[GP/EP] Check-in Day

[st_oneswidow]

The woodwinds in her collection were for noodling mostly, and the violin was for memory of her family, but when Curnen really wanted to play she turned again and again to her guitar. This would probably always be her best instrument. It was the first of the month, she’d been here over a year, and it was probably a check-in day. So she sat on the lawn with her instrument in her lap, sending out a subtle magic to call anyone stranded in their little world this way.

At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.

It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.

Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.

Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.

Comments

Assigned threads

[st_rongliketeflon]

Liz had been right. Tess had killed Alex. Tess had killed Alex. Maria felt bad that no one had believed Liz all this time. She felt bad she hadn't believed her. Some best friend I am

They were now racing to the desert to tell Max and the others.

"Liz, I am so sorry." She repeated again.

She turned her head and realized Liz was no longer beside her. Maria slammed on the brakes and her car went skidding.

"Liz?!" She said with on setting panic. "Liz!!"

Maria looked around. Liz just vanished. Maria unbuckled herself and stepped out of her car. While it looked like desert, it didn't look like New Mexico desert. Her flip-phone wasn't working.

Her eyes found the Inn.

"Okay, okay. I have no idea what just happened, but I need to get to a phone and we can figure this out." She said to herself.

Maria climbed back into the car and white-knuckle drove all the way to the inn. The parking lot was empty, but the hotel looked like it was open.

She hurried inside and was currently trying not to hyperventilate.

"Hello?? Hello!!" She said. "Anyone know where the payphone is?"

Re: Assigned threads - Meet w Vax

[st_abby]

Vax'ildan hadn't been much in the mood for rolling out on the welcome wagon. With Scanlan and Pike gone... He didn't know he had much heart left for anyone new, not just yet.

But he had come when he'd heard Curnen's song. And it had touched him, where he'd found a shadowed place against a tree to lean and listen, been a balm when he hadn't known what could have made him feel any better. And once the song had finished, he'd been debating if he shouldn't go to tell Curnen... There, on the road. What was that?

He stalked the girl that climbed out of the armored carriage at a just-discreet distance, even slipping soundlessly into the door behind her as she burst inside to find someone. "There's phones here," his soft voice explained with a bit of an accent. The speaker, as it turned out, was a lean fellow in black armor and feathered cloak, with long dark hair to match. "But it's more complicated than what you're thinking."

Re: Assigned threads - Meet w Vax

[st_rongliketeflon]

She turned and saw some dude in a Halloween costume.

"Sorry. Did I just, like, turn up to some sort of convention or something?" She asked. "Listen, I need to phone home. A friend of mine - well I don't know what happened, but I'm trying not to freak out right now, but I need help finding her."

Maria & Curnen

[st_oneswidow]

When Curnen had first arrived at the inn without Rob, she had been so determined to make him find her and yet so without song that she'd all but howled "Wayfaring Stranger" at the gathering dark without any words, without even remembering what the song was called. It had been Lindsey who'd given that back to her, starting what had at first been an agonizingly slow process.

She no longer thought Rob was going to find her here. For all that the night winds had brought them together, perhaps it had only been for that one purpose. To free her. To destroy Rockhouse. But she still sang it on arrival days, because it worked so well with the subtle magic she wove. Because she didn't want to forget.

Sitting cross-legged on the grass with her guitar in her lap, Curnen flowed from the last song she'd played into the old standard.

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world of woe
There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger
In that bright land to which I go
I'm going there to see my father
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just going over Jordan
I'm just going over home

Her voice soared high and clear, eyes closed in the enjoyment of the music. She'd been doing this for so long with most of the same people about that it felt entirely natural now. If she had any audience, she didn't notice.

Re: Maria & Curnen

[st_rongliketeflon]

Maria couldn't find Liz, but the man at the front desk confirmed she was here. She was probably busy doing something important which was typical of Liz.

She heard the music. It was pretty. She had never heard that song before. As she approached, Maria was all smiles. The person singing was also playing guitar.

She stood and watched.

