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Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
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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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"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.
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March 6th | Nexus Lobby

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

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