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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
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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.
lip_service: (ew)
[personal profile] lip_service
"Sir, I'm sorry, but you can't do that here."

Lip cranes his head upwards to where some stick of a kid that looks barely older than Ian is wearing the stupidest hat he's ever seen in his life and telling him that he can't smoke. Busboy, he realizes, judging by the way he's shifting the bin of dishes awkwardly in his hands. Sure, Lip's pretty aware that this place is not even close to where a Gallagher belongs, but he kind of figured smoking isn't the end all and be all of sins he could commit.

He props himself up on the cushion, deliberately and slowly taking a longer drag of the cigarette before exhaling it in the kid's face, watching as he wrinkles his nose and tries to step back. "For the other customers..."

"Does it say that anywhere?" Lip cuts him off. "I mean, are you gonna bring me the long list of unwritten-written rules that says I can't smoke in here or is this because you don't want someone like me in here grubbing up the place?"

The kid shifts awkwardly and sure, he's probably just some health freak who hates cigarette smoke, but Lip's hackles are up and all he can think about is how his hoodie doesn't match the chandelier color scheme and while he's never been kicked out of the dining room, exactly, he's definitely gotten a lot of shitty looks for when he decides to eat and study at the same time (or eat and absently work on his projects). Lip rolls his eyes and stubs out the butt in the middle of the plate, grabbing his things as he wanders backwards, shrugging wildly and giving the busboy the finger as he gives in.

There's a part of him that really wants to do something incredibly stupid, like try and bring that chandelier crashing down, but the saner part of him persists because free room, free board, and occasional free food and time stopping isn't the kind of thing he's ready to abandon.

At least, not at this point in his life. It still doesn't mean he has to be happy about some little shit telling him he doesn't belong. "Asshole," Lip mutters as he digs through his pockets to find a new cigarette to light as he steps onto the front lawn to get away from them.
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.]
lip_service: (blue hood)
[personal profile] lip_service
March 6th | Nexus Lobby

Checking in, Lip Gallagher. Checking out? His sanity, apparently.

In Progress / Profanity
notgivingyourmoneyback: Harvey having a drink, looking over his shoulder ([neu] having a drink)
[personal profile] notgivingyourmoneyback
He's gotten used to being in this place. Oh, it took a long time, but he got there. Though, he's not sure he can rightly say exactly how long he's been here.

Though, he has experienced quite a bit. A couple costume parties, a super power that he didn't want - the man who is anti-feelings does not want the power of 'empathy'. It didn't make him understand feelings any better. Mostly, it made him feel like Mike - his associate back home. There was an almost-run-in with dinosaurs - narrowly avoided - and a high school prom. He's still not sure how he got talked into that one.

So, after that excitement, he's taking a few minutes to hang out in the bar and have a drink. Or two. Maybe more. Talk to some people. Enjoy a little downtime, as it were. Possibly even figure out if he likes it here or not.

Or, if anyone knows how he can get back home.
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[personal profile] concierge
Throughout the day on the 14th, the Nexus staff deliver single roses and accompanying notes to designated hotel guests in celebration of the Valentine's Day holiday. For some, the gesture will be a foregone conclusion; for others, it will be a surprise. For some, they might only guess at who sent them the gift in the first place.

[Comments with deliveries will follow are done. You may reply to yours with a reaction if you like!]
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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.
not_lost: (Default)
[personal profile] not_lost
It was turning out to be a subdued holiday season for Fiona, but with the chaos of the last year, she definitely didn't have any complaints. There was enough distance now between her and the worst of what had happened that she was able to really reflect on it all, and the calm atmosphere definitely made that easier. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little bummed at not being able to buy some extra presents for the kids this year, but she still had her bartending job and that meant the squirrel fund would stay full through the winter. She honestly couldn't ask for any more than that.