Assigned Threads

[st_ranger]

All he had wanted was to buy some plums. Then suddenly, his face is on a newspaper and he's sure that people would come looking for him. While nobody was staring at him directly, the skin on the back of his neck crawled enough that he knew he had to get moving. Never stay in one place too long.

Of course, he had been there. It always ended up in a fight, even if he wanted to try to help him be otherwise. Come with him. Get out. Let the good Captain save him. There was no saving him. There was no going back to the way that things used to be between them. He saw what the museum said. He remembered snippets. There was a reason he'd pulled Steve out of the river, but he couldn't be the man Steve wanted him to be.

Suddenly, they were compromised. Men breached the dingy apartment, coming in through the door and the windows. Bucky turned, lifting his dirty mattress and using it for cover. His arms swung violently and he upended a table, watching it fly to the door in an attempt to block it and buy them some time. Swing right. Swing left. Block. It came as second nature to him.

Buck, stop! You're going to kill someone. Bucky shook his head, staring at the man in front of him. How badly did he want all the memories, the flashes in his mind to be true. Pushing the Captain to the ground, Bucky made a fist and punched the floorboard. Reaching in, he pulled out a black backpack and tossed it out the window. "I'm not going to kill anyone."

Bucky turned and punched a door, watching it fall to the ground and stepping over it. His eyes narrowed and he took a running leap, off the balcony and landing on a rooftop, dropping and rolling right next to his bug-out bag. Bucky grabbed it and turned right, taking another running leap off the roof to the next one.

Instead, Bucky blinked as he looked up from the pavement where he had landed. Suddenly, he wasn't in Berlin anymore. The former asset moved slowly, stalking the road as he tried to take in his surroundings. His good hand reached up, pulling the cap down lower over his face. It wasn't long before he appeared in front of something very pink. He frowned, not sure what else to do but go in.

He was slow, stealthy as he opened the door as little as possible and slipped through it. He wasn't sure where he was, but as long as there was nobody trying to capture him, he'd deal for now.

Re: Assigned Threads

[st_makemeastone]

Run. Hide. Don't let them find you. Hurts. Hurts to remember. No. No... No... Two by two hands of blue. Always coming.

Wto was running? She couldn't tell. For the first time in a long time she didn't know if what she was remembering and feeling was hers or belonged to someone else. Someone... Him?

She knew when she saw him enter the lobby that it was his, AND hers. Running.

But not here.

"They don't come looking here." She might be talking to him, or herself from her spot perched on a chair near the front desk. Trying to convince herself.

Bucky / Tony

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

For his first arrival day from the other side, it was just enough to draw Tony Stark from his Lair of Research--that being, of course, his room that he had little use for beyond utilizing as a workshop and the occasional caffeine crash nap. He had been more obsessive since the injury to himself and to his armor, leaving it on the fritz. Functional, but unreliable. Like a car that you could start without knowing if it'd pop a flat along the way.

Despite all that, it was useful to keep an eye on the goings-on of the Madonna Inn, especially on a momentous occasion. New arrivals, new faces to add to the database. Since F.R.I.D.A.Y. was disconnected from any useful cloud data, he had been accruing his own notes on each guest. Nothing weird, it just paid to know who you were dealing with.

Trying not to look too conspicuous, Tony studied himself in the lobby mirror. His glasses (nanoparticle composites) hid the bags and the thermos of coffee in hand would keep him alert enough for the next hour-or-however-long it took for people to trickle in. He smoothed his hair back. If something was worth doing, it was worth preening for.

In the reflection, Tony caught the outline of someone meandering aimlessly about. Welp, there was the lucky pick of the litter to hit things off with. Not without sweeping the bangs back, first. Few things communicated lack of preparation than constantly adjusting the 'do mid-conversation.

assigned threads!

[st_alkingherprey]

"Beta--Beta, I have told you not to do that."

Sighing, Allison leaned back against the kitchen counter, so she didn't have to lean on her fucking crutches, and shook her head as the little silky terrier and sleek black tomcat with pigmented corneas switched breakfast plates on her. It was a not uncommon occurrence, but considering that Beta was on a weight control dog food and Todd was taking glucosamine with his breakfast, it was a problem at least for the time being.

