route_1065 | Cue sax of the yackety variety.

Current Location: Goldenrod City Hotel

Entry tags:

Cue sax of the yackety variety.

Who: Anyone in the Goldenrod Hotel
Where: The Goldenrod City Hotel
When: Starting at 5:00 PM on December 19th and ending at 4:00 AM on December 20th.
Summary: POWER OUTAGE IN THE GOLDENROD CITY HOTEL. See here for details!
Rating: Probably PG to PG-13.
Log:
A pair of deep, enormous red eyes sat in front of the receptionist and stared, intensely.

The receptionist pursed her lips and frowned, staring back through a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

Claudy's enormously fluffy feet were reflected neatly on the glossy countertop, as were the wickedly-sharp talons that stuck out of them.

Those were the main things keeping the unfortunate receptionist on duty from shooing the owl Pokemon, although the beak wasn't much of an incentive, either.

"Um... young lady," she said hesitantly, trying to lean around the large bird, her chair creaking. "The lobby is intended to be a space for EVERYBODY..."

"And it still IS a space for everybody," Heather said, unloading a shoulderful of soft, folded blankets onto one of the lobby's sofas and dusting her hands off. Several other blankets had already been partially tied up over the back of the couch and stretched out to attach at the corners to rows of chairs that were painstakingly arranged in aesthetically-pleasing, tunnel-wall-like patterns. There were also the beginnings of several pillow-built barricades, and even some large cardboard boxes standing by on reserve, should the pillows run out before construction was complete. "It's just a COOLER space for everybody."

The receptionist's frown grew and she sighed, rubbing her temples and trying to ignore the Noctowl's unblinking stare. She was fairly certain that it had been placed there SOLELY to distract her from stopping the construction of 'New Lobby'-- and it was doing a fairly good job.

Why did the difficult visitors ALWAYS come downstairs while SHE was on desk duty?

Meanwhile, the wind howled outside, piling snow against the glass doors to the outside and plastering against the windows-- not that there was much to see out there, besides flying snow. It blotted out even the rest of the city's lights, which normally lit up the plaza outside like daylight even after dusk.

"Miss, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to take all that down," she said for the fifth time in the past half-hour, and as usual, she was completely ignored as the scruffy blond girl tied a few more blankets up (with some difficulty due to her bandaged hands).

Biting her lip, she started to stand up.

Maybe if she just went over and started... taking all the blankets down herself--

And then suddenly, there was a low mooooooan of electricity deciding spontaneously that life wasn't worth it anymore and turning itself off.

The lights went out.

Silence reigned in the lobby.

.... for about five seconds.

"Oh my goodness..."

"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED--"

"/OLD WOMAN OWL SCREAM"

_{[Feel free to make your own threads! They can be down in the lobby, they can be up in the rooms, they can be anywhere! Is your character in the bathroom plucking their eyebrows when the lights go out? WE WANNA HEAR ABOUT IT, SO GO FOR IT. Are they falling down the stairs? POST THAT SHIT.]

[Threadhopping/jacking is totally encouraged, so TAG AROUND TO YOUR HEART'S CONTENT, MY DUDES. If your own thread isn't getting replies right away, go ahead and jump in somewhere else! Look out for other characters in the same areas as yours-- lobby, hallways, staircases, etc! Have fun!]}

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One hand holding his nose, the other tightly gripping the balustrade of the stairwell, Artemis scrutinized the dark infront of him, getting ready to take his first step into the unknown.

Heading down into the dark, never a good decision.

Just as he raised his foot to gage whereabouts and how steep the stairs would be, he heard a voice from somewhere in the proximity.

Recognizing the voice, Artemis placed his foot back down and opened his mouth to speak, before pausing to quickly release his nose, he didn't need Heather mocking him for sounding like a cold-ridden four year old.

"Perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern." He addressed the odd, Heather-looking mass of darkness that he could now see making its way ungracefully up the stairs.

Good call, Artemis. Good call.

Also, chalk one up for another person who she hadn't previously realized was staying in the hotel, but probably should have, because seriously, who wanted to sleep in the Center in such a big city.

"Youuuuu ... sure? What even happened?"

Aside from falling down the stairs in the dark. Which was actually kind of an obvious conclusion now that she thought of it. Derp.

"Uh-- never mind. Anyway."

She jerked her thumb downstairs.

"There's stuff going on down in the lobby. Candles being lit and stuff."

He raised an eyebrow at her question, couldn't she guess what had happened? Well, she might not even be able to make out his expression in this darkness anyway, which was good, it meant she wouldn't see the nice shade of red his nose was turning either.

As she moved the conversation on he was finally able to make out some of her basic facial features.

"You make it sound like a seance of some sort."

He paused and peered at her face for a moment before glancing down the stairs, which looked more like a bottomless pit in this lighting.

"Have they explained what has happened yet?"

There's a pause.

"... Well, I always DID think the staff here seemed rather unholy and ghostlike. Now we know where they get their powers."

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder down the blackened stairwell.

"But no, seriously, the power just totally went out. Probably 'cause of the storm."

"Heather, you do understand that generators and electrical devices don't just stop working when there's a storm? Something that's often caused by the storm actually has to happen."

That may have been a little over indulgent in the sarcasm department, but the stinging in his nose was making him irritable.

"...."

Even in the darkness, you can FEEL the dullness of her stare.

"... Pardon me. The storm must have caused something to happen that IN TURN, caused the power to go out."

"You're excused." There was a tone in his voice that suggested a smirk was playing in his lips.