Today she was at that same job, writing in careful print on the large chalkboard behind the bar:

December Drink Specials

Candy Cane Cocktail
Maple Butter Kiss
The Keats
Cherry Brandy Old Fashioned
Layered Christmas Shooter

She stepped back, dusting chalk from her hands as she looked over the list. Most of them she'd never made before, but she was a Gallagher, and that meant two things: She was adaptable and good with booze.

Turning, she offered a smile. "What can I get you?"

[Smoking Room gathering post! Tag Fiona and/or each other!]
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[personal profile] not_lost
Her hair smelled like old grease.

The step into the Nexus had been unexpected, the dim clatter of Charlie's diner giving abruptly away to the chill cavern of the hotel lobby. The air was scented with fresh cut flowers and floor polish, Fiona a lone miasma of fried food and cheap coffee, and she regarded the scene before her with the weary acknowledgment of the working class. To think, she had once felt like she might actually belong in a place like this, as if trying hard enough made some sort of difference.

Shoulders still slumped, post-shift and tired, she looked to her feet with an outward twist of her right ankle. The hem of her skinny jeans was rucked up, caught against the sturdy black tracker strapped around her ankle. No blinking red light, no heart-stopping beeping. She guessed the purview of the Illinois Department of Corrections didn't reach across dimensions.

Gathering herself with a pop of her spine, she made her way on silent sneakers past the front desk and to the hotel business offices to see if she still had a job.

Fifteen minutes later she was perched on a stool in the Smoking Room, one elbow braced against the polished bar top, chin cradled against her palm as she stared into a tumbler of whiskey. She needed a long, hot bath and a soft bed, but this felt more familiar. More appropriate.
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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] not_lost
Last Tuesday, Fiona had finished a morning shift at the Smoking Room, had a quick shower in her room, and headed back home to the slushy Chicago streets. Ever-mindful of the constant march of time at the Nexus, she'd only been home for about twelve hours before she'd opened the door to head back, only to find herself faced with the tiny closet of a bathroom that she'd last seen months before. It had been her go-to door, had never failed.

That was nearly three months ago.

When she'd opened the bathroom door today, it had been to use the toilet. Standing on the threshold, she'd stared with sober finality out at the cool, glittering lobby, hesitated a moment, and then stepped through, slamming the door behind her. She glanced toward the front desk. It was still Tuesday morning.

Upstairs, she'd shucked off her pencil skirt and heavy winter coat, and had soaked in a whirlpool tub for almost an hour. Afterward, she'd tried to open a door home so that she could collect some more clothes, planning an extended stay. Three times she'd tried, and it hadn't worked. She'd stared at the door for awhile, and then wrapped herself in a fluffy bathrobe and went calmly downstairs to buy a bathing suit from the shop.

Minor spoilers for Shameless 4x04 )

There was no outdoor swimming pool here and no beach, so Fiona had carried a towel and a six pack down to one of the gardens and spread herself out next to the soothing gurgle of a fountain. On her back in a black string bikini, dark sunglasses obscuring her eyes, she reached for her first beer, intent on drinking them all.

Fuck it. Just fuck it all.

[Hover for notes.]

Feb. 4th, 2014 12:53 am
littlerubyred: (happy!)
[personal profile] littlerubyred
It had taken Ruby a few days to come to terms with her new situation, though a rare show of practicality had won out in the end after a lengthy discussion with Sheriff Graham and the man she knew as David Nolan. She wasn't going to be leaving the Nexus any time soon, at least not for a permanent return to her home, and if she was going to stay in the hotel, money had to be made for the sake of general upkeep. Her skills were admittedly limited, though thankfully there was work to be had in the hotel for someone who had grown up in a world of customer service and food preparation. Getting a job in the bar had seemed an appropriate change of pace, or at least all the change she could currently handle in a world that had been turned inside out for the moment, and after she'd been accepted for the position she'd started almost right away.

