all_inclusive | Entries tagged with zz: alex kerkovich

Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

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

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
Coquito
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!]

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.

centrally

Scott hasn't actually been to his own prom, mostly because it's still first semester of junior year and while gatecrashing is the kind of thing Stiles would totally go for, they had the winter formal to tide them over and werewolf problems to keep them busy last year. He didn't mean to go to this prom either, but he's kinda getting used to opening doors and finding himself in weird places. Okay, he's not, but someone's high school prom is the most innocuous thing he's found yet. The normalcy of it all is probably why he steps through before remembering that he's just stepped into another world or something; but the door stays put, weirdly unnoticed by everyone else. A look down shows him that he's dressed appropriately too, something that would freak him out more if he weren't starting to get used to all this. Besides, the tux is the kind of thing that someone like Jackson could buy, but that Scott could never afford under regular circumstances — it was hard enough to get something workable together in time for the winter formal in Beacon Hills.

So he lingers, and if you happen to walk through his door he might approach you first; or you may find him hovering around the edges or food and punch tables, looking like he expects to get caught any minute, which he kind of does.

bonetown

Every month, Alex usually came to the same conclusion.

Sure, she could stick it out at home and pay her rent in pennies or in showing off her ankles to her landlord or trying to barter away Jane's organizing (which, while it had worked, is one of those go-tos that kind of get exhausted after a while). Or, she could head back to the Nexus and pick up a couple of shifts at the shop where she got to people watch and they paid her. Not only that, but she actually got to serve customers and she'll tell you this, sometimes she kind of forgets what that's like.

Still, there's enough lulls that she doesn't get super stressed and this is one of them. She's leaning her elbows forward, people-watching with a dazed expression on her face as she tries to make up stories about them, wondering where they came from and what cool histories they have. "Spy," she says when a brown-haired man passes. "Gay porn," she adds, when a blond one heads the other way.

Every once in a while, she has to help people, but she always gets back to that same people-gazing position from the shop counter, kind of missing Max and Penny because they would totally be good at this game. They were way better at these sorts of things than Alex was because she always hit a wall when her brain tries to go a little more than ten miles per hour.

Whatever, she thinks. It's not like she needs to be smart to watch cute guys. That only takes your eyeballs and she's got two of those, thank you very much.

sixsciencecredits

The sharp edge of shock and white static thrum of continuous fear upon arriving at the Nexus hotel had begun to fade, mostly because Darcy was five shots of Patrón into her demise and moving fast. It had been a conscious choice when she realized that she was a long, long way from home with no way back to just get so drunk she didn't give a shit, and it was an official success. Darcy had long moved past complacency and, thanks to the Patrón, was now inching towards the level of boisterous that would have her table dancing, if she thought this place was of the sort of calibre that could handle a bitchin', interpretive rendition of "Disco Stick." Since it probably wasn't that sort of place and Darcy didn't care to be escorted out of the hotel and onto some planet she had no working concept of, she was keeping her ass still and settling for occasionally humming.

She'd tried a door for the first time ever that day in search retail therapy and had actually found some boots to pair with her jeans that looked like they could fend off an alien invasion or whatever the fuck had been the catalyst behind landing her in the Nexus, though she assumed, as always, it was on either Jane or her boyfriend. Since she'd mustered the nerve to go shopping mostly because it was too ~~abysmally~~ pleasantly warm on the Nexus grounds for the clothes she'd been wearing in Norway, she'd felt she'd done enough for her day and could reward herself by basting in checked worry and booze. The hotel had given her a phone that worked as long as she wasn't trying to call anyone she needed to call, and the sheer level of frustration involved in being defeated by technology had been enough motivation to skip dinner and head straight for the drinking. She felt a little light-headed, but the blissful fog of approaching ignorance was definitely worth it.

She waved one of the waitresses over to order a sixth shot, and upon recognizing she had yet to truly speak to anyone she hadn't stopped to ask for help, Darcy turned sideways in her chair, fluffed her hair, and gave the room in general a slow look. She thought about smiling to make herself look welcoming, but since she'd be smiling at no one in particular and was no doubt drunk enough that all the muscles in her face wouldn't cooperate at the same time, she held off.

sex_yoda

This is probably going to be the world's worst memorial. And considering the whole of memorials across the ages, that was really saying something. The whole of memorials through the ages included Hitler's, after all, and there was no way that was anything but a really fucking sad affair.

