concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Jun. 8th, 2014 10:39 pm
tooktheblack: (on the wall)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
Jon had often been accused of needless melancholy on the island but his life in Westeros had left very little time for mirth or good cheer and was often mired in death and mourning and hours and hours of duty. The island had given him cause to smile and had given him time with his brothers and sister again but that, too, had been taken away from him. No matter how much he searched the worlds beyond the doors, he could not find one that led back to the island and there was no way to see Robb again.

He missed him. It was like mourning his death all over again and it was something that kept him up late this night, pouring over a bit of paper as he tried to work out a complicated family tree with all their island relations added in to those he knew from Westeros. There would be Robb's children to account for, along with Delirium and her children too. There was Bran and their added family in the form of Hiccup and Merida, those who hailed from other worlds that seemed similar to Westeros even if they were not quite the same.

And, of course, there was one important person he needed to add in the middle of his family tree, one who had come to mean everything to him.

Jon Snow - Leah Clearwater


He had taken vows to never take a wife when on the Night's Watch but now, three years removed from Lord Commander and Westeros entirely, those vows seemed distant and hazy. He had been with Leah for long enough to know that he loved her and wanted to be with her for as long as the gods would allow. He had contemplated asking for her hand on the island but had never done it, too wary of breaking his vows in front of those from Westeros who knew what swearing allegiance to the Night's Watch truly meant but now in the Nexus, there was nobody who knew the significance of those vows. Those scarce few from the island wouldn't care if he broke his vows in the letter of the law; he had already been breaking the spirit of them for years.

"It seems I need to make an offer for her," he said to himself, heedless of anyone else listening. There was the matter of figuring out a way to ask, as Leah wasn't swayed by traditional displays of courtly chivalry, but Jon was reasonably sure she would answer him yes.

Or, so he hoped.

May. 13th, 2014 08:24 pm
quileutejacob: (from the side)
[personal profile] quileutejacob
Jacob mostly kept to a set schedule on the island. Wake up, teach his class if school was in session, work on anything at the Homestead that needed repairing and head home to spend time with Belle. It was a bit predictable and occasionally broken up by going to see Bella and the baby or Coraline but it was his life and he loved it.

The island, of course, occasionally decided to throw a wrench in those plans and if his way home became a swamp or there was a freak blizzard, Jacob tried to take it in stride and just keep moving on. It wasn't anything new after three years and some change, right? Except today. He'd pulled open the door to his and Belle's little house expecting to see his wife working on some new invention...and got greeted with a complete decor change.

So the new carpet was nice. So was the air conditioning, which wasn't available in abundance on the island (being inside a room without feeling hot and sticky and without the air so thick that he could breathe without drowning was a novelty) but he couldn't figure out how it got here. Was this some trick? Some temporary decorating change that was going away whenever the island's wacky magic decided to swing back to (relatively) normal? Jacob didn't know. Smarter people than him had been stumped by the island and he had never professed to be into researching or anything that involved reading or sitting still for very long.

But the biggest change about this place was the little undercurrent of power he felt. There was a little ripple, a little spark in the air and it just felt different than he'd felt in the three years since he'd shown up on the island and resigned himself to not being able to shift anymore. Maybe he'd learned to live without that part of himself but he'd never really accepted it and he sure as hell had never rejected it. Could it be? Was the wolf still under there after all and he was finally in a place where he could access it?

He turned the corner away from the front desk and let loose on his control, feeling his body shift and change into the wolf he hadn't been since showing up on the sandy beaches of Tabula Rasa all those years ago.

Finally.

[[See Jacob either before or after he shifts into a wolf - don't worry, he's not going to bite.]]

Feb. 12th, 2014 03:31 pm
talking_fishbone: (Well I mean...hey)
[personal profile] talking_fishbone
Hiccup was plenty used to weird. After all, he’d grown up amongst vikings too stubborn to move away from their inhospitable spit of dragon-infested land. Then he’d lived three years on a magic island that was prone to changing at a whim as it played host to gods, men, and manifestations of insanity.

This? This was a whole new level of weird.

Not the breakfast bar. That was fine. In fact, it was really good, especially the ready supply of bacon. The change of location was the strange part, as well as the change of faces that came with it. Wandering the hall, Hiccup had seen a few familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. The lack of recognition or population made it pretty obvious this wasn’t the Island in one of its changeable moods, but that only answered one of several questions as he mulled over his toast, eggs, and coffee.

When he’d arrived in the lobby this morning, he’d been readily presented with a hotel key that unlocked a very big, luxurious bedroom as well as a new smartphone. It was as if this place, wherever it was, had plans to keep him here for the long haul. He wasn’t sure if he was particularly thrilled about the change, but never let it be said that he wasn’t adaptable if necessary.

Wrapping up some more bacon in a napkin for Toothless, he stood up, neatly avoiding a collision with someone else with the same idea. “Sorry! Excuse me!”

Feb. 1st, 2014 12:34 pm
tooktheblack: (on the wall)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
The door to Westeros was unassuming and like every other door in the hotel but Jon found that he always knew where it was and how to get it to open so it wasn't a broom closet and it was a way back home. He had been tempted a few times but had never ventured more than a few steps, just satisfying himself with the crunch of his boots against fresh-fallen snow. Today, though, he meant to go further.

