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Character Hotel
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Character Hotel:

Here, it is a character development/shared story thread where you may bring your own characters to interact with other characters in a mundane setting along in a Story Arc. Originally an NaNoWriMo exercise, I've had plenty of fun with this with one of my own characters as it helped flesh out her traits and feelings, even surprising me on the hidden depths that lurk behind the surface.

In spite of the possibly harrowing length, fear not Continuity Lock-Out / Archive Panic; one of us would be glad to fill you in with a brief recap of what is going on if asked.

The first snowflakes danced down in wonderful tufts of motion before they settled on the road. At first they melted upon touching but as it grew colder the road became a pathway of ice in the whiteness. How strange is this, for Noriko — she thought it was August where the cherry blossoms were just beginning to fall.

She was driving in her car with the comfort of her leather seat, but the snow was a blinding fog, and she could barely make anything of where is where. Then a signpost appeared from nowhere in front, and her car rammed and smashed the entirety of its engine upon the poor thing. The post still stood upright. Whatever it had to say was covered entirely in the ice and snow.

Slowly freezing to death in her car was not an option for her. Thus, having only a light dress and sweater on her, Noriko stumbled through the biting harshness. She thought she could see orange in the distance.

Given it all, it wasn't surprising when she came into Lakeside Hotel, numb, frozen, as helpless as a newborn baby. There was comforting solace with the warmth of the dining room's fireplace though, and the bartender there offered her blankets to swaddle in and a couple rounds of brandy to make herself at home until the freak storm dies out.

"I wouldn't mind.. staying.." Noriko muttered to herself. Her father's funeral could wait until tomorrow.. she didn't want to dwell on it much longer. With drunkenness and exhaustion settling in, she decided to close her eyes — but not before she heard the creak of the entrance doors open.

edited 14th Sep '10 2:02:25 PM by QQQQQ

 2 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 1:30:34 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
Edit— Ooh, fun! This turned into a wall of text. Sorry. I suppose I can always back out if I get short on time and can't keep up later, but for now, these two really need developing. Wonder how it'll be trying to write both of them?

"LEARN TO DRIVE, MORON! Where's there ever a cop?" he shouts before slumping back into his seat. "Well, crap." Johnson sighs and glares moodily at the steering wheel.

"It could always be worse—" starts Tag from the passenger seat.

"Don't. Just don't." The front end of the car is buried in a snowdrift they'd been driven off of the road into, and the snow is continuing to pile up quickly.

Tag fidgets awkwardly for a moment. Neither of them look at each other.

"Hey! That place looks nice!" exclaims Tag. "We were just looking for somewhere to stop, right? And we wouldn't have even seen it from the road." He shoves the car door open— or tries to, at least, and forces it just enough for him to slip out. Snow dribbles into the car. All of this transpires in a short period of time.


Shuffling around, Tag tries to clear enough of a space for Johnson's door to open. The snow was jarred loose by the impact. Johnson's not as skinny as Tag, but he's got more raw strength and forces the door open.

"Ow!" Tag stumbles into the snow and grabs Johnson's arm, dragging him along. They land in a pile of snow with a soft poofy noise.

Glaring, Johnson stands, attempting to brush the snow off of himself. It's a futile effort; the grainy crystals are caked on.

When they finally make it into the hotel, carrying a small pack each— having settled on digging out their suitcases the next day if the road wasn't travel-worthy— they're likely a sight, mismatched, bedraggled, soaked and cold young men. Tag's dark hair is only starting to dry and it's already sticking every which way; he's also rather pinkish and shivering, not being one for dressing too heavy.

Meanwhile, Johnson's tinged bright red at the tips of his ears and nose and under his cheekbones, and he's not only shaking from the cold. His pale eyes are glassy and irritated, and his bangs are plastered into his face.

"One room. Two beds." he growls, sliding a card out of his wallet at random and dropping it onto the counter.

"Sorry 'bout him." says Tag. "He's just grouchy. You get used to it."

Johnson's eye twitches.

"Oh, there's a restaurant! I bet it has hot chocolate." exclaims Tag, edging away from him. "I'll go get you some while you sort this out berightback" He skids in a puddle and winces, but Johnson catches him by the back of his jacket.

"Be careful, you idiot! It's not like an ambulance can get here anytime soon if you snap your stupid neck!" he snaps.

"Ack! Thanks." Tag gets his bearings and heads in at a not terribly more sedate pace.

Johnson pinches the bridge of his nose. Hopefully the hotel will have some kind of cold medicine for the horrible death bug he's probably going to catch.

"Uh, hi." says Tag, swaying as the comfortable warmth of the room hits him. He addresses the bartender. "Do you have hot chocolate?" he asks hopefully.

The bartender gives him a nod. "Instant's all we have right now."

