concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
71st_victor: (plot)
[personal profile] 71st_victor
She's starting to get twitchy.

Generally, it's not like Johanna ever goes for a very long drought without getting what she wants. She's secure in her body, aggressive, and back home, just famous enough that one look could get her into bed with any man she likes. Here, though, it's not as easy. She's not so easily recognized and when she's as aggressive as she usually is to get what she wants, it gets met with shyness or nerves or a general rebuff.

It's starting to make her twitchy and Johanna gets violent pretty quickly after. It means her axe is going to find something to get embedded in if she can't find someone to make her sweat and scream soon. If she can't do it horizontally, she's going for next best thing, which is why she's coming back from a ten mile run around the grounds, panting and glistening and feeling her heart racing. It's not exactly what she wants, but it's not a bad distraction for now.

Grabbing a towel, she wipes the sweat from her forehead as she spots a figure on the horizon, grinning a little wider. "Even better," she notes to herself, "the kind of distraction I could grow to like."

She licks her lips and runs the towel over her neck as she squints, trying to get a better view of who's approaching, but she already knows that it'll be better than running laps. Maybe today's the day she stops being so twitchy, after all. Her luck's got to start changing sometime.
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[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.
debt_unpaid: (lost my direction and i lost my home)
[personal profile] debt_unpaid
Jaime sat staring into the flames long after they'd consumed Cersei's letter. Outside, fat flakes drifted silently down, coating Riverrun in a fine dusting of white, and he sat there watching the fire burn itself out until the distant sounding of the bell from the sept roused him. The empty feeling in the pit of his stomach must mean he was hungry, he decided— time to call for some food, and plan his next move.

Going to the door, he made an abortive gesture at the handle with his right hand before remembering and reaching with his left instead. But as he yanked it open, the snap of irritation dissolved as he discovered the cool stone and blue tapestries of the Tullys' halls were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found himself looking at a smooth, cream-colored wall, and a floor covered with a strange and hideous carpet. The room was bright, but as he stepped through he could see no windows to let in the sun; the light seemed, incredibly, to be coming from the ceiling, yet there were no torches in evidence.

Stunned by curiosity, Jaime found himself through the door before he'd considered the wisdom of it, turning down the hall and following where it led, concern gnawing at his insides with greater intensity as he walked. Suddenly the hallway opened up into a grand entrance hall, where he stood thunderstruck at the sight of a bright summer sun pouring through the windows.

Wherever he was, it was far from the wintry bluster of Riverrun— which meant someone owed him an explanation, now.

[Find the Kingslayer in the gallery, foyer, arboretum, or wandering the first floor of the hotel. Please read his profile for info on his exit point, appearance, etc.]
tooktheblack: (Jon&Ghost)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
One of the things about being in the Nexus and on the island was that it was warm and it meant that Ghost could spend a great deal more time hunting in the brush and dirt than over a layer of pure, white snow. Ghost himself did not seem to care how much of a mess he looked and wrangling the direwolf for a bath was an exercise in futility.

Jon had managed to corner him in his hotel bathroom and get him in the tub but before he could finish rinsing the soap from Ghost's matted, tangled fur, the direwolf burst through the open bathroom door and tore out, crashing into furniture along the way. Jon thought it would be prudent to keep him corralled in the hotel room itself except a poor, unsuspecting housekeeper opened the door and the wolf barreled out into the corridor, sensing freedom.

"You bastard!" Jon shouted after him, tearing out of his hotel room shirtless and in bare feet in hopes that he would catch Ghost before he got too far away. "You'll come back here or you'll regret it!"

Jon knew that if Ghost truly wanted to get away, he would. A direwolf was a wild animal, no matter how tame he might think Ghost was on a regular basis, and there was always the chance he would turn wild and run off. Still, he hoped the friendship they'd forged and the journeys they'd been on together would make Ghost...somewhat value his opinion on things.


[[Ghost won't hurt your pup but he is a wolf the size of a pony so he's not exactly small.]]
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
A large sign placed prominently in the Nexus lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents the

Event Location
Nexus Dining Hall
8 PM - 2 AM

Masquerade dress recommended, but not required for all guests

The Dining Hall's central table and chairs had been removed to create a dance floor wide enough to accommodate fanciful masquerade costumes. On one end had been placed a long bar providing free drinks, and on the other a small chamber orchestra providing the music for dancing. The entire room was bedecked in gold bunting and twinkling candlelight, and masks were available for those guests who hadn't brought their own.

Jun. 8th, 2014 10:39 pm
tooktheblack: (on the wall)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
Jon had often been accused of needless melancholy on the island but his life in Westeros had left very little time for mirth or good cheer and was often mired in death and mourning and hours and hours of duty. The island had given him cause to smile and had given him time with his brothers and sister again but that, too, had been taken away from him. No matter how much he searched the worlds beyond the doors, he could not find one that led back to the island and there was no way to see Robb again.