No matter--she'd give Todd treats later, and the glucosamine in Todd's food would be good for Beta's joints.

Letting the pair finish each other's food, Allison grabbed her crutches and started hobbling towards the bathroom, cursing the stupid cast that encased her foot for the millionth time. She hated not being able to hit the street, she hated the stupid plastic fucking bag she had to wear over the goddamn thing, she hated...

...crossing the threshold into the hallway of her apartment, Allison found herself outside.

The situation wasn't unfamiliar to her--once upon a time, it had been a train and not some dusty road, with a monstrous pink building looming in the distance, and a song on the air that stirred strange feelings, had her turning on her crutches to better face the distant structure, to start hobbling forward a few steps to go towards it.

The problem now was that she had a sinking feeling that came with knowing. That she wasn't where she was supposed to be, that she had no recourse, no escape...

That, for the second time in two years, she'd been taken from her home.

So she started hobbling along the crappy dirt road on crutches, with one bare foot and her cast getting filthier by the second--gathering dirt the way rage gathered in her chest, hot and cold at once, burning instead of hurting.

She didn't care about her cast, didn't care what she would look like as she approached what looked like a hotel in cutoffs and a sports bra, or the questions that she might raise with the scars littering her noticeably muscular bare arms and tattooed torso--among those being a couple of bullet grazes and plenty of old knife wounds. And that didn't even include the aged green and yellow bruise still marring her shoulder from the last bullet her body armor deflected, nor did it include the sheath clipped to the inside of her cutoffs, the handles of her ring daggers pressing a comforting weight into the small of her back.

Allison didn't care about a goddamn thing as she struggled up to the door--not the music that propelled her along the road, not the dust, not anything.

She only cared that she was further from home than she had ever been--not just Beacon Hills, but Darrow. Darrow was home now, with her cozy apartment and her pets and her blood soaked second life. She had friends like Tris, family like the Inseparables and Newt. Darrow was where she didn't have to struggle to belong.

She'd been taken from Darrow, and it hurt. It hurt like hell...but she'd endured far too much pain in her life to be able to survive more of it, more loss and grief and regret.

So no, she wasn't scared or aching for home.

As she furiously hobbled up towards the hotel, Allison Argent was seriously pissed off.

Allison & Snow

[st_arkcrowblack]

The anger and indignation were so thick in the air that Snow could almost smell them on the wind before she caught sight of anybody approaching the inn. And when she did look, she realized in some ways she could be looking at herself. Well. Except for the part where this was a white girl. But the part where she was torn up and torn away from everything and mad as hell, yeah, that Snow recognized. The part where they were of an age and covered in tokens from myriad fights--though Snow's own bruising and scars were hidden under overlarge clothing--yeah, that too.

There was a time not so long ago where she wouldn't have been even slightly that aware of what she could look like from the outside.

Now this was normally where Snow would make herself scarce and get herself back down to the stable. She didn't like dealing with new arrivals. Too often they needed her to be able to step carefully, something that reminded her either so much of displeasing her stepmother or so much of her inability to talk to people that she absolutely fucking hated it.

But somebody who was ready to punch her out just for being there? That was easy to understand. She could work with that.

She smoothed her hands over her two braids and headed down the path to meet the new girl. Snow wore a gun openly on her hip, but she made no move to draw or even touch it. It was only that she'd never had any success hiding Rose Red, and around here there was no point in hiding it, so she'd stopped bothering.

Re: assigned threads!

[st_ingofthehundred]

Since it was rare enough to see Snow choose to greet one of the newcomers, Kash didn't interrupt. Even though the girl was bruised and battered and hobbling around on some kind of half-cast and a pair of crutches that always looked like torture devices to him. She needed healing, but by the looks of things most of the healing she needed would be too late in coming anyway and a half an hour or however long it took Snow to do whatever Snow felt needed to be done wouldn't hurt anything.