"That works great!" He settles nearby a drowsy looking woman who's swaddled in blankets and holding something that looks strong. He wonders if Johnson would like a shot of something in his hot chocolate; probably, but who knows what the laws here are like.

edited 14th Sep '10 1:32:52 PM by voiderofwarranties

Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
Who's that?

Noriko sees a faint blur of movement, right beside her. She hears some slurping of something sweet. But her nose is still numb, and she can only smell a small fraction of what must be a delectable, steaming hot drink.

"Hello—" Her throaty voice doesn't carry. She dryly coughs. Then she realizes how thirsty she is inside. Her head tips over to the side, full with drowsiness and confusion; it all seems like a faraway dream. "Would you.. would you be so kind, and offer me a sip?" She reaches out a quivering hand from beneath her blankets.

edited 14th Sep '10 1:55:34 PM by QQQQQ

 4 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 2:07:29 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
The snow fell in jagged whirls and spirals, cascading and pounding the ground. A soft crunch meets the soles of the young man, the sole witness to the night's maelstrom. Rubbing his sore neck, he takes a break and looks upwards and is blinded by the white night.

"A real freak storm. Nothing in the reports or the radar." Then again, the forecast is about as reliable as a wet paper bag.

Hunching his head and focusing on what remained of the road, the youth trudged forwards through the white abyss. Eventually, the darkness was broken up by a yellowish light, one that seemed inviting and yet strangely out of place against the night sky. He trudged forward, hoping for a place to rest. Food would be pretty nice while he was at it. Preferably a hamburger.

A hundred or so meters in, he arrived just outside the building, the Lakeside Hotel. Quaint, not at all unexpected in a place like this. At this thought, he looked about fro his illuminated vantage point. While he couldn't make out much, it looked like he was along the shore of a large body of water he'd seen in the airplane. Small cottages and snow covered trees dotted the shoreline, and faint light shined from their windows.

A perfect setting if I ever saw one. Looks like it's straight out of an old spy flick. He snorted derisively, then headed into the warm embrace of the hotel light. He forced open the doors, and trudged in, not bothering to make use of the coat hangers. He was only wearing a hoodie after all. He'd come expecting fair weather, not the storm of the goddamn century.

He approached the front desk, sliding out his card. "One room, king sized bed please."

"Certainly, Mr..."

The young man signed, and looked up at the receptionist. "Caltex. Sassello Caltex."

edited 14th Sep '10 2:08:06 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
 5 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 2:15:56 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
"Sure, miss!" exclaims Tag, carefully wrapping her shaky hands around the mug. "Careful, now. Did the snow strand you too? Are you okay?"

Johnson wanders in, rolls his eyes at the scene, and retrieves his hot chocolate before sitting across from Tag. He takes a deep sit and begins to relax a little, letting his eyelids droop as he regains feeling in his extremities.
Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
 6 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 2:36:10 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
Looks like there are others here. Shame, I'd hoped there wouldn't be anyone else in the same situation. Sassello approaches the table slowly, running his fingers over the fake wood tables. The whatever-it-was had a smooth but not entirely flawless feel to it. Obviously artificial but not disturbingly so.

Approaching the table, he tries to straighten up his attire, worrying slightly about the large bundle strapped to his back. Idiot, they can't see it. You're fine.

He offers a hand and a relaxed smile to everyone huddled around the table. "Sasselo Caltex, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
 7 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 2:43:28 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
"Johnson King." replies Johnson. His voice is a little nasally; his nose is already stopping up. "This is my associate Tag Tennant."

Tag gives Johnson an odd look. "What, are you mad at me or something? Don't let him fool you. We've been buddies for a while. And this is...uh..." He looks at the woman who has his hot chocolate in a shaky grip. "Wait, I forgot to ask what your name is."
Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
Please don't have this turn into a major battle like the other ones like this, because my character isn't much good in a fight.

Violet, a girl of 15, shuffled in, shivering and covered in snow. She sighed with relief as she felt the warmth, and stumbled over to a couch, where she plunked herself down. She proceeded to strip off her winter clothes, moving slowly with a slight tremor in her hands. Then she curled up, rubbing her hands together to warm herself.

Then, a thought occurred to her and she dug through her pockets, her search getting more and more frantic. Finally, she threw her jacket down in exasperation. Her pills were gone. She must have forgotten them at home. What was she going to do? Soon, it would be time for her next dose.

Stay calm. She could make a plan. Firstly, ask the person behind the counter for a phone - the gas station's phone was down, but this one might not be. And if she was stranded, she could surely handle a short amount of time without her medication. After all, she'd been a dumb kid when she was diagnosed, surely she could face the voice better now.

With that decided, she went up to the counter. "Excuse me, can I borrow your phone?"

"Sorry, it's dead." The person behind the counter said. "I'm afraid we're stranded."

