Alfie Solomons (
devoutish) wrote in
snowblindrpg2016-11-17 02:06 pm
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[log] the monster bait squad [closed]
Characters: Alfie Solomons, Claire Temple, Emily Kaldwin, Peter, Royce Melborn, Tifa Lockhart
Location building 162
Date: evening of 179 to morning of 181
Summary: LET'S SEE IF ANYONE DIES
Warnings: n/a; will edit if anything comes up
A hotel--the Norfinbury Inn. By hotel standards, it's not especially large, but it's the largest building in the downtown area. The lobby is mostly empty and seems a bit old-fashioned in design, with what appear to be wooden floors and fairly plain walls. There are a few cozy areas where people can sit, and a fireplace in the center that, while it has no wood, is in perfect working order. The front desk has nothing of note except for all the keycards to the various rooms of the hotel. It looks like there are a total of twenty rooms. There is no elevator--looks like you'll have to use the stairs the old-fashioned way.
There is a small dining room area, although there are no tables or chairs to be found. The room echoes uncomfortably due to its emptiness. It connects to a small industrial kitchen, although there is no longer any food or appliances to be found. It seems like the ovens and stoves were cut out of their places. The sinks still work, at least. There is also a door that unlocks with a management keycard that can be found in the lobby that leads downstairs.
The basement is very simple. It's colder down here than in the rest of the building, and utilitarian in style. There's a small break room, a laundry room that no longer has any of its machinery but does have large rolling baskets for moving clothes in bulk (that refuse to leave the hotel, unfortunately) and some cleaning carts devoid of cleaning supplies (that are just as stubborn as the clothes baskets). There's a small room with space for what must have once been a furnace--and an actual very old-fashioned incinerator. It's not on, of course, but if a fire were started manually, it would still function. There's nothing inside it.
The first floor of the hotel contains rooms 101 to 110. There are five single rooms and five double rooms. All of the plumbing works, though the water runs cold. The second floor, containing rooms 201 to 210, is identical to the first floor, except for one door that has no key. It's unlocked--going inside reveals an empty room covered in pictures of an eye, drawn in black paint. All of the eyes have been scribbled out with black pen.
Location building 162
Date: evening of 179 to morning of 181
Summary: LET'S SEE IF ANYONE DIES
Warnings: n/a; will edit if anything comes up
A hotel--the Norfinbury Inn. By hotel standards, it's not especially large, but it's the largest building in the downtown area. The lobby is mostly empty and seems a bit old-fashioned in design, with what appear to be wooden floors and fairly plain walls. There are a few cozy areas where people can sit, and a fireplace in the center that, while it has no wood, is in perfect working order. The front desk has nothing of note except for all the keycards to the various rooms of the hotel. It looks like there are a total of twenty rooms. There is no elevator--looks like you'll have to use the stairs the old-fashioned way.
There is a small dining room area, although there are no tables or chairs to be found. The room echoes uncomfortably due to its emptiness. It connects to a small industrial kitchen, although there is no longer any food or appliances to be found. It seems like the ovens and stoves were cut out of their places. The sinks still work, at least. There is also a door that unlocks with a management keycard that can be found in the lobby that leads downstairs.
The basement is very simple. It's colder down here than in the rest of the building, and utilitarian in style. There's a small break room, a laundry room that no longer has any of its machinery but does have large rolling baskets for moving clothes in bulk (that refuse to leave the hotel, unfortunately) and some cleaning carts devoid of cleaning supplies (that are just as stubborn as the clothes baskets). There's a small room with space for what must have once been a furnace--and an actual very old-fashioned incinerator. It's not on, of course, but if a fire were started manually, it would still function. There's nothing inside it.
The first floor of the hotel contains rooms 101 to 110. There are five single rooms and five double rooms. All of the plumbing works, though the water runs cold. The second floor, containing rooms 201 to 210, is identical to the first floor, except for one door that has no key. It's unlocked--going inside reveals an empty room covered in pictures of an eye, drawn in black paint. All of the eyes have been scribbled out with black pen.
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So do I. None of us deserve this. This - this place is chipping away at everyone, piece by piece. The only thing we can do is keep going, and keep going with each other, but now it's taking that away, too. Do you still trust me, or Emily, or anyone that went mad last night?
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I trust you when you're yourselves.
[But Watson is right - they don't know if they'll always be themselves.
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[She sighs.]
It's a scary thing. I can't even imagine how it was like for you last night, and now we're all just walking around, wondering if we're not all ticking time bombs.
[She wants to go back to the night before, when everything felt a little easier, and she fell asleep in his arms.]
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[She pauses.]
Still, I wish I could make you forget about this place.
[But she's not fooling herself into thinking she can.]
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[He just looks, and sounds, haunted.]
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Is there anything you can take to help you sleep?
[He looks so exhausted it must just make him sicker not to rest. If she was home, she'd hook him on fluids and put him on bed rest for a few days. He looks ready to drop.]
You're not planning on traveling today, are you?
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[He doesn't sound happy about it - the hotel is great, with its beds and large number of rooms for Royce to hide in. But bad things happen to people who stay in one building for two long, and they can't risk more bad things right now.]
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[His best friend is a literal feral cat, Claire.]
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[He exhales.]
Tifa did him, I think.
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[Claire reaches up to rub a hand over her face, her stomach twister in knots.]
Aren't they...they're close, right?
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[She'd say, she can leave, if they need the time to just be the four of them. She doesn't mind - surely there's someone who can use her help somewhere, she could try and catch up with John, discuss the transfusions again.
But she's not sure that's what Alfie wants to hear.]
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[Who the hell knows what Emily will do.]
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[Giving people an unbiased ear helps, in Claire's experience.]
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[She pauses, chuckles to herself.]
Did you not see cutthroat bitch's network post? She is the female doctor around here.
[Yes, she's bitter about that post, and tired enough that she's letting it out, when usually she would just let it go.]
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[She sighs.]
Sorry, it's completely irrelevant. That post just. Infuriated me.
[It was so dismissive, like Claire didn't exist at all. It might not have been personal at all, but Claire knew too many doctors that acted exactly the same way, like nurses were beneath them, that she didn't give that possibility much weight.]
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You've tried prescribing?
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