st_hotflashes: (serious realization)
[personal profile] st_hotflashes
When Liz woke up in the morning, she didn't think anything of the fact that Peter wasn't beside her - he normally went to make muffins the mornings they spent the night tonight. Liz knew, too, that it was arrival day and she was scheduled to work so it made sense for the early morning. After she showered and dressed and Peter still hadn't come back, Liz had gone to the kitchens. Mary was doing some baking for the day and told her she hadn't seen Peter all morning. Bo was going through the stock under the bar - she also hadn't seen Peter. When Liz went to Peter's room and Alec confirmed that he wasn't there, she started to get worried. Instead of continuing her search, she went to the front desk.

"I'd like to find out what room Peter Parker is in." She took a deep breath and when the man behind the desk said there was no 'Peter Parker' staying at the inn, Liz's world world closed in around her. She stood there staring at the man blankly - she stood there for a while until Alec showed up and asked about Peter. Liz was pretty sure she shook her head, but she couldn't be sure. A few minutes later, Liz forced herself to move and find Ned.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on and Mary decided more baked goods would be better for today, again. It seemed like arrival day was turning into 'departure date' and that was troubling. Selfishly, of course, she made sure her boys were still here, including James, and even River. Once that was confirmed, she decided to take over most of Liz's duties today - she was going to be useless in her current state.
st_artliving: (girl smile)
[personal profile] st_artliving
June, Xavin decided, was a puzzling month. It still seemed like spring in some ways, but was very summer already in others. Among the ways that it was summer: less demand for hot drinks. And yes, she could do iced, but that tended to mean hauling ice to her coffee-cart territory and that got old fast.

Since it was arrival day, therefore, she was trying something new. She’d taken over part of the cafe (with a decentish view of the lobby) and set it up with blenders, fruits, and other things. Surely smoothies would be acceptable, and the cafe space meant not having to haul ice.

As a further acknowledgement of probable sun and warmth, Xavin ensured there were obvious stacks of towels near the more usual baskets of things for new arrivals. If there were any newcomers and she’d forgotten something, well... it would probably be all right eventually.
st_rikingblueeyes: (Dreaming big)
[personal profile] st_rikingblueeyes
Two years.

When Corbie had her first anniversary at the inn, it had stalked behind her with such slow, certain dread that she had hardly been able to face the day. This second year had crept up so quietly that she hadn't noticed it until it was upon her, until she sat stitching in the sunlight. Maybe it was because she'd been too worried about Jackson to focus on moping.

The repair she was making was unnecessary. She'd torn the hole in this skirt herself. But she was sure she'd figured out the delicate work she needed to pull it off. With each stitch she made the hole didn't close, but vanish beneath a very minor illusion she put and anchored to the cloth through the thread. When she was done, neither sight nor touch should reveal any damage had ever been done.

Was this as much of an accomplishment as it felt? She thought it was pretty nifty.
st_oriedqueen: (the light I chase)
[personal profile] st_oriedqueen
Finished with self-imposed paperwork and emergency planning for the week, Regina permitted herself a leisurely ride on this absolutely gorgeous spring day. After a good gallop, Grace was content to walk, cropping at dried scrub and new shoots when Regina gave her rein. Regina steered the mare gently toward the west; she could teleport, of course, but she appreciated the quiet of riding toward the beach. She found, in the wake of Henry's Christmas visit, she more often craved the scent of the salt air and ocean breezes. Of course, the Pacific never quite smelled like the Atlantic, always warmer and less bracing somehow, but it soothed the wildness in her just the same.

Back at the Inn, Kitty busied herself with stocking the pool bar and generally setting up for the warmer seasons. The pool had been skimmed of winter detritus and chlorinated by the staff-spectre she rarely if ever saw, and there were fresh towels set out like a proper resort. Since the choice of music was hers, the air around the bar filled with dance beats, Afro-Caribbean today, and Kitty moved right into it. She didn't usually dance at work, but she felt bright today and maybe Lara would come down and work with her and they could goof around Cocktail style.

Sam passed through the Copper Cafe in search of a cup of coffee and a salad, or one of the two gorgeous women he'd somehow wound up involved with. His brow scrunched like a caterpillar hurrying away from a predator while he semi-consciously outpaced thoughts about babies and brothers, and possibly babies and girlfriends. His mild scowl wasn't helped by the pack of spirits trailing him and chatting at him about the lives of his family members. He'd asked them not to gossip about people he wasn't close with, but as a consequence, they talked rapidly and often about River's most recent oddness or his mother and Hathaway acting like...well, like him and Molly and Bo, and no thanks. Ditto on Dean and Jane. For all that he looked a little bothered, there wasn't anything menacing or aggressive about it. If anything, the slight tilt of his head as he strolled through the Inn looked thoughtful, as though he listened to something somewhat distant.

