concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.
speedy_queen: (Default)
[personal profile] speedy_queen
Thea hasn't been spending that much time in the hotel lately. She's been mostly back home, suiting up, and nothing seems to be getting done. No matter what she does, the ghosts keep coming and she hasn't been able to eradicate the threats creeping on her city and her life. It's keeping her awake all day and all night.

The only thing that ever seems to ease it is getting high and under Oliver's thumb and being treating as the junior member of the team doesn't mean she gets a lot of chances to be able to fuck off and just get away from it. That's changing today. She can go back through to the hotel and score something from Olaf and just blank out for a little while.

When she goes through the door, she heads straight to the bar. Olaf is usually around and if not, she can get drunk on her way to oblivion.

"Keep 'em coming. I've got plenty to pay for it."
almightythor: (wtf)
[personal profile] almightythor
There were many strange doors within the Nexus and while Thor had become a bit more cautious about just pushing through, sometimes he forgot that very important detail. Today was one of those days. He had decided after a long morning of puttering around that he wished to explore and with Mjolnir in hand, set out to a door he had never touched before.

It seemed normal at first. It was a nondescript door that led to a nondescript place but after stepping over the threshold, Mjolnir became too heavy to wield. He had never experienced that except when he had been deemed unworthy but he had done nothing this time, nothing to render himself incapable of being a good man and a fine warrior.

Still, there was something irrevocably different and it was something that Thor could not fathom. He would have to leave the hammer behind? He had never been without it, save those weeks with Jane when he was unworthy of wielding it and now, it seemed, that had happened once again.

Beaten down, he trod back into the hotel. He did not want to be somewhere vulnerable, not without Mjolnir, and did not want anyone to know of his shame. Instead, he went to the bar to have a pint of ale and was surprised when the human ale seemed to affect him in a way it never had before. He had never been drunk before in the hotel and now, it seemed, he was well on his way there.

"I'll have another," he slurred, waving his tankard toward a server. "You'll bring me one more?"
speedy_queen: (Default)
[personal profile] speedy_queen
Thea is exhausted. Maybe it's just the whole dying and resurrecting thing and maybe it's knowing she's never going to see Roy again and maybe, just maybe, it's the fact that she's tired of being Ollie's kid sister and ready to be someone important.

She thinks Roy got that more than anyone else, considering he gifted her the Arsenal suit and his legacy. She's not as good a shot as Ollie but she does all right, especially with a team to back her up. It's not a bad gig and the high? The high is better than any drugs or alcohol she's ever touched. She has to keep it secret, of course, but she has people who can share that secret with her. It's not that hard when there's others to shoulder the burden.

Today, she's not suited up in the traditional sense. She's still balancing Verdant with her nocturnal activities and she's noticed a hell of a lot more leather sneaking into her daily wardrobe. Today she's got slim leather pants and a red silk shirt with no back, the kind of thing that Ollie would never let her leave the house in. Too bad Ollie's not around to tell her no, right?

She tugs open the door to head out to the club to balance the books but instead of bright sunlight that leaves her needing shades, she walks into the low lighting and plush carpets of a hotel. Not just any hotel - the hotel.

"Well, well. Good to know I can still waltz into crazytown whenever I want to. I guess the books can wait." It's been a little while since she's been back here and she's a wardrobe change and two haircuts removed but Thea wonders if any time's passed here in the hotel. Would Olaf have noticed she disappeared? One way to find out.

She heads to the Smoking Room, this time as a patron instead of a bartender. It's different being on this side of the bar but at a newly-minted 21, Thea is enjoying the prospect of legally drinking. "Old-fashioned," she says, deciding to go with an old favorite.
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.
speedy_queen: (drinking)
[personal profile] speedy_queen
Thea has come to the realization that she more or less hates Christmas. Christmas isn't what the movies try to sell you on - happy family, pretty snow, perfect presents. None of that shit is real. Christmas is knowing your parents hate one another but they stay married because they have to and doing drugs in your room because nobody cares whether or not you're alive. That's Christmas. That's real Christmas.

Thea thinks she shouldn't be so down on it. She did have some good years when she was younger and too naive to realize what was really going on in the world but now she's too old and too jaded. She's managed to crawl out of her room three days post holiday with a hangover that only another trip to the bar is going to cure.

She starts out mixing drinks, little fancy things that are on the menu for the holiday. There's one with peppermint that she's particularly fond of and she has several of those before she just decides to say fuck it and drink vodka straight from the bottle. It's not elegant but it gets the job done. Thea thinks that's about all she can ask for at this point.

