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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
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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.
votecrowley: (a drink before smiting)
[personal profile] votecrowley
For the first time since he'd died and gone to Hell (for real, not any of those blunders that came after) no one was actively attempting to separate Crowley's head from his shoulders, and he really appreciated that. Being a demon was a dangerous existence, and it became even more so when your chosen occupation involved stepping on a lot of other demons to maintain it. It was true that as King of Hell he had more protection than most, but the amount of enemies went up exponentially with that promotion. That is to say, everyone was an enemy, and even if your employees didn't have the smarts or the guts or even the desire for the job they still got treasonous little ideas swimming around in their heads from time to time, and it was a requirement to crack them open if that was the case.

And now he had Abaddon, who was not only immortal, but incredibly irritating. He'd almost like her if it weren't for the fact she was gunning after his job, and his life.

He was aware of other universes and other worlds, not that he ever intended to go to any of them - he was fine in the one he was in, more or less. Besides, from what he understood you had to be all-powerful, like Death, or have some sort of key, like the one to Oz, to get to any one of the millions of fancy little spots in the universe worth going to. But this hotel presented itself to him, almost like a gift. Once he had ascertained that this was, truly, some sort of pocket universe existing beyond his own realm, and not some incredibly elaborate trap to kill him (so elaborate he would in fact be pretty flattered at all of that effort) he did the first thing any respectable demon would do: he looked for the bar.

Sitting at the counter and armed with three fingers of scotch (not Craig; that's the only reason he knew he had not stumbled accidentally into a deserted, angel-less Heaven (though that would also have been nice, and endlessly amusing, because)) Crowley turned to the nearest living, breathing, upright creation, which presumably was also equipped with a brain and the faculties for speech. "And how long have you been here, then?" he asked, bluntly. He could be a very charming, subtle creature when he wanted to, but that usually wasn't as fun.


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