Sad as in sad that there were people who likely mourned the Fueher. Not sad that he'd died.

Did Hitler even have a memorial? He should probably know this.

Either way, Alfie sincerely doubts there was dancing to music from the wrong Gladiator film, rubbish flowers— if Mitchell gets replacements from a garage forecourt, then Alfie is done— and a portrait that will likely look a bit like Pickwell died bent on vengeance and will somehow make her way back like something from The Walking Dead. Which she probably is, considering he might be to blame for the entire thing. He's going to spend his life haunted by the spectre of conservative hairstyles and pinched faces.

Though, they didn't have The Walking Dead in post-Nazi Germany either, so he's not sure if that's a point in his favor or not.

Rosie looks at him smugly with her creepy Pickwell hair as the students dance on-stage, and is starting to feel like this might be a bit of a losing battle, so far as dignity is concerned.

"To clarify, we won't be playing that," Alfie says, though the damage is done already, even as he shouts at Steven to stop the music and get back to work. Besides, he's due to help conduct interviews for Pickwell's replacement, as morbid as the idea may seem. He'll pop in there, pop back, and as Bob's his uncle, get this whole thing sorted and stop himself being haunted the rest of his life.

Only, when Alfie exits the gymnasium, the hallway he enters isn't the one he expects. In fact, it's not much of a hallway at all, or even part of Abbey Grove, unless there's a posh section of the school that they haven't told him about yet.

Or maybe he's died now. Oh god, is he dead?

His heart nearly jumping out of his chest, he rushes to the first person he can find, his eyes wide.

"Excuse me, but am I dead? Have I died?" he asks.

assistingconsultant

She'd decided to go with Caesar's Palace. It did have a nightclub in it, but Joan had decided to start with a bit of gambling before she started dancing. She'd gone to Las Vegas twice before, the first time with several other med students, for an exciting break from her studies. She had graduated with top honours, which meant she had lived a life that had no end to stress and pressure, and Vegas remained a shining blur to her memory. The second time she'd gone was for a doctor's conference, and it had been a relatively uneventful trip. She thought she'd grown out of wanting to go back, but the door within the Nexus was just so tempting she knew she couldn't resist its siren call.

"Have you ever gambled before?" Joan asked Ruby. They had picked an adequately flashy slot machine. They'd come through the door together - it had opened out at the end of a corridor in the hotel - but Joan knew that her, and the rest of the residents who had decided to come, were just as likely to disappear as stick around. Still, it was a girl's night in that Joan was insistent that if they arrived together, they would leave together. Vegas could be dangerous, some of the Nexus residents didn't even come from the same world - Joan wasn't even sure if this was the same Vegas she herself had been to or not - and safety first, as always. If she was going to convince people to step through she would at least keep alert enough to make sure everyone got back. Hence, they were to meet at the door again in six hours. Until then, free reign, and Joan would try not to worry.

She liked Ruby, who was younger than her, and had that sort of cheerful brightness that was infectious. Joan was around a lot of people who only saw the darker side of life, and it was refreshing to be with an optimist for a change.

[Joan will have sent a little message to everyone who was interested to meet at the Vegas door at 8PM, with a note that they will all return together to the Nexus at 2AM unless anyone makes other arrangements. She also left a notice at the front desk for anyone else interested. Feel free to tag Joan in the casino, Joan and Ruby, or start your own little threads anywhere else in Vegas. Obvs a gathering post for the ladies, anyone who identifies as a lady, or anyone who wants to pick a lady up! <3]

bonetown

Jan. 19th, 2014 - Zombie HQ

Jane had warned her about the incoming zombie incusion, but Alex never thought it'd go down like this. At least she has a vampire and a hot something at her disposal to keep her from becoming Alex pie.

In Progress - PG-13

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.

MENU

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

powerof_water

Imbolc had come and passed and Adam had spent it back in New Salem, trying to figure out the key to catching up to his own timeline and vanquishing Black John. He hadn't been successful at all, which was par for the course, but he had come out of it with one distinct advantage - Raj. The last time he'd wandered Crowhaven Road in search of his friends, Raj had come out from behind Laurel's house and whined at him as if he were completely inconvenienced that Adam had left him behind.

