concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
designerebel: (cinna § 73)
[personal profile] designerebel
[ OPTION ONE ]

Ask and you shall receive. It's been months ago that Cinna has requested an area to work in. The hotel has given him a space on the first floor near the cafe. Supplies have been gathered and the space redone to accommodate Cinna and his craft. That's right, there's officially a clothier's shop in the hotel. Cinna is indeed in his element.

Upon first entry to the shop it looks very unassuming and casual. There's the mixed aroma of freshly brewed tea and coffee as well as some pastries brought over from the cafe. The front half of the shop holds everyday clothes that seem to be the norm of what most of the people in the hotel wear, things like tees and sweaters and jeans and shorts. In the middle of the shop there's a round dark mahogany table with three high-backed plush armchairs around it. The armchairs are cushioned black with golden embellishments. Toward the back is where Cinna's influence shows through more prominently; clothing, both everyday and formal with unique and futuristic flares and touches. It's Couture at its finest. There are tall, large mirrors in the back as well as dressing rooms.

It should also be noted that as he has befriended both Milady and Aramis, there is attire befitting both men and women from their time period in Paris. Beautiful gowns and carefully stitched shirtsleeves and doublets. Cinna is always accommodating and will take special orders all day every day.

Outside of the space is a bracket with a swinging sign placard bearing the shop's name in an elegant golden script: Design by Cinna.

Cinna can almost always be found at the mahogany table in the center of the shop, sitting in one of the chairs with material draped over his lap and needle and thread in hand. He'll welcome anyone to his new shop. Please feel free to stop by!


[ OPTION TWO ]

Oftentimes Cinna can be found in the conservatory, sitting among the plant life and sketching new designs. It's peaceful in there. He'll greet and chit chat with most anyone who happens upon him.

However, one day he opens a door that he thinks goes to his hotel room but finds himself in the outdoors instead. The environment is boisterous and loud, crowds walking through fairways and strange music in the air. The sky is blue overhead, with the occasional cloud here and there. There are shops and tents and big contraptions with some kind of transport on them that has people screaming as they zip over rails.

Cinna, coming from Panem, has never seen anything like it. A man comes by and offers him a stick with a ball of pink cotton on top of it. What is it? He sees someone else with something similar eating the cotton. So he pinches some off and puts it in his mouth. The sugary sweetness surprisingly melts in his mouth.

Certainly, a place such as this can't be anything bad, right? Cinna is off to explore the amusement park.
aspecialkindofwoman: (choker)
[personal profile] aspecialkindofwoman
There are many descriptors that can be applied to Milady deWinter. Perhaps the most important is the term survivor.

She will always do what she needs to do to survive. She's not surprised that things turned out how they did. Not really. She has learned to expect the worst.

But here she is back in this place. This strange, modern place where she can, if she wants, be anything she wants to be. Milady supposes now is the time to figure that out. Surely, it's only a matter of time before Athos lives through what she has. Will he still want her?

Someone will. Surely.

She sits at the hotel bar, draining one glass of sharp, bitter alcohol and signalling for another, her skirt - the finest Parisian silk - covering the barstool, the curve of her shoulder gleaming in the low light.

Feb. 28th, 2016 09:49 am
armedagainstlove: (pick an argument)
[personal profile] armedagainstlove
June, The Nexus

One remaining glove is all Athos has in France to track down Anne, but luckily for the both of them, they know a hotel where they might discuss the future and their relationship.

some mature content
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.
designerebel: (cinna § 65)
[personal profile] designerebel
For the first few days Cinna stays in his room. He's suffered a loss so great that it's painful beyond the telling of it. Who can speak those words? Cinna cannot, in spite of his usual eloquence. He's had to relive his own demise right up to his death. In a sense, it leaves him numb. But a man like Cinna cannot stay that way forever. He has to feel. He has to exist. He is not an ungrateful man when he is given something so great that it's very near inexplicable. He should be dead. His life, this life in The Nexus, is a miraculous thing - the impossible made possible. He will not squander the gift that has been given to him.

He dresses well in spite of the ache in his bruised muscles as he does so. Cinna doesn't like looking anything but well put together. By his fourth day the wounds on his body have scabbed over. The bruises have turned deep purple and yellow. He doesn't try to cover them up with makeup. There is no sense in that and he knows they'll be gone soon enough. He does don some of his token golden eyeliner. It makes him feel more human. It makes him feel more like himself, tiny gold lines outlined and embellished in black that serve him as well as the greatest suit of armor ever made. He is alive. He exists. He is a fighter in his own right even without conventional weapons. He is Cinna.