He missed him. It was like mourning his death all over again and it was something that kept him up late this night, pouring over a bit of paper as he tried to work out a complicated family tree with all their island relations added in to those he knew from Westeros. There would be Robb's children to account for, along with Delirium and her children too. There was Bran and their added family in the form of Hiccup and Merida, those who hailed from other worlds that seemed similar to Westeros even if they were not quite the same.

And, of course, there was one important person he needed to add in the middle of his family tree, one who had come to mean everything to him.

Jon Snow - Leah Clearwater

He had taken vows to never take a wife when on the Night's Watch but now, three years removed from Lord Commander and Westeros entirely, those vows seemed distant and hazy. He had been with Leah for long enough to know that he loved her and wanted to be with her for as long as the gods would allow. He had contemplated asking for her hand on the island but had never done it, too wary of breaking his vows in front of those from Westeros who knew what swearing allegiance to the Night's Watch truly meant but now in the Nexus, there was nobody who knew the significance of those vows. Those scarce few from the island wouldn't care if he broke his vows in the letter of the law; he had already been breaking the spirit of them for years.

"It seems I need to make an offer for her," he said to himself, heedless of anyone else listening. There was the matter of figuring out a way to ask, as Leah wasn't swayed by traditional displays of courtly chivalry, but Jon was reasonably sure she would answer him yes.

Or, so he hoped.
follow_the_wolf: (039)
[personal profile] follow_the_wolf
Stories of the Huntsman and his Wolves were traded over the fires in the camps at the edges of Roman territory. Those whispers twisted with each telling, changed in the inflections and origin of its speaker. The Roman Empire spanned continents and pulled its soldiers from every territory, but no matter the language of those who shared the story, every tribe had a word for 'wolf.'

Some said they were outlaws who had been brought under the heel of the Emperor and had agreed to follow his orders in exchange for the sparing of their lives. Some said they were soldiers who had moved too smoothly through battle and been hand chosen by their commander to join his elite unit. Still others claimed they were shapeshifters who changed shape with the moon and so only struck enemy forces on those three nights of every month that the moon was at its fullest. There were whispers that each Wolf stood towering tall and lean under daylight, and became monstrous creatures under the fall of night. Most shocking of all, there were even whispers that there were women among their number who fought alongside the men as equals.

All agreed that the Wolves wore heavy mantles of thick fur across their shoulders, the long cloaks that fell behind them the color of the forest at night. They moved like ghosts through the forests they struck from, attacked only at night and fought with sword and bow and what could only be imagined as strange knives by the wounds left on the dead they left in their wake.

The Huntsman stepped at the forefront of his Wolves then, as dusk fell heavy among the trees, and looked over his shoulder to inspect those who ranged behind him, readying themselves for the strike ahead. He lifted his chin and spoke to the nearest of his Wolves, "You prepared?"

[AU and open to any who might like some leather and fur clad warriors in the Northern reaches of the Empire. Obviously any who are already shapeshifters could remain so, but others (such as the Huntsman himself) are purely human warriors]

Feb. 23rd, 2014 10:38 pm
freezedout: (sorry)
[personal profile] freezedout
When he'd walked through the door, the sound of a bell nearly deafened Isaac's ears.

When he steps through the door, everything hits him like a rushing tidal wave. He doesn't recognize everything at first, but slowly things start to come to him. That's the jungle gym and there's the hopscotch and he doesn't know why he's worried about some old hotel because it's recess. The door behind Isaac hangs open as his small feet send him running into the schoolyard playground, his lanky limbs bringing him further than the other kids with every step.

It's only when he gets to the middle of the yard that he realizes he doesn't see anyone he knows and Isaac starts to feel a tiny pit in his stomach that feels a lot like being scared. He wants Camden to come and play with him, but Camden has his own older friends and doesn't have time for a six-year-old like Isaac.

Cautiously, Isaac finds his way to the play area and sits down, hoping that maybe he can find someone to play with. After all, it can't be that hard, can it?

[Recess gathering post in the elementary school door! All ages, grades 1-8 welcome, whether they remember who they are or not]

Feb. 1st, 2014 12:34 pm
tooktheblack: (on the wall)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
The door to Westeros was unassuming and like every other door in the hotel but Jon found that he always knew where it was and how to get it to open so it wasn't a broom closet and it was a way back home. He had been tempted a few times but had never ventured more than a few steps, just satisfying himself with the crunch of his boots against fresh-fallen snow. Today, though, he meant to go further.