"One more," she says, staring at the vodka bottle as if it's actually going to respond. "One more and then we're going back to bed to wallow some more."
trulyoracular: (!switch)
[personal profile] trulyoracular
You know, when people head downstairs for a late day breakfast (4PM is never too late, not when you'd gone to bed at 5AM) and turn into a woman, most people might give it a bit of pause. Technically, Olaf does, but he's still really hungover and really hungry and the sausages kind of look incredible, still. He prods and pokes two on a fork before trying to stand in place and accommodate some of his new balance, but that's probably going to take a while (see, the hungover thing).

And normally? Well, normally this would be something to freak out over.

Olaf's never been normal, and seeing as he's watched his grandson get fucked out of a female body, he's pretty sure this is as normal as the Johnson family gets. Finding a seat near the food, Olaf sits with his knees spread wide as he digs into the food, as starved as ever despite the fact that he's suddenly got a lot less body mass to feed. He really wishes he had Stacey or Ingrid around. Dressing himself is always a rough pain and if he does need to get fucked to get normal, he'd rather have a bit of fun with it too (which makes him a bit regretful that he doesn't have a) a video camera and b) Michele).

Yawning and drinking half his coffee cup in one go, Olaf slumps back in his seat, possibly as unladylike as it gets, and debates heading back for seconds.

Really, if this is a god-related switch, he'd get some sort of oracle sign, right?

Seconds, he decides, standing up and getting back in line, peering eagerly forward to see what the roast looks like, which makes his cleavage very, very visible with the lowered line of his white tank-top.
trulyoracular: (shades and shirtless)
[personal profile] trulyoracular
Behind the bar and dispensing drinks in little more than a loose tank top, Olaf feels like he's found his calling in life.

(Never mind that this isn't actually him working so much as he'd ducked behind the bar to steal his own drink, accidentally served someone else a drink, and that had been two hours ago)

Olaf's pretty sure that he could do bartending on a regular basis. After all, he knows his liquor, he's had endless amounts of experience listening to people's problems, and being an oracle means that he not only usually has a solution, but most of the time, it's pretty sure the right one! True, 'most of the time' for Olaf depends on the sun in the sky and a lot of other factors, but he's pretty sure that he's having a good day today.

He serves up a screwdriver, a sex on the beach, listens to a hotel guest mourn her ill luck with men, and drinks a beer all before he notices that there's someone new having approached the bar. True, he's not actually the bartender or anything, but given that Olaf pretty much fills his days with a hazy miasma of slacking off and generally not giving a damn, he thinks that playing at bartending for the day can't hurt.

Of course, if this gets him banned from the bar, that could have some severe ramifications down the line.

"What can I get you?" he asks cheerfully and hopes the answer isn't 'your arse out of here, now'.

Jun. 15th, 2014 06:29 pm
only_hope: (beard; close up)
[personal profile] only_hope
Two months.

Obi-Wan had discovered the Nexus Hotel two months prior and in that time, he hadn't once run across anything remotely resembling an Imperial presence. There wasn't even a Hutt lord in charge of the place, which was surprising, because he imagined a place like this that served as a hub between worlds would be a prime staging point for a cartel. Still, it seemed there was no government at all to speak of and the citizens seemed neutral and benign. It was a safe enough place to hide when things got a bit hairy on Tatooine and it was a wonderful place to escape from the endless sands and the monotony of living in the Jundland Wastes.

Today, he had wandered through the myriad rooms and halls of the hotel before finding a room that had a collection of hot tubs and steam rooms within. The idea of water after spending so long parched on Tatooine was a luxury that Obi-Wan could not resist and it seemed the older he got, the more his muscles and bones protested the long hours of training he still put himself through. It took only a moment to make the decision to slide into one of the pools and he stripped quickly, leaving his robes in a messy pile next to the closest hot tub.

Once in, he couldn't help but sigh and stretch his arms out behind himself, pulling the sore muscles of his back into a delicious stretch that helped work out some of the stiffness and pain. It reminded him of the amenities in the Jedi temple back before the Empire had destroyed it, of the dozens of gymnasiums and hot pools that a weary Jedi or padawan could avail themselves of when the training grew too intense.

"The only thing better would be a massage," Obi-Wan said to himself, heedless of anyone else in the room who might overhear. While he was a wanted man throughout most of the galaxy, here in the Nexus he was perfectly anonymous and it was something he wanted to embrace for the time being. No responsibilities. No fear of being caught.