"Well, at least I can see where I'm going to some degree." As he moved to step past her and head down the stairs he was (partially) ashamed to admit to himself that even he wasn't immune to bouts of childish behavior. "Though, I'm sad to say I still can't quite make out that wonderful speckled pattern that graces your features."

With that, he started down the stairs at a somewhat reckless brisk pace for someone with impaired vision, fearing her retaliation and not doubting her lack of aversion to physical violence.

... Okay, no more Mr. Nice Guy.

"HEY. Watch it. The security cameras are out. I could throw you down the stairs if I wanted and nobody would ever know."

She even reached out as he passed to smack him upside the head, but thankfully in the darkness, she missed. YOU'RE LUCKY THIS TIME, ARTY.

"Now really, Heather, is that any way to talk to someone who is simply making a nice comment about your appearance?"

He tries to keep just out of arms reach as he blunders down the stairs, but it's hard to gage where 'arms length' is when you can just about make out the said arms general shape.

It seemed the darkness had hidden away his self-preservation, as he was still talking.

Well, it was still fun. Might as well make the most of the situation.

"Come now, you know I think that peppering across your nose in one of your best features."

Of course he would choose THIS moment to be brave enough to start teasing her in earnest. The moment when he was hardest to CATCH.

Heather growled.

And judging by the thumping noises on the stairs behind him, she was in hasty pursuit.

"I'm gonna sandpaper your face off!"

Why, of course it was this moment. He's not dumb, you know.

He did his best to keep his feet moving in this awkward manner down the stairs, though he should probably stop now and focus on apologizing, considering she's most likely alot more physically apt than he is and obviously will end up catching him, then do lord knows what to him.

But then again, she did keep calling him 'Arty'.

"Now, that's a bit violent, whyever would you want to do that?"

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and as you get closer to the minimal light downstairs, you can sort of see it too.

"Because your face is STUPID and SPEWS LIES!"

You bet she's gonna wind up catching him. And he MAY JUST NOT LIKE the consequences. Heather was a vengeful creature.

... And now that the light's growing just a little stronger, she can see him more clearly. And oh boy does that smirk aggravate her.

Taking advantage of her higher position, she LUNGES.

Thank god these stairs are carpeted.

Artemis just looks bemused at her venomous words.

A 'your face' comeback? Really, Heather? I thought you were better than- Oh crap!

And here comes the tumble. He was expecting it really, a small part of him had hoped he'd been able to keep out of her danger zone until they were on flat ground but obviously that was a fruitless effort. Well, such is life.

Downward they go, bumping and bashing. If Artemis were anyone else he'd be cursing right now but instead he's just wincing and thinking how ridiculous he'll look with a red nose and dozens of bruises in a matter of minutes.

He was also hoping that this was the worst Heather had in mind, he realized that was probably a delusional dream though.

WHUNK THUMP htundk gld;flasg LDFSHJ'FLGH

When they hit the bottom of the staircase (once again: thank god for carpeting), Heather immediately rolls herself on top of him to pin him down. For all her scrawniness and stringy-at-best muscle, she was actually pretty strong for someone her size.

She glowers down at him in the gloom.

"Care to repeat yourself?"

He doesn't even bother attempting to push her off, he knows it'd be useless, instead he opts to lay there, face distorted slightly by pain as he tries to make a quick check that nothing was broken.

Right, what to do. Well, obviously stop acting like you desire to start using some sort of mobility aid and instead start apologizing.

"Of course, but would you care to tell me which statement you want repeating?"

Moron. What happened to your famed logical way of thinking? Admit it, you just like being snarky, you do this all the time in threatening situations.

Heather was silent for a moment, but Artemis would be able to just... FEEL the burn of her glare.

"... You know what? Never mind. I have a better idea."

And with that, she'd fumble in one pocket before pulling something out-- a pen.

"Hold still."

And with that, assuming he didn't pull some kind of drastic measure, she would start drawing freckles. On his face. Big, cartoony, Spongebob-esque freckles.

Well, to be honest, at first he thought she was about to stab him in the eye so he looked alot more panicked.

When he realized her actual intentions, he still wasn't best pleased.

So he did something pretty ridiculous really, though he weighed it up in his mind that is wasn't as ridiculous as walking around with giant pen circles on your face.

Like a possessive dog with a bone, he bit the pen.

The arm that had been previously restrained by her pen hand lifted up and he pushed the palm of his hand hard against Heathers forehead.

He probably could have just done that, but he wanted to make sure no collateral ink ended up on his face during the struggle.

"I said hold STI-- Garhgh!"

WHARRGARBL.

She hadn't expected... whatever the hell THAT was.

Letting go of the pen, she reached up with that hand to grab his wrist and wrench it away from her face.

"I dunsh't taksh too kindshly to commnnmndshd." He mumbled around the stationery.

Well, that sounded ridiculous, regretting that he has to do something so vulgar, he spat the pen out to the side so it'd roll away from them.

He kept pushing back her head for as long as he could until she overpowered him again.

Dammit, pinned again. Curse my total lack of physical strength, I need to do better on improving that.

He just looks up at her, hoping she doesn't have anything else hidden in her pockets.

He may not be able to keep that up for too long-- Heather might have been scrawny, but she was surprisingly strong for a person of her build.

And dammit, Arty. You don't know when to quit, do you?!

So, when he spits her pen away, she huffs loudly. No more Mr. Nice Guy, then. The next thing Arty knows, she'll be trying to put him in a headlock-- and then NOOGIEING THE HELL OUT OF HIM.

WHERE'S YOUR BUTLER, NOW?

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Cue sax of the yackety variety.

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