Lillith had come to a bit of a routine for arrival days, and around noon, she sat for tea with River Song. They spoke little, and it was difficult to tell whether the women even liked each other. But for all that, Lillith was content with the ritual. If Curnen sang, she would go out to the lawn next and listen. In fact, on such a sunny day, she would undoubtedly flop on the lawn with a sketchbook and a practice notebook, letting her mind float between image and spellcraft as it would. Out here, she would quickly veil herself at the approach of anyone new, but she often was distracted enough that they might catch her in her true form with her all unaware.

Around them, the Inn hummed and buzzed with the happy energy of winter giving way to spring. The most patient and subtle would undoubtedly note the undercurrents of tension, fear, frustration, and boredom that built up over time. But for day, at least so far as this four were aware, the worst of it had been suspended, in favor of enjoying warm sun and the company of friends.

[OOC: GP. It's a gorgeous day. Come and play! All four of mine can be available. Ping me if you're inspired to tag. <3 Welcome, Carol, Toby, and Number Five!]
st_oneswidow: (Guitar)
[personal profile] st_oneswidow
The wheel of the year turned and turned and Curnen found herself at an anniversary of sorts that she flatly didn't want to be remembering but got stuck on a loop of anyway.

This time there was no taking the hell off into the wilderness, though. Nor were there endless, circular recitations of "The Queen of Argyll." Rather than be poisoned by the memory of someone she still hated like everloving fuck, she focused on remembering the friend she'd lost. And besides this being Kash's song, she figured it was never a bad time around here for "John Barleycorn." Perched on the roof with her guitar, she sang of John Barleycorn's dying and rising again, subtle magic weaving into her voice to lead anyone lost in their little bubble world this way.

There was three men come out of the west their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die,
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, threw clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn oath John Barleycorn was dead.


It was Kash's song, in her mind, but you talked to half the people around here and it wasn't a bad fit for them, either. From her vantage point, she watched the road.

NYE

Dec. 31st, 2018 09:00 pm
st_raighttovampire: (Golden girl)
[personal profile] st_raighttovampire
 If a thing done more than once could be said to be a tradition, then tradition was observed. The restaurant was set for a party, overflowing with whatever the cooks and bakers of the inn had chosen to create. The bar was stocked from the wine cellar. The bartenders had created a couple of special New Year's cocktails for the occasion in addition to the usual champagne: Blue "Drunk Jack Frosties", frothy pink "Mistletoe Margaritas" and warm boozy hot cocoa.
 
Caroline had tried to convince each of the guests she knew had musical talent to perform, at least a song or two, but had a playlist ready in case they didn't. For those without their own instruments, the karaoke machine was set up in the lobby, conveniently near the bar so one could find courage as needed first.
 
Between Christmas and today, the decorations had been changed out - the tree was still there of course, and the mistletoe. But now golds and silvers dominated the colors of the streamers. Sparkling snowflakes dangled and sprays of gold stars. A banner hung over Darryl's head, wishing any who glanced his way a Happy New Year! There was even a disco ball, dug out from some storage closest, turning slowly and sending little shards of light dancing over the pink rose carpet.
 
Even from the outside, the inn radiated good cheer and hope for the future, as if by sheer will, they could all make it so.
st_argateman: (dot dot dot)
[personal profile] st_argateman
Jack had a lot of confidence in his team back home. Despite not seeing a sign or a way out since his own arrival, Jack held out hope that maybe one of the arrival days would see the rest of SG-1 at the inn. He knew that was selfish, of course, and it was only a small part of him that wished his friends to be stuck in such a place with him. Another part of him felt certain if Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c we're here, they could find a way home quicker.

For now, Jack decided to hang out in the lobby to keep an eye on the door. It looked as if Mary had an array of cookies and muffins out as usual and he was pretty sure he saw Caroline flitting around with a welcome basket. Kitty was behind the bar ready to help anyone who was having a hard time coping.

At least if people showed up today, it would look welcoming.
st_alksthroughwalls: (dancer)
[personal profile] st_alksthroughwalls
Burning up whenever she'd 'lived' too long was hella inconvenient.