Simply relaxation.
bornagoddess: (mischief about to manage)
[personal profile] bornagoddess

"I think we're supposed to dance, break the rules, and generally end the evening feeling like we own the world."

Olaf takes Sif to prom, they do all of the above.

bornagoddess: (look down)
[personal profile] bornagoddess
Right. It was time to spend more than roughly two minutes in Asgard for fear of losing the door back to the Nexus. Sif needed supplies, and she needed to come to terms with the fickle nature of the door back without endangering her home by shirking her duties. She would have to go back for a longer time eventually, she knew this. It was all a matter of acceptance.

Having reached a sort of catharsis where Loki was concerned, and having had quite a bit of fun - with him and others; different types of fun, from the most innocuous to the most...interesting - this was as good a time as any to return. Rather than messaging each of her newfound friends Sif had simply left a brief note on the door along the lines of

'It is time for me to spend time at home without fearing I might lose my way back. If I do, please know that I have cherished every moment spent here with you, whoever you are, and I hope to see you again. Lady Sif'

and called it a day. Whoever it was directed at would know it was directed at them, and others might simply shrug and move along. She donned her freshly polished armor as well as her sword and shield and as expected found the door back to Asgard not far from her own room, edged between a door marked 'supplies' and one with a number on it. Inhaling sharply, Sif turned the knob and went inside. Conveniently, the door had changed locations. Whereas before it had been located in the barracks (it was the door to the barracks, for her) now it lead straight into the balcony of her quarters at the palace. Sif looked over her shoulder, and found the door placed neatly on the side wall leading to said balcony, as though it had always been there, as though it belonged.

It was a foolish thing to do, but as the fear of losing her way back still gnawed at her despite coming to terms with the possibility, and as it was now in her private quarters which none had access to, Sif now planned to keep it slightly ajar. Taking long strides into her quarters she found an empty metal wine cup that she put between the door and its threshold, and found that it held quite easily. Satisfied, Sif nodded, turning her back on the door to go about her business.

[Follow Sif into Asgard! It is golden and beautiful this time of year. And all times of year, really.]

Apr. 28th, 2014 08:08 pm
trulyoracular: (pleased)
[personal profile] trulyoracular
There are times in Olaf's life when being an oracle is not just a title.

They're few and far between, of course, but when they come, it's like the rainclouds over the universe clear and the rays of sun shine through and give Olaf the clearest sense of everything that is, was, and will come to be in the world. It only figures that he's coming into this on the heels of his latest trip, but he's got a table set out at the bar, Ingrid's tarot cards, and he's divining the future like it's easy.

Honestly, sometimes Olaf forgets how good it feels to know what the universe wants of you, not to mention knowing what's coming and what everything means. Of course, it's only been a few hours, so in a day's time, the frustration of all this knowledge will send Olaf back into a spiral of drugs, alcohol, and sex to try and shut the universe out, but it's early days yet and Olaf's never been so good with remembering his lessons.

Cigarette dangling out the side of his mouth, he beckons the next person who enters the bar over. "You, come here," he mumbles. "Want your future read? Today, there's a 90% chance that I'll even get it right," he adds, with clear eyes and a hopeful heart. Maybe he'll even pick up something that he can bring back to his grandkids so they don't think of him as completely worthless, but he'll let Ingrid's tarot cards do the talking today.

Free Tarot readings with an oracle. Please drop a line here if there's anything you want Olaf to pick out of your character's future.

Apr. 5th, 2014 06:04 pm
only_hope: (hooded and cloaked)
[personal profile] only_hope
Obi-Wan now suddenly understood why Anakin despised Tatooine so much. Aside from the slavery, which was rampant, the entire planet was covered in sand that seemed to get into any and everything no matter what measures one took to prevent it. Potable water was only obtained through complex vaporator systems which, inevitably, failed once the sand got into their inner workings and destroyed the delicate machinery. Obi-Wan was a decent hand at most technology but he would never be a savant the way Anakin was; as a result, his vaporators were constantly on the fritz and he was at the mercy of the mechanics in Anchorhead. They tended to gouge those who did not know better.

Obi-Wan kept to himself these days and missed the companionship once found within the halls of the Jedi temple. It pained him to think that the beautiful building no longer existed, the tenets it stood for torn asunder by the will of the newly-installed Galactic Emperor. Obi-Wan wish he'd seen it coming, had known that Palpatine meant ill by the people of Naboo and the Republic but nobody had seen it, nobody had connected the dots to lead from seemingly-unconnected Sith apprentices to their wily master. Palpatine had been very careful never to reveal any sort of Force-related powers. Even Masters Yoda and Windu had been unable to tell until it was far too late. And Anakin! Such great potential, his apprentice, but it had been twisted into fear and jealousy by Palpatine and used as a means to an end. The last thing Obi-Wan wanted was to cut him down on Mustafar and, yet, he had never been afraid to do what was necessary to protect the Order, even when the Order was essentially gone.

