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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
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[personal profile] concierge
From grand galas to informal gatherings, parties of one sort or another were not an unusual occurrence at the Nexus Hotel. Today was no different, a low-key affair erected in the rotunda of the Italian gardens with the aspiration that tea sandwiches and mimosas would facilitate mingling of the hotel's ever-shifting population.

What was unusual, however, was the inclusion of a wayward, bipedal lizard courtesy of a door standing open on the hotel's facade. Green, spry, perhaps five feet long and roughly as tall as a man, this new guest featured a curved, hard plate across his (or her) forehead that was perhaps indicative of the stubborn nature lurking beneath -- Perhaps because the foliage was so tasty, this little dinosaur resisted all attempts by the staff to corral it back to its home. It would run away from ropes and outstretched arms, knocking over bottles of champagne and destroying the decor before settling several feet away to chomp on some accommodating flowers.
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[personal profile] dayswithoutincident

If he's going to be stuck somewhere, at least it's a place equipped to handle monsters.

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[personal profile] concierge
The fog had begun near the dusk hours, coating all the plants and flowers in the garden. It settled, heavy, and blanketed everything with a new cover that was only matched in mood by the graveyard that had unearthed itself from the grass and the moss. Names were etched on each gravestone, but the most unnerving part was that every few steps, if you stopped and listened very, very carefully, you might hear a knock of a human hand against hard wood. It was almost as if the dead were being called upwards.

The maze stood normal, but inside around the corners, there were things lurking and waiting.

Outside might have become frightening and gloomy, but the contrast to indoors was stark. Inside, carved pumpkins lit with candles turned the ballroom and restaurants into amber-lit abodes, costumed partygoers twirled to the music played by the band in the lobby (while the DJ had set up in the conservatory). Candy and small hors d'oeuvres circulated on the trays of immaculately clad waiters and though outside it was stormy, foggy, and spooky, inside was a delight of themed drinks, delicious food, and the manic and half-crazed mood of people in the midst of their fun.

The party for Halloween had begun.

And there was no telling when it might ever end.
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.
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[personal profile] concierge
Anyone who passed the billiards room in the evening was treated to the sound of light laughter, billiard balls being struck with firm confidence, and the clatter of glasses and plates. The notice had been posted only that day for the tournament, but all were welcome to join in and play, while free drinks and small morsels of food were passed around for the enjoyment of all. The two billiard tables were rarely empty, even though the prize wasn't much to speak of, but pride was always a great motivator in people's ambitions and the ability to say you'd won was always on the line.

The billiards tournament was casual and many were lingering around, watching as the players took their turns. Waiters circulated the room with their trays, and every once in a while, new competitors were welcomed into the informal billiards competition that had begun only a few hours earlier.

Everyone was welcome, though some people would be leaving the event with a loss on their backs. It was lucky, then, that there was alcohol, food, and good company to help dull the defeats.
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[personal profile] digyourman
The twilight was painted in soft strokes across a tumble of low-slung clouds, pinks and purples distilled from the glitter of the infinite sky to spill over neatly-clipped lawns and gently burbling fountains. Perched upon one of the retaining walls in the English garden, Larry was bent over a guitar propped up by one braced knee, evening shadows chasing across his face as he strummed out a familiar melody with calloused fingers.

A year he'd been in this place; a year of quiet living and silently-borne restitution, a year that felt simultaneously endless and a blink, a year that had fostered introspection and little else. Good things still left him skittish, afraid of what followed, and despite it all the very nature of that feeling seemed another failure.

Frannie had been gone a month, and he still wasn't certain why he hadn't seen it coming.

The back edge of the guitar rested against his chest, each note humming through the thin cotton of his t-shirt and under his skin. He needed a haircut, dark curls sliding across his downturned eyes as began to softly sing.