He understands The Nexus somewhat in thanks to his time in another very different place although similar in mechanics. Also, in thanks to the kindness of a man he is still indebted to who had helped him understand what was happening when he'd only first arrived a few days ago. He understands that it is a hub of some sort. He also understands that he cannot go home. That is a fate of his own design that he doesn't want to live through again.

It is now, four days later, that he decides to get out and explore this, The Nexus, as Aramis had called it. He can be found anywhere really, moving with an elegance and grace that is intrinsic to him, looking in rooms and shops, outside and inside. Not only does he want to become acquainted with his new home, but he's in search of food and the familiarity of a needle and thread in his hands if he can find it. That's all he needs, really. For now.
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.]

May. 30th, 2015 09:36 pm
boldly_going: (Smirk; crop)
[personal profile] boldly_going
Jim has spent the last month or so investigating the various doors that make up this Nexus and he has yet to discover the rhyme or reason behind it. It seems like the Nexus is some sort of hub between universes, some sort of place where inter-dimensional travel is nothing more than walking through a door to a new destiny. It doesn't have the same impact as piloting a ship, of course, but it's not half bad.

Jim wants to know more. He thinks that there's enough doors out there to warrant further investigation on more than just an intellectual level. What if there are refugees who need a haven or resources they could harness to make the Nexus better? These things are the crux of his own five-year mission, the one he's temporarily detoured from, and he thinks he should continue it in whatever way he can.

As much as he likes to think he can do this on his own, Starfleet has taught him that teams are always a better option. Four heads are usually better than one and he thinks if they could organize teams of four to explore the doors, they could do recon and research and catalog the new worlds they encounter and put together a database of which worlds are safe and which are never to be explored alone.

He puts out an announcement on the hotel's network for those interested to meet him in the Smoking Room for a drink and sets up there, enjoying a nice glass of whiskey.
armedagainstlove: (!switch)
[personal profile] armedagainstlove
Athos doesn't even realize what's happened, at first.

Ever since Milady had arrived insisting that Athos had been on his way to meet her, ever since he had returned back to Paris and discovered Aramis' treason with the Queen and the result of such a coupling, ever since Rochefort's rearrival on the scene caused him to slouch back to the Nexus, he has been drinking like he hasn't since right after his wife's supposed death. It is in this state that he'd fumbled through a well-known door that he'd thought harmless to him.

Intoxicated with the red wine, he does not notice the shift of gravity in his body, nor the length of his hair different, swept up by the hat. All Athos knows is that he has drank two bottles and is eager for a third, lest he fall into the eager pit of grief and the other complicated affections that lie in wait for him, all coaxed on by the woman whose locket he no longer wears.

When he arrives at the bar for his usual, he's met with confusion. The bartender states that she hasn't been around enough to have a usual. Athos smacks his palm against the counter, his rage brought forward with the incense of it all. "Wine," he snaps, calming himself before his demands grow angrier and more frustrated. "Just bring me wine," he mutters, voice hoarse from the drink.

He slumps into his seat and peers down for the first time, unsteadily taking account of how his clothes now seem to sag and slump on him. Sighing with the inevitable realisation, he lifts an elegant long-fingered hand to the bartender. "Make that two," he adds, before allowing his forehead to collapse against that waiting hand.

How could he have thought this would pass him by forever?

He grasps both bottles of wine greedily when they arrive, eager to trudge back to his room and escape the prying eyes of the public.
aspecialkindofwoman: (hair up)
[personal profile] aspecialkindofwoman
April 2 | The halls

Milady arrives to the hotel and immediately finds the first and last person she's looking for.

No warning | Rated U for unrequited and unresolved | ongoing


~~
April 6 - Open

One of the things that has kept the woman known as Milady de Winter alive in all she's been through: she is resilient and she is tough and she is opportunistic. She has learned what she thinks there is to learn about this place and eyed a few doors, but she hasn't tried any yet. This isn't cowardice; it's canniness. She needs to know what she's doing. So this is how she comes to wander through the shop then making her way to the Smoking room. She's looking at everything and everyone; the clothing some wear here is ... intriguing. She's tempted to take some; it would be easy enough. But in the meantime, she walks, hip swinging, offering a smile at the men that she thinks could benefit her, while sizing up the women. She'll have a drink or maybe more, seeing who might be buying.

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