In addition to being a decidedly and thrillingly more swank environment than she was used to, the clientele was definitely more diverse in that it was a room full of people she'd never met before. For all she lacked in knowledge concerning the outside world she was attempting to put forth enough effort in charming everyone to get by in terms of the standard awkwardness she had purely by being the new girl in a very strange and new environment. She'd been serving the same food and drinks to basically the same people for longer than she cared to remember, and if this was her first attempt at branching out, she didn't want to botch it up.

The small, round tray was steady on the flat of her palm as she sat a round of drinks down at one of the tables, smiling when the patrons paused their conversation to gesture their thanks, and then continued their conversation. Ruby continued on, too, tucking her now empty tray under her arm as she looked around for someone waiting to be served.
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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. 17th, 2013 02:32 pm
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[personal profile] rangerbecket
When he sleeps, he remembers.

It’s been five years since Raleigh lost Yancy and he still wakes up sometimes in the middle of the night (or afternoon, as it was just a nap this time and not overnight) thinking his brother should be there, that they should be cutting up and finishing each others’ sentences and suiting up to go fight kaiju. Instead, there’s an empty hole where Yancy used to be and Raleigh’s not sure that it’s ever going to be filled in again and, more importantly, Raleigh’s not sure he wants it to be. As fucked up as it is, this is the only time he gets to see and hear Yancy anymore and he clings to it even if it’s probably not the healthiest choice.

It seems to help to have a purpose to fill his days besides welding on the wall. He’s glad Pentecost roped him back into being a Ranger even if he’d been against it at first because at least he’s fighting for something instead of just fighting so he doesn’t have to feel anything.

The hotel is a frustrating stumbling block in that process because while he’s here, he gets lulled into thinking it’s safe. There’s plenty to eat; Raleigh spent his whole first day gorging himself on meat and bread and shit that they just can’t get back home with all the rationing. There’s no televisions blaring about the latest kaiju attack, about people dying painful deaths from Kaiju Blue, about the military arguing whether or not Jaegers are worth the hassle when they can just build a wall to keep them out. The hotel is a bubble, safe, and Raleigh has to constantly remind himself that this is temporary. This isn’t something he can let himself get used to.

He’s pretty sure he’s not going to go back to sleep any time soon so he ends up pulling on a shirt and sliding into his boots, wandering without a purpose. There’s dozens and dozens of rooms in this place and he’s pretty sure he’ll never explore them all. He winds up in a room with a couple pool tables and thinks maybe this is a decent way to pass the time until the memories of Yancy fade a little.

He racks the balls and pulls out a cue, thoughtfully chalking the tip while he tries to decide how he wants to play, which angles to hit. This had always been a fun exercise with Yancy and had almost always ended in a draw; when you Drift as much as he did with his brother, you almost start sharing thoughts outside it. Raleigh nods at the person closest to him, asking if they want to start a game.

“I call stripes. Ten, corner pocket.”

It’s a welcome distraction.
concierge: (Default)
[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.
thelostprince: (005)
[personal profile] thelostprince
This door was interesting.

Instead of leading to another place in the hotel, he found himself somewhere altogether different. For a moment, Loki wondered if this was going to be another form of being stranded - that he was hopping from one universe to the next, cutting himself further and further away from the world he knew, and making his way back would be a long and arduous journey. This did occur to him. He shut the door behind him anyway, and did not bother to open it again.

He stood outside of what looked to be a storefront. Like everything else he had come across lately it was Midgardian in its smallness and style, yet that was the only thing boring about it. The world he looked upon was grey and dim, and there was that sound, near silent but pressing in on the ears, of falling snow. Of course, it wasn't snow, and had been the first thing to tug at his curiosity.

Stepping out from under the overhang, he held out his hand, which looked startlingly pale in the light, and touched the ash that landed in his palm. He smeared it slightly. It wasn't volcanic, he didn't think. While the world was cool and dim he could feel a heat burning, though he wasn't sure where from.

"I think I like this place," he decided aloud. Loki did not feel alone, instead sensed that there was someone in his blind spot, hovering. Wherever he did not look he was missing a secret, a hidden danger, and that alone thrilled him. Caution be damned; he was tired of it. He set off, leaving bootprints in the ash.