Even children get older, and I'm getting older, too.
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[personal profile] shes_biochem
Even after she had found and opened the door, it'd taken Simmons more time than she'd like to figure out what she's looking at. It speaks to how much her mind has been plagued with worry and brainstorming and countless, endless time spent devoting her energy towards healing Fitz. She'd been nose-deep in a book on her way to get something to eat when she'd opened the door and hit some sort of barrier.

Though that's not the important part.

(It's an interesting part, she's not discounting that, but it's secondary to what's before her)

Simmons presses her palm up against the strange barrier and watches the scene in front of her. It's them on the Bus. They're playing Scrabble and oh, she remembers this. She remembers how happy she'd felt at the team coming together. Without her intentions leaning towards it, her gaze turns to Ward, who is protesting one of Simmons' own plays. Her eyes turn flinty as she regards him, trying to search for cracks in the surface, as if looking back on this moment, she can try and see the snake hiding behind the man's skin all along, but there's nothing there. She's so bitter and upset because why bother saving her life if he could so easily throw it away only months later?

And why can't she go in there? Why can't she walk in like any other door and scream at the top of her lungs not to trust him. Her gaze turns to Fitz, next, so happy and untouched and unbruised and she shifts her palm over so she can lean her forehead against the strange barrier, watching wistfully and thinking that it had been so much easier than.

True, they had been in the dark, but they'd been happy, weren't they?

"You're going to pay," she says to the Ward in the past, who's smiling and laughing and wearing his sheep's clothing like a second skin. "And I hope I get to be a part of it."
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[personal profile] concierge
Outside of the Nexus Hotel, waiters and hotel staff had begun to set up the umbrellas and the tables in the middle of the day. Soon, it became clear that something was happening in the shadow of the Nexus. White tablecloths were draped on the tables and drinks and food were brought out with the help of several waiters and servers, staffing tables with hot and cold foods beside bartending stations. Summery drinks in bright, neon colors are laid out one by one and soon, the afternoon light casts a radiant look on the scene.

Music plays faintly in the background and a note at the front desk invites all the Nexus guests to head outside and join in on the summer party, which promises to continue going as long as there are people to stay and continue keeping the warm atmosphere rolling.

On the lawn, social games had been set out -- lawn bowling, croquet, and tables were set up with chairs for anyone who didn't quite have the will or the spirit to get into such games. Soon, a small number of people had begun to mill around, but as with all parties, there's always room for more.

Jun. 27th, 2014 10:46 pm
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[personal profile] assistingconsultant
It had been an eventful few months.

Was that why Joan found herself in the Nexus, now, avoiding her life? Most definitely. Something had changed with her and Sherlock, ever since she had decided to move out. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew that, logically, she could not build her life around him. Still she wasn't feeling up to letting her life power forward and, even though she still did not entirely trust this hotel, she at least had to act as if she did, and she hoped her life didn't go racing forward while she was there in The Smoking Room, playing crossword puzzles at an empty table.

And, really, she supposed a broken heart was the least of her worries, but she had that, too.

Attempting to distance herself from her life, to gain some clarity, apparently wasn't helping her out, because she just ended up sitting around at the hotel wondering what she could do with herself. She had a bottle of beer on the table with her, barely touched. She had fancied herself to be self-medicating, but hadn't even, really, been in the mood for that. Her eyes ticked over the page. Had crosswords somehow gotten easier in the last year?

Ignoring the little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Sherlock and Mycroft combined, she filled out 7. getting better, eight words, with recovery. She looked at it, feeling suspicious. Typical.

Apr. 28th, 2014 08:08 pm
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[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.
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[personal profile] captain_rogers
How many hours he had spent exploring the halls and grounds of the Nexus Hotel, Steve was pretty certain he'd lost track. It surprised him to find that he was not climbing the proverbial (or literal) walls with so much time without a mission, although that might have been largely in part to do with Bucky's presence and what he recognized as a half-masochistic desire to take all the time he could with the other man without spilling the beans. Since their days in the orphanage and their meeting in one of the many Brooklyn back alleys he'd been getting beat up in, all until the war, there hadn't been a day he hadn't been sure what Bucky was up to or where Bucky was.