Ghost was restless with having been cooped up in the hotel for weeks and while neither of them had liked the heat of the island, there had at least been the jungle to explore and hunt. The places the hotel led were stranger still and none of them that he had found so far had the kind of place he felt comfortable letting Ghost roam in, except one: Westeros. The North had always been his home and after Winterfell, the Wall and Castle Black had become as much a home as a bastard boy would ever have. It was dangerous to go back there considering his own men had tried to kill him but he thought he might journey to one of the other castles, one long abandoned due to simply not having enough men to garrison it.

Rimegate and Sable Hall were far enough away from the manned castles to be safe enough and would provide shelter should the snows grow too deep. Jon wasn't in fear of that. He was well-acquainted with how to survive in the North and knew how best to keep himself safe and warm should a storm come up. It was here that he felt more comfortable than anywhere else - be that the hotel, the island or somewhere in between. It was here that his purpose lay.

"Come, Ghost. Let's go home for a little while and see if anything has changed."

[Find Jon at the open door that leads back to Westeros, which is very snowy and cold at the moment.]
concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
A large, decorative sign situated prominantly in the lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents its
ANNUAL NEW YEARS EVE PARTY

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. 5th, 2013 12:19 pm
tooktheblack: (Default)
[personal profile] tooktheblack
Jon spent most of his days on the island ranging, both on his own and as a part of his duties for the IPD. Today, he and Ghost had walked most of the perimeter surrounding the dinosaurs and found nothing out of the ordinary so they’d headed deep into the jungle to hunt. While it was boring to have no real threats, Jon couldn’t say that he preferred his life in peril every time he and Ghost took to the paths. While it was no real challenge to hunt boar and jungle fowl, it was better than being killed by a dinosaur or frozen to death by a wight.

But today, deep in the jungle, there seemed to be a little building that Jon didn’t recognize. It was almost like an overgrown hut, in a way, and he wondered if someone was living out here. If they were, he guessed it was no business but their own but the Council might want a record of it so they could keep track of the comings and goings; it seemed there were more disappearances than arrivals these days and Jon wasn’t sure what that meant. Ghost trotted ahead of him, pawing at the door of the hut and Jon’s mind was made up. He would see what was in this hut, if it was abandoned of if someone was living there, and then go back to the IPD office to make a report of it to the commander there. It would likely be nothing but, considering the island and its nature, Jon would rather be certain of nothing than to be caught unawares.

He tugged open the door and stepped inside, expecting the must of mold and animal droppings and not cool, clean air and plush carpets. The inside of this building seemed much larger than the outside and he peered back at the island, the jungle overgrowth and cloying heat, before deciding to venture further into this new place. It was something the Council would likely want to know about and Jon thought that having a detailed report to give them would be better than coming back empty-handed and knowing nothing.

It seemed to be an inn of some sort but of the modern variety he’d seen in films and not what he was used to in Westeros. There were plush carpets and cool air, ostensibly from air conditioning, and the building was much larger than the Compound. How had it fit inside that tiny, unassuming hut? How was this possible? While Jon was no real fan of magic, he had encountered enough of it on the island to know that it could occasionally be benevolent. There was usually a catch to that, though, and he kept himself aware as he and Ghost trod through the hallways.

There were other doors here and there and Jon tried a few of them. One opened into an ornate bathroom of some sort, with a fancy claw-foot tub and gold fixtures. Interesting, but not something he cared to explore further. Another door opened into a library filled with books and he made a note to tell Richard about it to pass along to his lady, who loved to read. More doors revealed a garden, another city and some sort of game room and Jon closed them all, thinking that it was high time he and Ghost went back to the island and brought a full group in to investigate this place more thoroughly.

He made his way back to the door he’d come through some time earlier and pulled it open, frowning deeply when he saw nothing more than brooms and mops and not the island he’d left behind. He closed it and tried it again - this time, the door opened to a forest of weirwood with thick snow on the ground, something that could never exist on the island because it was far too hot for that much snow and besides, even in December there was never an entire forest of weirwood. The door had opened to Westeros and, more importantly, had opened to some place beyond the Wall and in the far North.

“Why do I feel the sense that we’re never going back there, Ghost?” he asked, watching the direwolf’s face carefully. Ghost was more intelligent than a dog and sometimes Jon felt like he and Ghost were one, that he’d become a warg just like Varamyr Sixskins. It wasn’t something he could do easily and usually not consciously but the result was that they were closer than a man and his pet usually were. Ghost put his head on his paws and looked through the door, watching snow fall among the weirwood trees.

“I know. It’s tempting. Let’s try to find the island again. I am not ready to give that up yet, no matter how tempting it might be to feel snow crunching beneath my boots once more. We have to find the island and tell the others about this place. We can’t leave Robb and Leah and Bran behind.”

So Jon began pulling at doors again, increasingly more frustrated when each door failed to reveal the island he so desperately wanted to get back to.

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