Sep. 30th, 2013 05:40 pm
has_nothing: (pic#5937491)
[personal profile] has_nothing
It's not like Jesse didn't notice Mr. White giving him the brush-off after the meet. He'd told Declan and his guys that they had two cooks, not one, and he hadn't wanted to talk about just how Jesse was eventually going to get his share of the money. Mr. White needed time or whatever to make a transition and get his new operation up and running, and wanted Jesse to help out.

The problem is, Jesse' s not sure if it's bullshit or not.

Because he's told Mr. White a couple of times now that he's out. After Drew Sharp and all, he can't do it anymore. Every time they say nobody else is going to get hurt, it happens. Combo. Jane. Brock. And now somebody's kid is gone and they're never gonna know what happened to him. Just gone forever because Jesse had said the wrong thing to that douchebag Todd, who apparently thought "no one finds out about this" meant shooting some innocent kid on a bike.

Mike had said there was a time bomb about to go off, and Jesse'd made the mistake of sticking around long enough to watch it go off. And the worst part is, he's pretty sure Mr. White doesn't even give a shit about what happened.

So Jesse helps with one last thing. He goes with Mr. White to the car wash he owns with Mrs. White to move the methylamine back to Vamanos. But after that, he doesn't hear from Mr. White, like at all. Not about whether he's talked to Mike, or about finally giving Jesse his cut. Nothing.

That's what brings Jesse back to Vamanos that afternoon. Standing outside, he finishes a cigarette, crushing the butt under the heel of his shoe before he enters, because they still store bug killing chemicals inside, even though it's separate from all the cook stuff.

No wait, not they. Just Mr. White. Because Jesse's out, no matter what happens when he walks through the door.

Except, he's expecting the garage of Vamanos Pest to be on the other side of the door, not what looks like the lobby of some hotel Jesse's never seen before. It sure as hell isn't The Crystal Palace, that's for sure.
not_lost: (15)
[personal profile] not_lost
There were a lot of really weird and screwed-up scenarios that Fiona Gallagher could imagine herself in. Her involvement in these scenarios was usually begrudging and her father usually the cause, but picturing herself caught up in something beyond most people's limit of belief had officially became much easier after this past summer. (Finding yourself crouching in a hole in your backyard, covered in sweat and dirt, and ecstatic over having unearthed a dead relative's remains could do that to a girl.)

Despite that, she had to admit that the Nexus was pretty fucking crazy, even by Gallagher standards.

It had been just at a week hotel time since she'd opened the downstairs bathroom door and found the Nexus beyond, but having a magical luxury hotel where her toilet should be freaked her out a lot less than the fact that the place was essentially free. In Fiona's experience, if something sounded too good to be true, it always was, and she probably should've gone home, chalked the whole experience up to some bad seafood and never thought about it again.

She probably would have, too, if the people at the desk hadn't told her the bit about time differences and job openings.

Christmas was right around the corner, and she'd spent almost everything Jimmy had left her on that damned deal for work. (Not that she was complaining; the money had come at the perfect time, and now they'd have enough plastic cups in the house that they probably wouldn't need to wash a single glass for half a year.) Back home, it would cost her 150 bucks to get herself licensed to sell alcohol, and she'd have no guarantee of being hired anywhere. Here, they apparently only cared that you could mix a drink, and a lifetime with Frank had more than prepared her for that. The great hourly wage and tips she was earning meant she could actually afford to get everything out of lay-away this year and maybe even buy some extra stocking stuffers for the kids. The circumstances may have been weird, but for Fiona taking the position was a no-brainer.

Today was her third day behind the bar at the Smoking Room. She'd allowed herself to come through early enough to get a solid nap before her shift and was now practically chipper, turning a wide smile to the guests waiting for a drink.

"What can I get you?"

For the first time in a long time, she actually felt good about the future.


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