The war had changed that in ways Steve had never anticipated. What had come after had only driven him further apart from those nostalgia-colored memories of a childhood that was, in retrospect, far from grand.

Despite his promise to his friend that he could hitch a ride back with him, if only he could find his door, Steve had avoided much of investigating the many doors of the hotel as he worked out whether or not such a thing were even possible. That he actually wished for a moment that Stark was there to babble at him in his science-speak about dimensions or temporal paradox or whatever else might have been on the menu was a fact he thought he'd best keep to himself. Best forget entirely before he had to think on that for too long.

Instead he had toured the art gallery more than a dozen times, poked around the library, devoted early mornings and late nights when he was unable to sleep in the basement gym. In between times he unnerved the staff at the bistro with the amount of food he could pack away in a sitting, and how many times a day he could come back for a refill and still have that vaguely hungry feeling gnawing at his belly. Just then, with something unsettling and all too vague itching at the back of his neck and weighing at his shoulders, he buried himself in the cheap sketchbook and pencil he'd picked up in the hotel shop, sitting with his back against the wall of the lobby as he idly sketched bits and pieces of the people who passed through on their way to one place or another.
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[personal profile] captain_rogers
There was a second - just a second there in the midst of shaking his head in an attempt to lose some of the sand that had been whipped up into his face by the harsh wind of a Kansas summer - where Steve stood entirely unaware of the shift of the world around him. In expecting the change in temperature, the shelter from the wind and the dust, he had not immediately thought that he walked through the door not of the run down diner just west of Ellis but into another world entirely.

Busy with the task of clearing his eyes of that sudden burst of sand and grit, the door slipped from his hand to close heavily behind him.

He did not think immediately of its consequences, not as he allowed the pleasant drag of a long ride to settle into the shrug of his shoulders and the feel of his back and arms as he shifted the helmet he carried under one arm. The long weeks on the road had not so much bred an easiness in him as it allowed him room to breathe, to think, to be able to look at the world as had been built around his sleeping body as being anything other than a discomfort or intrusion. It had not, unfortunately, kept him from understanding, as he gave one last rub of a hand over his eyes to open them and blink at the surroundings he found himself in, that he was not in the diner he'd spotted just off the road.

There were, for one, no green vinyl booths that had looked shabby even through a dusty window. No checkered flooring. No beleaguered heavy-set woman with a red-painted scowl or scuffed from the road customers. All this was obvious for the fact that he stood on the polished wooden floor of a grand lobby that put everything but Stark Towers to shame.
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[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
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[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.

Nov. 24th, 2013 04:12 pm
themadmanwithabox: (hope from the gloom)
[personal profile] themadmanwithabox
There are moments, here and there, in which the Doctor travels alone. He doesn't like to do it, prefers to see the wonder of seeing the universe for the first time through the eyes of a companion, but circumstances can be bit of a hefty thing and so he's alone now and that's something that has to change. He's parked the TARDIS in front of a door he's scanned deliberately for activity that leads straight to one place and one only.

(Or, well, if the TARDIS is in a bit of a mood, it could lead to somewhere else, but he does hope they're not at odds today)

Standing there with a sonic screwdriver in hand and a hopeful smile on his lips, he rests his fingers on the handle cautiously and wonders how it took him so long to get back to this. The universe and all its' alternates and in its' entirety has never stopped being magnificent and wonderful and expansive and perfect, but human beings and all the different species that have populated the universe are no less amazing and sometimes he forgets that.

The doors here are universal and endless and there's a kind of physics at work that he doesn't quite understand and that makes the Nexus Hotel one of the Doctor's favourite places in the whole universe right now.

The fact that the people here are just as incredible doesn't hurt.