Terrifying the first few times, too, but once she got used to that, it wasn't that different from becoming insubstantial. But being reborn from ashes? That full on sucked. Not because it hurt particularly. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but neither were the pointe shoes and the headdress she'd taken from the box to go with the Firebird costume she'd been working on for the last few months.

No, the part of being reborn from ashes that sucked was the mouth, eyes, ears, nose and other mucus membranes coated in ashes that came with it. Gross trumped uncomfortable and inconvenient any day. And the worst part was that if she tried to get herself totally cleaned up, she barely had enough time to do anything before she was ashes again.

Tending bar with bird claws was damn near impossible as it was. So by the time the newcomer arrived, she'd given up and taken to drifting lazily on the warm currents. She burned up less often that way.



[ OOC: Feel free to use this post for any November 1 costume related needs, but Kitty is only available for Valkyrie. ]
st_abby: (paladin_wings)
[personal profile] st_abby
The damp, cool, chilly morning clouded with fog seemed to fit the mood about the Madonna Inn. Nobody had been quite right since the undead invasion. Definitely not Vax'ildan. But for him, it was less about their sense of day-to-day calm and safety shattered, less about undead specifically. It was a lot more to do with losing Scanlan and Pike, and the new memorials installed in the Temple.

He wondered about it, not for the first time, even as he readied for the fresh arrivals that might be coming today - or not, because they didn't always. What decided who came and went? Was there any sense in how many and when or why? Not so far as he could tell, but he'd never been the brains.

Gathering up the great heap of cloth and rope in his arms, the lean figure summoned the wings of his armor, the black of his silhouette merging with the other dark and shifting shapes skulking about in the first light of dawn. With a crouch and a lunge from the roof, he spread his wings wide and circled through the air right up to the face of the main building, unfurling the massive banner he'd sewn of spare bedsheets and painted with dark dye to tie it up taut:

WELCOME NEWCOMERS
YES, THIS MEANS YOU
NO REALLY WE'RE SURE


Life kept going on around you, no matter how confused or scared or fucked-up you were. And the best thing, the kindest thing, the sanest thing he could think to do in all this was to start up the coffee machine, stack some decorated pumpkin-shaped cookies on a platter in the lobby, and prop open the doors for whoever would join them in being confused and scared and fucked-up today.
st_hotflashes: (Study)
[personal profile] st_hotflashes
Liz was starting to get better at the whole check-in day stuff. She knew she hadn't seen 'everything' yet, but she was learning from watching Kitty and Caroline and the others how to approach distressed, confused, and even angry people. It wasn't always perfect, but she was getting better.

With the help from the bakery, there were muffins on trays in the lobby - Mary had insisted. She insisted on coming in every once in a while to restock the trays too.

Liz had helped bring another tray to the front desk and then moved to sit at one of the couches that had a view of the front doors. She had a complicated science essay for Kitty due in a week and Liz was having trouble finding the right wording to express her thoughts.

Every once in a while, Liz would look up to see if there was someone knew approaching. There could be no one today or there could be a lot. Briefly, she wondered if someone else from home would show up. A part of her was curious who that would be, but she found a larger part of herself was hoping no one else would.
st_oneswidow: (Fae)
[personal profile] 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.
st_igmatized: (Upset)
[personal profile] st_igmatized
So the door to Safari Room had been blown clean off its hinges and the remains of a king-size bed were on fire in the parking lot by building three, but Sunny was totally fine. This was fine.

It wasn't like she'd spent weeks tinkering at another idea to get the hell out of here that had completely failed just this morning. It wasn't like she was about to turn twenty-four in this place. It wasn't like she felt a chasm of misery and loneliness in her belly threatening to open wider and swallow her whole from the inside. It wasn't like she'd just thrown an unholy screaming fit and smashed anything that could take smashing before throwing that second goddamn bed that mocked her with its emptiness straight through the wall and then set it ablaze.

She was completely fine.

Of course, in the midst of all that it had completely slipped her mind until she saw an unfamiliar face or two that today was potentially an arrival day. And then for a flicker of an instant she was ashamed. But it died quickly.

"Shit." She needed a drink.
st_alksthroughwalls: (coffee and read)
[personal profile] st_alksthroughwalls
Kitty sat at the bar with a cup of coffee and her notebook, watching the 'welcoming committee' make themselves busy. Liz was here, as she'd promised Kitty she would be and Kitty gave her a quick smile of encouragement.