Ghost was restless with having been cooped up in the hotel for weeks and while neither of them had liked the heat of the island, there had at least been the jungle to explore and hunt. The places the hotel led were stranger still and none of them that he had found so far had the kind of place he felt comfortable letting Ghost roam in, except one: Westeros. The North had always been his home and after Winterfell, the Wall and Castle Black had become as much a home as a bastard boy would ever have. It was dangerous to go back there considering his own men had tried to kill him but he thought he might journey to one of the other castles, one long abandoned due to simply not having enough men to garrison it.

Rimegate and Sable Hall were far enough away from the manned castles to be safe enough and would provide shelter should the snows grow too deep. Jon wasn't in fear of that. He was well-acquainted with how to survive in the North and knew how best to keep himself safe and warm should a storm come up. It was here that he felt more comfortable than anywhere else - be that the hotel, the island or somewhere in between. It was here that his purpose lay.

"Come, Ghost. Let's go home for a little while and see if anything has changed."

[Find Jon at the open door that leads back to Westeros, which is very snowy and cold at the moment.]

Nov. 5th, 2013 12:19 pm
tooktheblack: (Default)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
Jon spent most of his days on the island ranging, both on his own and as a part of his duties for the IPD. Today, he and Ghost had walked most of the perimeter surrounding the dinosaurs and found nothing out of the ordinary so they’d headed deep into the jungle to hunt. While it was boring to have no real threats, Jon couldn’t say that he preferred his life in peril every time he and Ghost took to the paths. While it was no real challenge to hunt boar and jungle fowl, it was better than being killed by a dinosaur or frozen to death by a wight.

But today, deep in the jungle, there seemed to be a little building that Jon didn’t recognize. It was almost like an overgrown hut, in a way, and he wondered if someone was living out here. If they were, he guessed it was no business but their own but the Council might want a record of it so they could keep track of the comings and goings; it seemed there were more disappearances than arrivals these days and Jon wasn’t sure what that meant. Ghost trotted ahead of him, pawing at the door of the hut and Jon’s mind was made up. He would see what was in this hut, if it was abandoned of if someone was living there, and then go back to the IPD office to make a report of it to the commander there. It would likely be nothing but, considering the island and its nature, Jon would rather be certain of nothing than to be caught unawares.

He tugged open the door and stepped inside, expecting the must of mold and animal droppings and not cool, clean air and plush carpets. The inside of this building seemed much larger than the outside and he peered back at the island, the jungle overgrowth and cloying heat, before deciding to venture further into this new place. It was something the Council would likely want to know about and Jon thought that having a detailed report to give them would be better than coming back empty-handed and knowing nothing.

It seemed to be an inn of some sort but of the modern variety he’d seen in films and not what he was used to in Westeros. There were plush carpets and cool air, ostensibly from air conditioning, and the building was much larger than the Compound. How had it fit inside that tiny, unassuming hut? How was this possible? While Jon was no real fan of magic, he had encountered enough of it on the island to know that it could occasionally be benevolent. There was usually a catch to that, though, and he kept himself aware as he and Ghost trod through the hallways.

There were other doors here and there and Jon tried a few of them. One opened into an ornate bathroom of some sort, with a fancy claw-foot tub and gold fixtures. Interesting, but not something he cared to explore further. Another door opened into a library filled with books and he made a note to tell Richard about it to pass along to his lady, who loved to read. More doors revealed a garden, another city and some sort of game room and Jon closed them all, thinking that it was high time he and Ghost went back to the island and brought a full group in to investigate this place more thoroughly.

He made his way back to the door he’d come through some time earlier and pulled it open, frowning deeply when he saw nothing more than brooms and mops and not the island he’d left behind. He closed it and tried it again - this time, the door opened to a forest of weirwood with thick snow on the ground, something that could never exist on the island because it was far too hot for that much snow and besides, even in December there was never an entire forest of weirwood. The door had opened to Westeros and, more importantly, had opened to some place beyond the Wall and in the far North.

“Why do I feel the sense that we’re never going back there, Ghost?” he asked, watching the direwolf’s face carefully. Ghost was more intelligent than a dog and sometimes Jon felt like he and Ghost were one, that he’d become a warg just like Varamyr Sixskins. It wasn’t something he could do easily and usually not consciously but the result was that they were closer than a man and his pet usually were. Ghost put his head on his paws and looked through the door, watching snow fall among the weirwood trees.

“I know. It’s tempting. Let’s try to find the island again. I am not ready to give that up yet, no matter how tempting it might be to feel snow crunching beneath my boots once more. We have to find the island and tell the others about this place. We can’t leave Robb and Leah and Bran behind.”

So Jon began pulling at doors again, increasingly more frustrated when each door failed to reveal the island he so desperately wanted to get back to.


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