"Geronimo," he whispers to himself, manic grin on his face as he opens the door so that anyone looking sees straight inside, nearly all the way to the heart of the TARDIS. He leans against the door and waits for the first person to pass by. "Fancy a trip?" he asks, loose and slack and cool as he asks, waving the sonic around as if he's scanning the atmosphere. "Anywhere you like," he says to the passing hotel staff, who barely even give him the time of day. "Future or past!" he insists, a little louder as he gets more desperate. "Anywhere!" he says to the maid who stares at him with mild disdain. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I haven't stolen any of your pillows."

"...Today," he grumbles. "All of time and space and no one wants a trip," he says, shaking his head in awe. "You!" he says, pointing down the hall to the approaching body. "Want to see my spaceship? It's bigger on the inside."

Nov. 22nd, 2013 11:24 pm
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[personal profile] malachai
All things considered, Nick thought as he walked back through the corridor towards the pirate door, he probably shouldn't have brought a vampire with him. In his defense, his intentions had been wholly honorable. He knew Bella was having issues with boredom here - being completely unable to sleep she had a lot of hours to fill.

When he'd found the door that opened into a cabin on a pirate ship, he'd thought she'd have a good time. And they had.

Until two of the lackeys got into over something stupid and they'd both drawn swords. They'd taken their swipes at each other and really, it had all been straightforward enough. They weren't all that skilled at it.

Unfortunately, unskilled equated blood being drawn. Lots of blood being drawn.

Bella had good control, exceptional control, but an alcoholic into a vat of whiskey and bad things will happen.

He'd been able to use his powers to bind her and his strength to carry her back through the door and carry her through the hotel to the door to her forest. He didn't know how she'd fare running through the forest in the pirate wench's outfit he'd found in the cabin for her, but at least she wouldn't have human blood in her system and he wouldn't be disposing of a body. He felt he owed as much to Edward...even if he wasn't here, even if this Bella wasn't the same as the one he knew on the island.

Now that she was off hunting, he was in the mood to get back to some piracy.

Find Nick headed back to the pirate door in full pirate gear, with eyepatch. You can also find Bella coming out of a different door wearing her own pirate gear but probably with a few leaves and twigs in her hair and blood on her clothes.
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[personal profile] concierge
A large, decorative sign situated prominantly in the lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents its

Formal Reception
Nexus Dining Hall
6 PM - Midnight

Monster Mixer
Nexus Basement
8 PM - 2 AM

Masquerade attire recommended for all guests

Most of the chairs have been removed from the Dining Hall to allow for ballroom-style dancing to the orchestra set up on the far end of the room. A polished cherry wood open bar is aligned along one wall. The adjacent Bistro is open for the duration of the formal reception, serving gourmet hors d'oeuvres.

Downstairs, the basement's largest storeroom has been converted into a spooky nightclub, complete with DJ, dance floor and cocktails.

Oct. 18th, 2013 01:38 pm
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[personal profile] malachai
After nearly two years of living human on a desert island that was disconnected from reality as it was possible to be and still sustain life, Nick had learned the meaning of "roll with it" pretty well.

Hell, his whole fucking life had been an exercise in rolling with it.

Coming to terms with doors to nowhere sitting right next to doors to horror movies didn't even raise an eyebrow. It just was and that was that.

Finding the martial arts studio for his sparring match with Thor had been perfect. So perfect he'd expected it to disappear when they went back through it, both of them limping and aching a little but grinning from exertion that had actually challenged them both.

Then he'd found it again the next night. When it had still been there three nights later, he decided to start making use of it as long as it was here. Two years of nothing but a heavy bag were fine, but he'd let his form get rusty. Something the fight with Thor had proven in spades.

He was there again tonight after leaving a note on his personal training sign in the gym indicating where he could be found if anyone was looking for him. He left the door propped open and took a spot on the center of the mats, loose cotton drawstring pants and t-shirt moved like there was a light breeze in the room as he moved through forms.

OOC: Find Nick in a martial arts studio that probably has some cosmetic damage from a god and a demon in hand-to-hand combat. The door is off one of the main hallways and propped open. If you frequent the gym, you've seen his sign advertising personal training.


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