Which is why he chose to come to Tatooine to keep an eye out on a boy who might hold the key to the future of the entire Jedi Order in his chubby little fists. Luke Skywalker would grow up knowing the same sort of mundane existence his father had years ago and would know nothing beyond the windswept sands of Tatooine until the time came. They would keep him safe by hiding him in plain sight, in putting him on the one planet Anakin vowed never to return to. Luke would be safe here and Obi-Wan, to ensure that safety, would merely have to suffer the inconveniences of living on a backwater planet.

"At least the Empire doesn't seem remotely interested in colonizing this waste," he muttered to himself, drawing his cloak tighter as he peered out the windows. There was a sandstorm on the horizon and he needed to go cover as much as he could to keep it from being destroyed. This Force-foresaken planet was going to be the death of him, he knew it, and he hated it with every cell in his body. Still, duty trumped comfort.

"Why did it have to be sand?" he asked, wrenching the door open and stepping out into the wind. It seemed to calm as soon as he stepped into it, however, and as the sand settled there was a very different landscape before his eyes. Gone were the ancient droids and vaporators and in their place was plush carpet and fine wood, the interior of a palace or a temple and not the jagged rock of the Jundland Wastes. Obi-Wan peered back through the door to see his own meager home, the secondhand furniture and worn clothes, and decided that this new place bore further investigation.

If nothing else, it would be interesting and he hadn't had much in the way of excitement since arriving on Tatooine some months ago. It would be worth it simply to entertain himself for a few hours, wouldn't it?

Mar. 21st, 2014 07:45 pm
irondruid: (002)
[personal profile] irondruid
I never really appreciated just how difficult it is to teach an apprentice. I knew it would be tough the second I said yes to Granuaile, because becoming a druid takes practice, patience, and most of all, time. Twelve whole years of it.

Seven years in, and I've long since understood what difficult truly means. Sometimes Granuaile gets frustrated (who can blame her? I wasn't much better during my own apprenticeship), and sometimes I channel my old archdruid more than I care to admit. He was a shit excuse for a human being, but a brilliant druid and teacher. I'm being a bit of the former today, I will admit, and coupled with Granuaile's frustration over our current project, the day hasn't been going well. At all.

When Granuaile slams a door in my face for the third time today, I decide we should probably take a break. I hear the Geekmobile start up and drive off, and I sigh. She'll be going into town to blow off steam, and I've long since stopped tailing her, content to let us both cool off and come back when we can handle it.

I'm about to reach out to Oberon as I go down the hall and open my bedroom door, but as I step through, everything changes.


"So this wasn't a weird fever dream," I say out loud. I scrunch my bare feet in the carpet and take off down the hall that opens out into a lobby that looks very familiar. I head over to the main doors and peer outside. Yep, the view is exactly as I remembered it, and I'm glad I haven't eaten since dawn.

I turn back to face the lobby and take a good look at the people around, and wonder who I'll meet this time. Thor again? Al Capone? Ooh, Captain Mal? Fingers crossed it's someone interesting.

Maybe I'll have some more time to study the magical patterns here and figure out how they work - and how I can work with them.

I can find the door home in a little while.

Feb. 16th, 2014 08:09 pm
iwillnotsettledown: (Giggle)
[personal profile] iwillnotsettledown
MacKenzie doesn't make a habit of going through the random doors all that often. She had dragged Will to Disneyland, true, but usually she's content to go back and forth from work to home and occasionally through the rabbit hole to the hotel where she and Will can escape for a little while. MacKenzie loves it. The hotel means there's a place where they can be well and truly alone and now that there's phones, it's not much different - they still can't get proper internet or cell signals and the phones here only serve to make it easier to find one another if they go out on their own.

It is, in a word, ideal. The perfect little hideaway.

Still, MacKenzie is curious about the doors even if she hardly ever goes through and when she finds one that's, honest to god, a gorgeous slalom course with fresh powder and all the Olympic-level gear she could ever want, she has to go in. MacKenzie has always loved to ski and it's not really something she can do with Will on account of his bad knee so she spends hours running the course, hitting the gates on every pass. There's people down there timing her and she slowly figures out this is an actual Olympics practice course and she's apparently entered. This would be strange except it feels perfectly natural, as if she's been training for this for ages. Huh. MacKenzie is sure she's never seen stranger but she's seen enough strange that she's willing to go with it.

