohol, and dancing available. It is here that the winners of the competitions will be announced, and prizes will be awarded.
If you have any questions, please leave them over here! Results for the access code sign ups and the distractions will go out on the 14th, so players have until then to sign up. Characters can use the keycodes to access areas and cause distractions from the 16th through the 23rd — and beyond, but after the final party they may no longer have an easy excuse. If you wish to have your character compete in one of the competitions for the prizes, you can sign up here! Winners will be RNGed.
© tessisamess
Jet Link | OTA
Jet certainly had a competitive streak, even he couldn't deny that. So while he was trying not to get too involved in the hotel's activities, the temptation to give into that streak and let off some steam he knew he had building up proved too much.
Others might run into him at the archery range where his aim was pretty spot-on, though he doubted he'd be anywhere good enough to actually win the thing. His specialty was guns and, while he knew how to shoot a bow, he'd hardly call himself an expert. Having his HUD for his accuracy and angle analysis probably didn't hurt, though.
Jet also tried his hand at the flamingo flying, though it paled in comparison to actually being able to fly himself, it gave enough of that rush to satiate the need to take to the air that was near-constant.
Of all the things he competed in, though, ice skating was the one he did the best at, ridiculous costume and all. The usually more rough persona Jet held around him seemed to melt away on the ice as he moved with grace and precision that spoke of experience and more than a little knowledge of dancing under his belt. Without the avenue of flight to make himself feel better under stress, the chance to fly across the ice, partner or no partner, put him more at ease than anything else in the hotel had so far. Though, anyone who might have caught him coming off the ice to speak to him would likely be met with a flushed face and more than a little embarrassment.
The Call
He knew the rhyme. Not for their resistance, but from old and long-dusty memories. The call had gone well enough, he supposed, but now the late hour and voice promising a sliver of hope had him restless and walking around. Things were quieter so late (or maybe early, he hadn't checked), especially with all the commotion going on right now. It was perfect for thinking, for going over his options. Should he try and team up with someone to see if they could learn something? Should he go-it alone? If he went alone, no one else ran the risk of getting caught with him.
If he went with someone...would it feel right or wrong for not being his team? Did he even have a right to miss them right now when he hadn't been working with them in so long? Why was this always the trap his thoughts fell into at godawful in the morning?
Finding an unobtrusive place to sit, Jet let his face fall into his hands with a sigh, thoughts jumbled and no one he trusted like that yet to bounce them off of.
Indulgence
Jet didn't need to try the weird (and probably gross) teas to indulge in certain things. He had plenty of reservations about what the hotel offered, but competition, fighting, and some quieter activities that jived with his interests back home were hard to resist.
Fight Club
As much fun as the other parts of the competition were, the fight club was the best part. This was more his speed and felt a lot like being a kid again, gang at his back, enemy to his front, fists raised and uncaring if a lip got split or nose broken. Some part of his mind sounded suspiciously like Doctor Gilmore when it reminded him there weren't any synthskin patches lying around for him, his fluids couldn't so easily be replaced, and his punch probably hit a lot harder than some other guys due to his metal skeletal system...but Jet was very good at ignoring Gilmore even when the Doc was around, his phantom self could buzz right off. He needed this.
"Come on, then, let's do this."
Music
He was thankful the musician had some instruments he was willing to let others play. Jet loved his harmonica, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of a guitar in his hands. He made sure the thing was tuned and sounded right before starting in on the chords of an old classic he'd always liked. If anyone were to join him or come close enough to draw his attention, he'd look up with a smile and a gesture for them to come in closer.
"Got a request?"
music
no subject
"Sure. I've got more." He starts into something else, just enjoying the feeling of the instrument in his hands again and a friend nearby to enjoy it with. When the song finishes, he looks back up to Aziraphale. "Do angels learn harp music or something like that? What kind of stuff do you listen to?"
no subject
"Ah, mostly I like to listen to classical and baroque, if I'm honest," he answers, after applauding once Jet is done. It really is a good performance! He does miss live music; nowadays it's all... too loud.
"Celestial melodies...." he rolls his eyes a little bit, doesn't even fight it. "Now I do play the harp, but only because it was required. But I don't see one, so we won't be able to duet!"
no subject
Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying them, though, and that was what mattered. He smirked a bit at the mention of classical and the stirrings of warmth and memory it brought to him. "Wish you could meet Albert, one of my family. He's all about that kind of music. Pretty sure he used to play the piano."
Jet partially held out the guitar to Aziraphale. "Wanna learn? I could teach you the basics. You'd probably like acoustic stuff."
no subject
His smile is always so bright and warm, because he feels genuinely excited. Even though he knows Jet is not a human, he often forgets, because he acts like a human and as far as Aziraphale is concerned feels like a human now that he doesn't have his powers.
And so, he sort of just groups Jet in with the rest of the humans, which, sometimes, is the highest compliment he can give.
no subject
Despite his more gruff tone, his words were teasing and gentle. It had less to do with Aziraphale actually learning and more to do with spending time with a friend in something he was at least a little passionate about.
