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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Jan. 30th, 2014 07:13 pm
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[personal profile] three_two_one
Felicity was sitting in one of the sort of comfortable chairs in the Smoking Room, which thankfully didn't have anyone actually smoking in it, messing with her new phone and trying really hard to not look like a junkie getting a fix. Even though, yeah, she totally was. The computer graveyard she was given the month before was great, and the laptop she'd been able to make worked better than her greatest expectations.

But this was tech. Working tech that connected with a network. It was the first time she'd felt comfortable here since the day she and Ichabod had stumbled into the same hallway.

She still wasn't sure if anyone would see her post on the really weird paper, but since the phones had been handed out, she'd seen more than one person staring at theirs like it was about to punch them in the face or something. Because her parents still thought remote controls were the pinnacle of tech, she was used to the look.

If no one did, that was fine, too. She was perfectly happy to sit here and play...and figure out how to improve it.

Gathering post. Tag Felicity, tag in a top level to commiserate with others. Anyone else wanting to lend a hand tutoring the tech-unfriendly is welcome to tag in their services. Questions - hit Felicity's Dropbox

Nov. 10th, 2013 07:18 pm
lianyu: (007)
[personal profile] lianyu
His brief stint at the Halloween party had done nothing for Ollie but remind him that he really didn't want to be around people. The other inhabitants of the hotel seem (mostly) harmless enough, from what he's observed, but socializing doesn't have any appeal at all.

Unfortunately, his room doesn't carry much appeal, either. The constant changes -- which are just as strange as the skies outside -- at least have a pattern that he's been able to discern. Four nights of his bedroom at home, two nights of the wreck on the island. The wreck feels more like home than his bedroom does. His room is too neat, too familiar, and it has too many memories covering every square inch of it.

(There, where Ollie first admitted to being with Laurel. There, where they wrestled and he sprained his wrist. There, where they got ready to celebrate graduation. There where they-- and there, when he laughed about-- and there-- he's everywhere, and it cuts.)

It's a bedroom day, which means Ollie's wandering, looking for something to pass the time. Being outside and looking up at the sky still makes his stomach turn, so he usually waits until dusk for his daily run. After that, it's hitting the gym, and from there, it's a few laps in the pool.

Which is where Ollie is now, treading water in the deep end. It's quiet and warm, and if his mind goes wandering, he just sucks in a breath, pushes off the wall, and starts another ten laps.
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.

Oct. 18th, 2013 09:23 pm
sluttylyingliar: (unsure)
[personal profile] sluttylyingliar
Rachel hasn't really been brave enough to venture out of her room until now. She's managed to get Danny to bring her as much food as she's been able to keep down as she suffered through the gross and completely undignified detox process which doesn't even seem to be over yet but enough is enough. She looks like shit and she needs real food and she needs to see for herself, through clear eyes, that she's really stuck on some kind of magic hotel grounds.

She pulls on one of his oversized t-shirts he'd lent her and a pair of boxers and slips out the door, wondering where he is. He keeps insisting he goes back to Hawaii, where he lives in between being at the magic hotel, but it all sounds like some kind of unending acid trip. Hell, maybe she's dead and since she was really bad, this is her purgatory.

If it is, at least it has a salon. She wanders, wide eyed through the hallways as the place gets more and more grand. She's suddenly and painfully aware that she's not wearing makeup, her messy hair is piled in a bun and she's wearing a crazy male cop's clothes. She wraps her arms around her middle, the cash Danny'd given her clutched tight in her fist as she tries to decide where to start. This was stupid, she should just go back to the room.

She spins on her heel, eyes starting to water and promptly slams into someone, knocking her on her ass. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Open to all! This is Rachel Gatina's debut. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Visible track marks on her arms. She just slammed into her pup. She's very slight and about 5'5"

Sep. 11th, 2013 01:30 pm
the_watchtower: ([Fortune] Madonna)
[personal profile] the_watchtower
Chloe has been through some weird shit in the past several years. She's basically got a mark on her forehead that says, "Need a hostage? I'm available!" but she guesses that's mostly because of Clark Kent and not necessarily because of her.

This takes the cake. She woke up this morning in a really bad knockoff of Madonna's "Like A Virgin" get up and between the splitting headache and the memory loss, she's not really sure how she tumbled out of a closet and into the hallway of a hotel. She doesn't even know which hotel it is, except it's not Vegas or Metropolis or any other place she's ever been before in her life. It's sure as heck not Kansas anymore but where it is? She has no idea.

So she's screwed. More or less.

She wanders down the hallway and ends up finding the front desk, at least, so that's an improvement on her current situation. Not that it tells her much. There's a key for her and a room assignment and some instructions about the amenities and Chloe tunes it all out. She needs to know what the hell happened to her that she's got a big, black spot for the last 12-24 hours and she needs to find Clark and Lois or someone who was with her so she can start piecing things together again.

She guesses a regular person wouldn't care so much that they blacked out drunk but Chloe isn't a regular person. Her memory lapses tend to be the result of some catastrophic event on a global scale (well, maybe not exactly but they coincide) and she'd like to know that Metropolis isn't in a crater and looking suspiciously like the aliens won in Independence Day.

So she decides to go back to where it all started. She's in the hallway tugging at the door she tumbled out of, feet braced against it so she can pull at the handle with all the power that her five foot five can manage. It's not a lot.

"Oh my God, Clark? Could you please show up any time now?"


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