One of the worst things about Check-In Days was that you never knew whether it'd be a whole long day of no one arriving, one spectacular fall from the ceiling and dropping dead after another, or anything in between. It made it hard to know what to do with yourself. After awhile, you got used to it and just kept on with whatever you'd do otherwise, and know that if you didn't step up for a new arrival, someone else would. But for someone not used to treating it like a responsibility to be here, especially someone with Liz's anxious need to be perfect at it, Check-In Day could be emotionally exhausting.

So Kitty made sure to have milk warmed for hot cocoa and her plans for the obstacle course handy in case Liz needed something to do with herself. Otherwise, she was working on a modification of Cerebro to see if she could start detecting new arrivals.


[ooc: Regular check-in day gathering post. If you want Kitty, ping me.]
st_igmatized: (Blaxploitation)
[personal profile] st_igmatized
It was a musical day at the Madonna Inn, both inside and out. Curnen had taken her usual place up on the roof and was singing charms to the sky to keep any wanderers from getting lost (though that part of it was not immediately obvious). Unrelated to that, Sunny was on the dance floor in the bar, summoning songs of her own with her knife to keep her moving before she went to do her shift at the library later. It was one of those days where if she thought about it too hard she’d start thinking about that empty bed in her shitty room and the person she most wanted to be there.

This of course eventually seeped into her magic. She knew better. Maybe she’d even wanted that to happen.

Because just once, between different pop hits and dance beats came a rather unexpected French love song. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the exasperation didn’t last. Before the lyrics started up she was waltzing. By herself and not caring how it might have looked. And for those three and a half minutes, she dared let herself hope for the slimmest chance that Orlu might come through that door.

She didn’t let herself hope too hard, though. There was admitting to feeling things and there was setting yourself up for certain disappointment. She’d lived too long with disappointment to do that to herself.
st_oriedqueen: (Default)
[personal profile] st_oriedqueen
May 1, International Labourer's Day, May Day.

As a girl, Regina had always wanted to attend the dances in the village, to hold a string and decorate the Maypole. Her mother had always said it was inappropriate. The one time she'd tried to go, her mother had trapped her in her room.

What had her thinking about May Day today, though, was the sheer volume of cakes and pies in the Slayer's Cake and the Copper Cafe. She'd even behaved cordially in the kitchen with Emma, when making an apple turnover and apple fritters to honor Ignis. He hadn't had much success in teaching her to cook, but she'd miss his even-tempered way with her.

She wasn't entirely sure whether it was May Day or Ignis or the frost broken during Bad Girls karaoke with Bo that had her sitting in the cafe today, and for once, she didn't particularly care. She was here, out among the people she considered hers, enjoying them--even if they never knew it.


[Regina isn't EPing. This is your regular check-in day GP.]
st_alksthroughwalls: (research frustration)
[personal profile] st_alksthroughwalls
The morning sun broke through leftover clouds, warming their backs as they ran. They'd been keeping up a running banter on the subject of Easter, Passover, and April Fool's Day, and what the Inn might do about any of them.

"Head first, obviously," Steph said, as they topped a rise.

"Totally. Feet first is just cruel," Kitty agreed, even though she was hardly an expert on the subject of chocolate Easter bunnies.

"Anyway, it's just not Easter without peep-jousting."

"Hey, it could happen." Kitty winced at the image of giant peeps having a medieval tournament on the main lawn and Ghostbusters-style marshmallow goo everywhere. An almost literal shudder passed over her at another thought, "Pray we don't get April Fool's versions of the Ten Plagues."

"That doesn't sound like comedy," Steph said.

"My point exactly." They hit the end of their route and turned to head back. "The Inn only thinks it's funny."

A few minutes passed in near silence as Kitty thought about all the ways this could go horribly wrong. Steph's, "Huh," broke her contemplation, and she followed the direction of Steph's pointing.

"Somehow," Steph said, "I didn't think an Easter egg hunt was even an option."

* * *
Whether Steph and Kitty were the first to discover the brightly colored eggs that didn't seem to want to open or not, they were definitely not the only ones. By the time they hauled a few eggs back to the cafe, showered and returned, the eggs were starting to pile up. So far, none of them were open, even though there were clearly items of varying weights inside.

"I really hope those aren't new arrivals," Kitty said to no one in particular, because there were just too many ways the Inn could play with death, dough, risen and rise.
st_andingtall: (Default)
[personal profile] st_andingtall
Caroline's see you around had turned out to be more like I won't see you if I can help it, and Sam had more or less accepted that was how it had to be for the time being. That didn't mean he wouldn't try to be around when he knew she would, just to say hi. Which meant that being around on Check-In Days was just plain smart.