She loads herself up in Team USA gear (including a particularly ridiculous sweater) and pushes her goggles back on her head, heading back through the door to the Nexus to find Will and drag him back here. If she's going to win an Olympic medal, she's going to have Will here to watch it. He's not the only athlete around here.

There's snow melting beneath her ski boots and into the fine carpet of the hotel corridor and beyond the door she can hear bells as spectators cheer on and she's one step in and one step out.

Feb. 16th, 2014 03:41 pm
the_allmother: (05;ariyana-creations)
[personal profile] the_allmother
That there seemed to be immediate threat in the hotel was something that encouraged Frigga greatly. She still found the make up of it strange and kept idly trying to piece together what power could draw people so freely from across time and worlds. She tried to not let herself worry overly much. Preparing for a future hurt was one thing, but mindlessly obsessing over what could not change was another. She did not know how to get back home, and had no intention of leaving Loki and Thor here alone, grown though they might be.

She took the afternoon to look through the gardens about the hotel, something that calmed her greatly. She saved the greenhouse for last and couldn't help but feel almost at home here. The humidity cause her hair to curl more than usual, mussing into her face, but she didn't mind. She walked slowly through the plants and flowers, pleased to see that there was so much life growing here.

"Do you know who tends such matters here?" she asked by way of idle conversation. She wouldn't mind a garden of her own as long as she stayed at the hotel.
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Though the main dining hall didn't bear the typical Valentine's Day decoration, it had been changed enough to subtly reflect the mood through small fairy lights hanging from the walls and twinkling in the dimmed light of the grand room. Each place was set with the finest silver cutlery and adorned with bold red plates. Up and down the table, seats awaited their guests to enjoy the five course meal, roses set in vases every few feet along the table.

At the head, a string quartet band played quietly so as not to disrupt the conversation and waiters kept wine glasses full, empty plates cleared, and worked to keep the mood high. As the sun began to set, the dinner began to be served.

First Course: Breadcrumb Crusted Zucchini Flowers w/ Shiitake Mushroom & Bacon Hash served with chilled avocado soup in a shotglass tumbler

Salad: Bacon, Romaine Lettuce & Tomato Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette

Second Course: Duck & Cheese Ravioli with Purple Eggplant & Marinara Sauce infused with duck fat served with a 2010 Darioush Chardonnay, Napa Valley

Main Course: Maple Glazed Bison served with grilled peaches and herbed creamy ricotta polenta served with Pascual Toso 2007 Alta Reserva Las Barrancas Vineyards Malbec

Dessert: Walnut Baklava with Fried Bananas and Chocolate Sauce served with Veuve Clicquot Vintage 2002 Champagne
trulyoracular: (odin & baldr)
[personal profile] trulyoracular

"You're not the first Loki to exist in this world, but I don't know that the cosmos can support two of you," Olaf says, unscrewing the bottle of vodka and taking a deep, deep, deep, deep drink before handing it off. "And, to be fair, if you're the Loki of the original Asgard, I think I owe you a mistletoe-tinged spear," he says dubiously.

PG-13 for language and Anders Johnson
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
A large, decorative sign situated prominantly in the lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents its

Event Location
Nexus Premises
6 PM - ?

1920's themed dress recommended, but not required for all guests

The sumptuous theme of elegance that typically surrounds the Nexus Hotel is out in full force on the evening of the 31st. With efficiency and very little said, a group had entered and snapped white tablecloths on long tables in the main lobby of the hotel, turning side-rooms into similar displays of elegance. Then came the food, followed by the alcohol, and the guests were quick to follow.

Drinks were on the lawn, in the hotel, making their way into the hands of party-goers who wore shining, shimmering, jewelled gowns of all eras, but only those from the 1920’s hung on a rack in the luggage room where hotel guests entered to check in and found themselves amidst a welcoming committee like none before.

In the skies between the hotel and the stars, fireworks shot off in hourly intervals, sparkling and accompanied by a great bang that the music from the band does its’ best to drown out (to no avail). And under those shimmering lights, the party for New Years Eve roared. It was not the only party, though, as a door had been propped open that led directly to the shining lights of Las Vegas, the gleaming neon of the strip beckoning any guests daring enough to try their hand at games of chance and luck.


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