So Kash kept an eye on the girls -- almost mirror images in the anger vibrating under their skins -- and let the little mare he had at the end of a lead line keep on with her grazing. She'd been spooked since the undead invasion, and even though he'd healed her, she'd been off her feed. He and Snow'd discovered she'd eat all right if there was a human there she trusted, so he was taking a break from the clinic and waiting on Z to wait on Snow, the new girl, and this pretty lady instead.

Eventually the girl was hobbling around on her own again. Kash put himself near her path but not on it. And called out, "Snow tell you to come find a healer?" At just under six feet, he wasn't a big man, but a girl who wore her scars like badges of honor, would read war and battle in his mismatched eyes and in his stance. The first forty-some of a hundred slash scars up one arm would draw the eyes.

Assigned Threads - Steve Rogers

[st_evengrantrogers]

It'd been a beautiful day when he started on his drive; partly cloudy with a light breeze. Steve had climbed onto his motorcycle this morning to take a drive up the California coast. He'd flown out here to clear his head after Peggy's funeral, to try and get his head back in the game. Going to Peggy's funeral and hearing Sharon Carter speak hit him a lot harder than he'd anticipated. There were a lot of conflicting emotions running around in there, ones that he wasn't sure how to handle. So Steve did something a little out of character for him: he ran away.

Then he did something even less in character: he got lost. With his gas tank running on nearly empty, he finally had to stop and ask for directions. He'd been on the road for hours and hours, and found himself completely and entirely lost. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened--and paper maps were an obsolete relic only slightly younger than he was. Natasha had shown him a couple of times how to use the map application on his phone, but he still wasn't used to the thing.

Twilight was gently falling when Steve pulled his motorcycle into the drive, parked, and started up toward the building. He'd noted the name of the hotel on the way in, but didn't think much of it. Madonna. The first connection he made in his head was to the Virgin Mary, not the pop singer. She'd come around way after his time, anyway.

This place looked interesting, and there were plenty of lights on in the windows. A sure sign of life. There must be someone inside who can help him find his way back to the interstate. Steve wasn't sure about things, though, as he headed inside the pink lobby. The concierge knew his name (then again, who didn't?) and insisted that he had a room here in this hotel.

Curiouser and curiouser. Instead of arguing the point, Steve gave a gentle, "thank you" and took the proffered key. Best to avoid conflict. Maybe there was someone else here that could help him figure all of this out. He turned to look around the lobby, wishing that he'd taken up Tony on the offer for more training on the blasted pocket computer. Then Steve decided to just get out of this place. He headed out to where he'd parked his bike... but the bike was gone.

Re: Assigned Threads - Steve Rogers & Caroline Forbes

[st_raighttovampire]

Check-in days were always interesting and this one had been busier than most. They were still trying to clean up after the attack, a bunch of new people had shown up, and Curnen had been breaking hearts all day with her amazing music. Caroline had ducked out of the lobby for a minute, just one minute, to get a coffee, and when she'd come back, she'd already missed another new arrival.

Grabbing a basket as she went, Caroline headed for the front door and slipped out after the most recent guest. She was confronted as she did with insane broad shoulders, a perfect V torso down to a trim waist and hips. She may have focused a few beats longer on the ass in tight jeans than she should have before she shook herself out of it and got back to business.

"Whatever you're thinking, the answer is probably weirder," she said with cheer but not much force. She didn't want to scare him. Just make him turn around to see if the face matched the body.

Steve/Alec - the halls

[st_x5_494]

Alec often avoided arrival day. It wasn't so much he was dreading people he knew arriving, it was more he knew people from his world would never come, so what was the point?

He could, however, still recognize a new arrival on spot. It helped he could literally remember everything, ever. Eidetic memories were fun sometimes and a bitch most of the other.

"Don't worry, buddy. You'll get used to all this crazy sooner or later."

Assigned Threads

[st_runningshoes]

Where is he? No, really where is he? This isn't the Farringham School for Boys. Panic and fear rush to his face. As his mind tries to understand but can't is completely overwhelmed. So, rather than face the reality of the situation decides denial is better.

Okay; this is a dream one of those dreams where he has those two hearts.