"If you don't like it, we can call it quits."
no subject
Plus, would he really play the guitar? He has finely-manicured hands, and they are very soft, like he'd never done a day's work in his life.
no subject
After a moment, he looked up to his friend, his smile still in place, but tinged with his question. "You want to go back up there some time? This place isn't great, but if you could, would you go back up there?
no subject
"There's not really music in heaven. Only angelic choir. And no restaurants. No books!" He seems rather disappointed about this. "Just... clean halls, lots of angels. But listen to me ramble! Why don't you tell me about your home?"
Ice Skating
Shepard isn't the kind of person who gives compliments easily; she likes it that way, likes the idea of being thought of as someone with high standards. Her regard, as something to aspire to. So it means something when she tips her drink, appropriately hot for the purposes of the rink, in his direction.
"You made it look easy," she informed him, in the knowing way that said she knew that meant it very much wasn't, "Old hobby?"
no subject
Jet offered her a small smile despite his clear embarrassment before setting in to work on removing the skates. It had been nice to wear shoes for a short time, funny the things you missed when you weren't allowed to have them. "Thanks...didn't know anyone I knew was watching." Not that he would have stopped...but still.
"Yeah. Rockefeller Center every year, big lake freezes over and no one's really paying too much attention at night, it was easy enough to break in and skate around. Eventually, I did it legitimately, but that was how I learned. "You ever try it?"
no subject
Her earliest memories were of the streets, and surviving alone; by the time she had enough disposable income to maybe afford something like a pleasure-trip to a skating rink... Well, her biotics had manifested, and that kind of expenditure of calories, let alone of money, was beyond the pale. She'd never thought about it, beyond the cold-weather training the military had given her, barely necessary for someone who'd learned to shivering their way through Minnesota winters among the forgotten dregs of humanity.
"It's not really my speed anyways. But you seemed to be having fun."
no subject
"When I was little, I always wanted to fly. I liked heights and wind rushing past my face. Couldn't afford wheels and lifting them would've got me caught, but skates were easy and I put them back when I was done. Then I got the chance to fly, even if it came at a price, and skating became something fun to do to remember where I started. Now, they took my wings and this is all I've got again. They'll take this too, but it's what I've got for now."
He finished with the skates and set them aside. They could put them up, he wasn't going to bother. He stood and crossed his arms. "You want some company wherever you're sitting?"
no subject
It's almost like they expected someone to rabbit. Get it?
"They got hot cider, if you want it."
no subject
"Sounds good, I'll grab some." Which he does, in fact, do because why the hell would you turn down hot cider, even in this place? Once he's got the drink, she has his full attention again.
"What's on your mind?"
no subject
"What d'you make of March," She asks him, low. Everything echoes here, from the doors and the ice and the high vaulted ceiling, and that very public noise makes for a strange anonymity. No one could possibly approach or overhear without being seen, "I've got some thoughts, but I want to hear an outside opinion first."
The Call
It also doesn't surprise him at all that there's some kind of resistance going on outside of the hotel walls. If there's one thing he's learned from all of his various missions across the world, it's that there's always a group of some kind that opposes the current people in power.
He's just not sure he should be jumping into the middle of whatever's going on out there.
Going to sleep now is pretty much out of the question, so Sam'd opted to just head out for a walk around the hotel, try to clear his head.
It's - actually kind of a relief when he finds Jet.
"Can't sleep either?"
no subject
"Not even a little." Jet moved over on the couch-thing he'd settled on to give his friend space. "You want company or space?"
He knew he'd prefer the company, but he wasn't going to force it if Sam was more of the 'think alone' type like Joe or Albert.
no subject
"Company, absolutely. I learned a long time ago that it's much better than getting stuck inside my own head."
Not that he doesn't do that sometimes anyway, but the majority of the time he knows he does so much better with someone to be around. He drops down next to Jet, bumping his shoulder lightly against his in gratitude.
"Anything in particular?"
Because he wants Jet's opinion on the phone call he got, but - if Jet's awake and out here with something of his own going on, Sam'd much rather check in with him about that.
no subject
"Yeah..few things. Guess I'll start with the obvious one, the less complicated one. You get a call from some 'friends' recently?"
Sam was smart, Jet had little doubt he'd gotten in touch with these same freedom fighters as Jet had, but just in case that group had royally messed up in not contacting Sam, Jet wanted to be sure. Even if he didn't know, Jet had every intention of telling him.
no subject
So he nods instead, giving a little smile.
"Yeah, I did. Guess they got no respect for your beauty sleep, either." He runs a hand over his chin, making a little face as he turns his Empathy over in one hand. "I don't trust it, and I don't like that I'm pretty sure they're monitoring everything we do over these , but - what else have we got?"
Sam looks back up, seeking Jet's thoughts. He's pretty sure the answer is not much, but hell, if Jet's got ideas then Sam's all for it.
no subject
"It's probably a trap. If not for us, then for them. I don't trust them, but they're all we've got for in-home resistance. If we could trace their signal...get anything else on them, I'd feel a little better. If they're for real, though...then they're thinking the same about us."
Basically 'not much' with a side of frustration at the lack of tools he might normally have back home.
"If they come through on what they're offering, we can decide if the information was worth it. Even if we give 'em what we find, we should be careful. They could just as easily give us real information to get our guards down, then stab us in the back later."
Part of him sort of hated this was how he thought these days. Years with the NSA, thinking like a spy and acting like an agent had made things a lot more complicated than those years he just threw himself at a problem without thinking, the risks be damned.