Today, he happened to be reading a history of Asphodel Station, trying to understand this place that they'd found themselves connected to. So, if Caroline had come through, he actually hadn't seen her. He did see Regina when she came through to get her usual chicken Caesar salad, mostly because she stopped beside him and looked down at the book he was reading.

"That doesn't have an enchantment on it," she said, in a way he assumed was a question about its provenance. The implication there was that if it was from the library, it would have one of Illyana's enchantments on it.

"No," Sam answered her. "It's from the station. A history."

Regina frowned and crossed her arms. "How are you reading it?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Psychic paper or something? It seems to be English."

Her gaze scoured the page and lit on the header which read, The Field of Flowers: Volume 1, Asphodel. "When you're done with it--"

"Yeah, I'll leave it in your office."

She nodded, walked off, and then turned back to offer, "Thank you," and continued on her way.

Sam shrugged. If she wanted to tangle with Illyana over the proper procedures for new books, he wasn't going to get in the middle of it. He was just an acquisition agent, nothing more. And today he wasn't even that. He was just a guy reading a book, waiting to see if anyone new showed up today.
st_oneswidow: (Singing)
[personal profile] st_oneswidow
At some point when she wasn't paying attention, this had become something of a ritual in Curnen's life. The days where they might expect people to turn up at the inn, she'd be on the roof of the main building singing up at the sky. It wasn't like winter was really a barrier here. It wasn't like winter was really happening. But a body could get awful far away from the inn and not know quite where to go.

Besides, it felt good, really letting her voice out in full force. She knew people could hear her all over the grounds, but it didn't feel like having an audience.

She'd picked this one up in Maine, and while it wasn't an obvious choice for any sort of come this way sort of magic, it was a work song. The kind of thing with an easy pattern that anybody could pick up.

Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
And we'll all hang on behind...

And we'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
We'll ro-o-oll the golden chariot along!
We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
And we'll all hang on behind!


Come on here. You'd be all right.
st_rangepalette: (violet girl)
[personal profile] st_rangepalette
Emma had said, during Winter's Crest, that she missed a tradition from home called réveillon. She seemed also to miss her cousin, as Lillith missed hers. Since she wished both to learn to cook and to be of comfort to her friend, it had been decided they would make a réveillon dinner for New Year's Eve.

Yet when Emma began to lay out the courses -- oyster soup and potato & leek soup, salad, a gumbo, venison roast, cheeses, and creme brulee, plus several hors d'ouevres not yet decided -- Lillith quailed at the size of the undertaking. Surely she would wish someone to assist who could contribute more than roasted rabbit, wheat or potato flour dumplings, and koláč.

Since Sunny likewise missed her family and would certainly wish a distraction, when she entered the cafe where they were planning, the other two seized upon her almost at once. Sunny could hardly resist their dual entreaty, even had she wished to, and Lillith thought she seemed even more ready for company than previously. Of course Sunny had offerings of her own: jolloff rice, peppered chicken, and fried plantain.

Between they three, the planning and the cooking were very nearly merry, and Lillith kept them liberally supplied with champagne (her personal favorite), too. By late afternoon of the eve of the new year, they had begun lining tables with dishes, and enlisted the help of other friends to make the evening event widely known.

Of course, in addition to the réveillon feast that took over the steakhouse, alcohol flowed freely, lights sparkled brightly, the nightclub had music for dancing. And at some point the Inn or Caroline or Regina hung mistletoe from several of the primary entrances and exits so that unless one wished to or was unaware of the tradition, no one (not even any new arrivals) need greet the new year unkissed.
st_alksthroughwalls: (coffee and read)
[personal profile] st_alksthroughwalls
Every check-in day conjured memories of her first, and all of the others, which inevitably meant she spent the day with Lara on her mind, and Petey, Illyana, and Wyatt. She'd been blessed with dear friends and loves arriving, and yet she never stopped hoping she'd figure out the mess that was this pocket universe and get home.

It was starting to become complicated, though, almost a year later. It would hurt to lose the people she'd grown fond of here, almost as much as it would be good to get home. She didn't know what to do with that feeling, but it was what it was. All she could do was tend the bar with patience and understanding, and keep an eye on the readings her crude energy measuring devices out on the road sent to her.

For all the people that came in and out, it was a quiet day. So between drinks, she spent most of it bent over a notebook with a cup of coffee in her hand, trying to design better instruments to dismantle Yana's shackles. Maybe Percy could help her build them.

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