So - the magic blue box that transports him to a far-off place brought him here. After all, that's more logical than just randomly appearing in the middle of a dirt road.

It's a dream. He can roll with that.

The Adventurer decides since this is a dream, very obviously to venture onwards and comes across the hotel. So far so good and rather tame. None of those weird creatures - yet and John allows himself inside.

"Hello?"

Mary/John

[st_huntermom]

Mary made a basket of muffins for new arrivals and was just about to go back to the bakery for more when she saw the confused man enter. Her brow furrowed for a brief moment and then she offered a friendly smile.

"Hi. You must be new. I'm Mary."

OTA

[st_artliving]

As she sometimes did on arrival days, Xavin set herself up to make coffee in the café instead of the library. Hot beverages were soothing, and new arrivals often needed soothing. Hot beverage, a smile... and it helped, perhaps, that the smile could be delivered by a pretty girl or a pretty boy, depending on preferences.

John/ Xavin

[st_runningshoes]

John decided to grab a hot drink to have while he read; and brought some of the books with him; which included; The Atom and the Molecule which was published in 1916; Relativity: the Special and General Theory in 1916 and an Inventions of The Century (1900 - 1995) book on the table.

John has the Inventions of The Century book open; as well as a strange device lying next to him on the table with the books.

Sonar, hair dryers, hearing aids, frozen food, television - oh my!

What is he suppose to be doing? Oh, right finding his 'magic pen' that unlocks anything.

He's so captive by all this new information - it also doesn't cross his mind that in dreams you can't read or if you can it's limited or changes.

As far as looking up; he doesn't look up since he's used to being served. However, when he smells coffee gives something of a snob tone but at least at a polite face; at least John is making direct eye contact.

"Do you have any tea?"

Sorry, even if you are a pretty girl- can't considering the skin tone.

Re: OTA

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

Tony didn't so much sit on the stool so much as he fell onto it rear-end first. The thermos hit the counter with a 'thunk' and he apologized.

"Refill. Please. Something sweet."

OTA

[st_ranger]

Bucky Barnes wasn't normally a skittish man. In his past, he had been precise, trained and able to handle anything. This place, though, was surely testing his limits. There was a reason that he'd wanted to just run away and hide. Here, in this place, he wasn't sure hiding was going to be an option.

The woman he'd met had been helpful, if a bit troubling. She'd been able to give him the information that he needed, most of it anyway. He even wouldn't mind speaking with her again. He still wasn't sure about her, but he could relate to her on some level. They both were running from something. Tony, on the other hand, was not someone he has planned to run into. That was why Bucky was skittish. While he had not been hurt, the potential for it was there. If he could, he would surely give Stark a wide birth as much as he could.

Shrugging his shoulders, Bucky turned and made his way through the rest of the hotel. He would need to find his room, eventually. He had no idea who else he would run into in this mad place.

Bucky and Peter

[st_arkintern]

Peter was on his way to the vending machine when he spotted him.

A new person.

But not just any new person, a new person he knew.

Knew may have been a bit generous. The two of them had fought on opposite sides in Berlin. All Peter knew of him was that he was tough and strong and had a metal hand and was probably one of Cap's friends if he was fighting on his side.

Maybe he wouldn't have remembered him nearly as well as he did if he didn't have the metal arm. Or if he hadn't had Karen replay the whole fight in Berlin for him on the regular. But Peter was certain of it: this was definitely that guy he was fighting alongside the Falcon. The one whose identity was of much speculation on the superhero subreddit.

"Hey!" Peter says cheerily, trying to bite back the urge to start gushing about his arm right off the bat. He quickly pads towards Bucky, closing the space between them, and stops before he gets too close.

"You're new here, right? I'm Peter," he says, extending a hand for Bucky to shake. "Peter Parker."

Bucky and Loki

[st_ratagem]

Loki had missed the next check-in day after his own (busy actually checking in), so this was the first one to which he'd actually paid attention. He wasn't exactly sure how social he really wanted to be - there were enough people who knew who and what he actually was that any attempt to charm new arrivals would have to be conducted carefully - so he'd skulked around invisibly to get a feel for things. See if there was anything interesting enough to occupy him.