Violet's eyes widened and she breathed hard, feeling the panic well up. She put her hands to her head and little sparks danced around her fingertips, and then she was calm. "OK. Can I book a room? How much does it cost?"
If I'm asking for advice on a story idea, don't tell me it can't be done.
 9 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 2:57:05 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
The first thing that came to mind from your post was my own character Violet. Now 'm going to forever imagine her as a blood-crazed sociopath. Sorry XD

"It's nice to meet you all." Sassello pulls up a chair, immediately sitting himself down at the table.

"So what circumstances find us all here tonight? I trust not many of us are here by choice?" No, they're here because they're all writing winter-themed mystery novels. Can't you tell?

edited 14th Sep '10 2:59:28 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
An accurate depiction
Awesome, a new character thread!

Itou was racing down the side of the road at a clip rivaling some sports cars and certainly in excess of local speed limits. her coat was providing some drag, but in this whipping snow, shedding the bulletproof polymer was an idea rivaling Operation Barbarossa in its stupidity. So she ran down the side of the highway, feet slipping over snow.

The road had been clear for a few kilometers now, and Itou had settled into a sleepy trance when the body of a car loomed from the darkness, rising up as she tried to jump over it.

Itou's shoulder dragged over the roof of the car, the thin layer of nanomachines below it ripping through the roof. Skidding through the metal and glass, Itou pulled herself up on the other side of the car, looking back at the newly-made convertible. A few scratches decorated her coat, and a long cut on her cheek was spilling bright drops of blood onto the snow. Nothing seemed broken, and she walked on toward the bright lights of a building in the distance.

Walking into the lobby of the hotel with her coat slung over her shoulder, Itou looks over the scene. Well, it's quiet, but a few lights would spruce the place up quite well. "Did anyone leave a car out there?" she asks. "Because I found one." She joins the group at the table, pulling a piece of gauze out of her pocket and applying it to her face.

edited 14th Sep '10 3:00:21 PM by Morgulion

This is this.
 11 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 3:07:11 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
"We were forced off of the road into a snow drift." says Johnson. "You?"
Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
Having paid for a room, Violet headed off. She deposited her stuff, then returned and wandered over to the restaurant, where she ordered a hot chocolate and then headed to the other people. "Hello. Mind if I join you?"
If I'm asking for advice on a story idea, don't tell me it can't be done.
 13 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 3:26:36 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
"Not at all. I'm Tag and this is my friend Johnson and that's Sassello Caltex and I don't know her name but she's borrowing my hot chocolate. It's really good hot chocolate. What's your name?" Tag bounces a little in his seat and grins.

edited 14th Sep '10 3:28:37 PM by voiderofwarranties

Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
An accurate depiction
Itou, having decided on the fly that the payment may be past what she has at the moment, smiles and waves her hands. "No, just wondering how you got here." She waves Violet over to the group, pushing back from the table to create a space for her.

She doesn't buy anything, to eat, sitting back and watching the group, her eyes moving restlessly, gauging positions and all the exits. No one ever expects this 22-year old woman to be a killer, and she stretches in the knowledge that here, no one knows who she is.

She begins to smoke, listening to the others talk, half-asleep and warm.

edited 14th Sep '10 3:32:08 PM by Morgulion

This is this.
Noriko savours the bustling sweet on her tongue and swirled it around before swallowing — she makes it out to be hot chocolate, and this she is very grateful for. With a renewed vigour, she sits up on the couch.

Her black hair droops down to her shoulders, frizzly and wet from the cold. If you look at it right, you can see a hint of dark mahogany.

She perks her lips. "My name's Noriko. I think that's my car outside.. the one over by the sign.. There's a funeral I was going to attend. But then it snowed.. it isn't supposed to snow is it? It's the beginning of August." She glances at the stark, gothic grey out the windows before holding her arms inside the blanket to herself.

edited 14th Sep '10 3:44:31 PM by QQQQQ

 16 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 4:21:14 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
"Nice to meet you, Noriko. I too came expecting fair weather, but was instead met with this. It came completely out of nowhere, nothing on the forecast at all. Rather disappointing, I flew in hoping to take a look around."

What he failed to mention was that the flight had ended hours earlier. Specifically, with him jumping out of the plane at altitude with an improvised parachute and hiking five miles to the hotel.

Sassello orders a cheeseburger with lettuce, bacon and onions, his favorite treat. His job didn't offer a fixed meal plan, so he was often left to eat what was available around town. He'd sampled haggis, London's fish and chips, various Thai foods and on one occasion, balut.

His stomach churned slightly. Best not to think about that one.

edited 14th Sep '10 4:23:37 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
 17 voiderofwarranties, Tue, 14th Sep '10 4:23:58 PM from the cliffs of insanity
kind of stupid actually
Tag visibly droops and spares a slight confused glance at Sassello before refocusing on Noriko. "I'm sorry." he says in a small voice. "Uhm, you know..." He pauses in thought and scratches his head sheepishly. "I don't actually know what month it is."