Adam wasn't sure if Raj could travel through the door back to the hotel and had been going back and forth to see him when finally he decided enough and he'd be taking Raj back with him no matter what it took; turns out, it didn't actually take much. The German Shepherd had no problems passing through the doorway back to the Nexus and Adam wanted to kick himself for taking so long to even try it. He guessed in some way it had been an excuse to keep going back home even though he couldn't solve the mystery of it.

Today, he and Raj were in one of the gardens. Raj was rolled onto his back, begging for belly rubs while Adam was engrossed in something else entirely. While he wasn't much for divination, it had its purposes and he wasn't terrible at it unlike some in their coven. Diana had been better, of course, but Adam had the requisite amount of patience to get a decent reading with tarot cards if nothing else. He couldn't focus crystals or do augury but this, he could manage.

He drew King of Cups and then The Hermit. King of Cups made sense, Adam himself was aligned with water but Hermit...well. Adam wasn't a teacher. Their coven had no real leader, which was part of the problem, and nobody had ever taught Adam how to wield magic. Most of it had come from piecing together bits of his parents' journals and figuring it out for himself. He hadn't had a lot of formal training.

"Raj, I think I'm getting worse at this instead of better." His dog merely yawned and wriggled a little, demanding more pets.

[[Raj is a German Shepherd and very friendly.]]

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.

bonetown

There's a story behind why Alex is sitting in the smoking room with a cigar, a peg leg at her feet, a pirate's hook (that she's currently trying to use to open up the cigar and why is this not as easy as when Brad does it) and a decidedly pirate wenchy skirt on her. Well, okay, so it's either a wenchy skirt or it's the new fall fashion. She doesn't know.

(And she should really kind of know because of the whole part where she owns a clothing store, but hey, so not the time to talk about it)

Now is the time for Alex of the High Seas to kick back and enjoy her conquests. She jock-nods at the next person who enters, gesturing around her from the peg leg to the hook to the dented silver coins at her feet with the pride that a person should have when they've got this kind of bling going for them.

"Jealous, huh?" she asks smugly. "You totally should be. I'm, like, the scourge of the seas." Never mind that Alex got most of this stuff by crying in the middle of a crowd of men who didn't know what to do with a child-sized woman breaking down after having eaten more of their food shares than was really provided for a voyage.

"If you're looking for a souvenir, Mama's got it for you," she says, picking up the hook and tapping it against her front teeth. "...Ow," she says, realizing too late (as always) that her idea isn't exactly the best.

concierge

A large, decorative sign situated prominantly in the lobby reads:

The Nexus Hotel
proudly presents its
ANNUAL HALLOWEEN GALA

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.

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.

borntodo

In three months, Bucky's managed to get back to where he belongs once. It wasn't for very long -- thirty minutes, if that -- but he returned to the Nexus with a hole through his shoulder and a bloodied uniform, courtesy of an overeager Nazi who couldn't wait for Bucky to get a gun back in his hand before firing.

He's been loathe to go anywhere without a weapon on him since, though the docs in the Clinic weren't too happy when they realized he'd pilfered one of their scalpels after his first visit. (He returned it long enough to steal it again. He was smarter about it the second time, but isn't that how these things always go?) His shoulder's still bugging him even weeks later, but having been given the all-clear to take off the silly looking sling they'd had him in that morning, he's not about to complain. Besides, he's got business to attend to and a door to find.

Anywhere else, and this'd be easy. The door that had taken him back to the war was plain and unmarked, down in the basement near the bowling alley. After poking around all morning, however, he's forced to come to the conclusion that the darn thing just isn't there anymore. Every door he's opened so far has led to some place normal -- or as normal as this place gets. Growing hungry, he swings by one of the kitchens and picks up some grub from a cook who's sweet on him before heading back to the bowling alley. He's never really played before, and if he looks at it the right way, he can justify it as more rehab for his shoulder instead of just killing time.

Current Location: The Bowling Alley

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.

All Inclusive

Reboot Marker

Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

[Gathering] Holiday Spirits

I took a sip of something poison but I'll hold on tight.

no subject

no subject

You got a new horizon, it's ephemeral style.

no subject

no subject

It's not a good gang hang until someone takes a major shot to the face.

Gathering: Valentine's Day

no subject

Gathering: NYE Gala

no subject

Gathering: Halloween Gala

no subject

Bowling!

Think of all the luck you got.

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