And sure enough! Interest presented itself early in the form of one of the new arrivals, and not just that: one who voluntarily separated himself from the herd. Loki recognized much of the way he moved, checking corners and watching everything: that was training. And of course, the metal arm added to the danger. And yet, the man practically bled worry, fear, anxiety.

Loki dropped his invisibility just inside of the man's peripheral vision. Not technically sneaking, but not exactly calculated to be soothing. When one expected something to happen, it was almost comforting when something did, even if it was a small thing. It made the anxiety familiar. "It may take a week or so to learn where everything is here. Are you looking for something in particular?"

Re: OTA

[st_onecoldfox]

Most check-in days, when he wasn't helping out in the kitchens, Mildmay tried to stay outta the way while keeping an eye on things, which wasn't much different from any other day at the inn. Except for the weight pressing on him, sometimes making it hard to breathe, like a echo of the obligation d'âme. Only this time it wasn't no spell, just hope he hadn't been able to shake, that this time, Felix might show up. Although powers help the people here if he did.

About the only the thing new guy walking down the corridor had in common with Felix was being a guy and the corpse-white skin that'd made Mildmay and Felix both stand out Mélusine, but was the norm around here. If anything, he reminded Mildmay more of himself when he got spooked. Trying to watch out for everything at once, braced for something bad to happen at any time.

Looking up from the atlas in his lap, he didn't smile – the scar running the left side of his face from lip to hairline meant he never smiled – but he was relaxed at least. "Learning your way around?" he asked, the words slow, careful not to slur too much to be understood.

Steve and Bucky

[st_evengrantrogers]

It’d been a whirlwind couple of days for Steve. Peggy’s funeral came and went, and before he’d had a chance to figure out those feelings, he’d met up with Sharon Carter again. The pretty nurse who lived across the hall. Turns out Agent 13 was Peggy Carter’s niece? Steve had taken the weekend, flown back out to California, and gone on a road trip to clear his head. But that road trip ended in a strange imprisonment, as he’d nearly ran out of gas and stopped to ask for directions. What sounded like the start of a strange horror film, was actually the next adventure in Steve Rogers’ life.

After a few conversations with the local residents, and spending part of the day walking as far as he could in every direction, Steve had started to come to terms with his current situation. As much as one could. He’d tried getting his cell phone to work, but having left the charger back at his motel in Los Angeles, he was rapidly running out of batteries. There were phones at the hotel, but none of them connected to any numbers he remembered.

Steve had to figure out what to do. But he also had to survive. Eating, sleeping, and connecting with other people were his top priorities while he wrapped his head around this new, whole mess.

So he was outside the restaurant looking at the day’s specials. “Roast chicken,” he read aloud. He wondered if there were vegetables available. Or bread. Or anything besides chicken. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a shiver went down his spine.

Re: OTA

[st_rangepalette]

Lillith felt the pull of Curnen's magic and, recognizing it for what it was, she put down the necklace of prayer beads she had been laying spells into and ventured out to listen. Although she missed both Scanlan and Pike after a fashion, she could not help but note her own relief at not having to walk a careful line between her family from home and the family she had chosen in Curnen. It seemed even moreso right that she should come out to hear Curnen's song and share a smile with her in gratitude for the offering.

What she had not done, because she felt it would dishonor her departed friends, was veil herself, although she most often did on check-in days so not to frighten the newcomers. She had not intended to stay long, nor did she, but as she left the front lawn, she had immediate cause to regret her choice not to veil, for there before her was a newcomer, one with sad but pretty eyes, who looked about as though he mistrusted everything he saw.

She could drop a veil over her Tiefling form, but to do so would likely only challenge his perception of reality more. In lieu of attempting deceit, she softened into a gentle smile (one that did not show her fangs), and paused to thank Mystra that her dress obscured most of her inhuman legs, if not her tail.

"Hello. You are new, I think. I am Lillith. Please do not be frightened. I mean you no harm."