Johnson huffs and his eyes flutter. "It's— wait." He pauses, getting an odd look on his face. He pulls out what appears to be a phone of moderate size and fiddles with it. "That's odd." he murmurs, holding it so that the light does not glare against the screen. He shows it to Tag; there's no signal and the place for the date is glitching. "Does anybody here know what the day and month are?" he asks, looking around.

edited 14th Sep '10 4:25:18 PM by voiderofwarranties

Real life has become a mountain that must be conquered epically. Cutting back on intarwebz for a bit.
 18 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 4:28:33 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
A malfunction? No, the lines are dead and the clocks are also on the fritz.

edited 14th Sep '10 7:37:26 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
 19 Leradny, Tue, 14th Sep '10 4:36:16 PM from Alameda, CA
After spending several days roaming the wilderness on a monster sighting sure to be from a prank caller—or worse, someone who sincerely believed in yetis—Eos Whitford is tired, hungry, and pissed the fuck off. She could have tracked her own way back to the hotel, but following a random parachuter had just been a lot easier even after she'd trailed a mile or so behind him.

Once there, Eos stomps the snow off her boots with rather more force than strictly necessary and makes sure her room key isn't frozen to something that would make opening her room a tricky business. Then, with great reluctance, she orders a lukewarm coffee and sits down far away from any sources of heat.

There are plenty of new faces, but Eos is not a sociable person in the best of times and right now she would really rather check her extremities for frostbite.

Should this get moved to the RP forum?

edited 14th Sep '10 4:45:35 PM by Amarys

Amateur cook Professional procrastinator

An accurate depiction
No. It's an exercise in writing your characters rather than an RP.
This is this.
 22 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 6:26:37 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
Sassello casts a furtive glance towards the new arrival. She was in bad shape, she looked as if she'd come a long way. He was aware he'd been followed, but a mile from the hotel, the storm had gotten so thick they'd eluded his detection. Sassello assumed the same held true for them.

This woman... she followed me.

Sassello fingered the bundle on his back. He didn't know what the woman's intentions were, but it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

edited 14th Sep '10 7:37:46 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
From the kitchen door, the scent of all the guests' dinners waft and fill the dining room with their flavour. Much of which made Noriko's mouth water. (Damn.. I forgot to order.. would anyone mind sharing?)

If she had the opportunity then to be fully awake, she would ask for sushi with light wasabi sauce along with Szechuan noodles.

She notices another woman coming through the door — frostbitten and agitated. Noriko gives a quick glance to her, not wanting to draw her attention back. She looks rather upset about something. Noriko also notices Sassello reaching for that bundle by his back, like he's anticipating something happening. The thought makes her tense a little.

She decides to distract herself with some learning talk of this time enigma: "You were saying that.. time has broken down? Maybe it is your watch that needs a fix. I remember today as the 3rd of August."

She raises up her thinly wristwatch to show — it's still ticking away at the seconds (2:11 PM). "But I do not remember the weatherman saying that it will snow along the way. Where might 'here' be? Does anyone know?"

edited 14th Sep '10 7:36:06 PM by QQQQQ

 24 KSPAM, Tue, 14th Sep '10 7:37:03 PM from The Slaine Pain Train Relationship Status: Sinking with my ship
"No no no, nothing of the sort. I think he merely intended to say that perhaps there is a reason why the electronics are malfunctioning, that's all."

He noticed Noriko stealing looks at his back. He wondered to himself, Could it be that she can see it?

That... wasn't normal. That definitely was not normal. He should know, too.

edited 14th Sep '10 7:39:19 PM by KSPAM

Team? You mean cannon fodder? — neobowman

Goodfae: a mafia web serial
A bulky, humanoid shape trudged through the snow. Lost. Lost outside in a stolen environment suit, not even a name to her name. The suit's occupent surveyed her surroundings once more and found, to her considerable surprise, not a snow feild or a rusted city or maybe another rock, but a hotel. A bright little hotel in a cozy little town. Bright? Cozy? The woman in the suit drew the only reasonable conclusion—the isolation was getting to her and she had begun to hallucinate.

Still, there were possibilities to be considered. Rumors of cities left to the elements, perhaps not so hopless a fate as the survivors had thought. She pushed through the snow and into the hotel.

She regretted it immediately. In the freezing cold, the suit was liveable. In the warm hotel, it was death. She scrambled for the releases and ripped off her helmet. Then, thinking more clearly and aware for the first time of the other hotel patrons, she unfastened and stepped out of the suit with her eyes down and her movements slow and controlled. They might not take kindly to outsiders here. They might be hostile.

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