You can check out anytime you'd like.. [Hotel Corona Mingle]

[thespaceopera]

Who: The Fleet!
Broadcast: If you want
Action: Hotel Corona or Planet Ikke
When: December 7th onward



[After the mystery and isolation of their last destination, the Marsiva seems determined to head to brighter, busier territory. After a long journey through remote, nebula-painted space, speeding along at a brisk pace for the Host ship, the Marsiva brings her Fleet to a sudden and prominent point of traffic.

It seems that the Fleet has happened upon some sort of vacation destination! Maybe Atroma thinks that the passengers deserve some rest and relaxation... or just wants to distract them with something huge and shiny.

Welcome to Hotel Corona! Feel free to enjoy yourselves and enjoy the sites! If a hotel resort isn't your thing, you can head on over to the nearby planet and explore it's icy wonders.

In order words: it's a mingle!! Everyone get in! ]

[>> Plot Post]

Comments

[beathach]

[he makes a face as well, even if the grin won't leave his face. It's hard not to be excited; it isn't as though they don't have privacy on the Blameless, but this is different. This is just them, doing what they enjoy, without having to worry about much else]

You make me ridiculous.

[robitussin]

I found one that's, like, covered in blankets and pillows. Paradise.

[Heaven is a huge blanketfort.]

What about you, what are you getting?

[beathach]

[he isn't looking down, please Kitty let him keep pretending he's completely clueless]

I still don't know what it means. [he grins before he shrugs] I'm mostly just looking. Window shopping, as they say.

[beathach]

I plead the fifth.

[robitussin]

That only incriminates you more, you know.

[beathach]

It's also that.

[he takes the seat across from Erik, sipping at his coffee] How have you been?

[exothermia]

I took the budget option.

[And the less said about it, the better.]

The bed is decent.

[robitussin]

Oh, no. What did you get?

[The lack of detail makes it pretty obvious to her that's it not ideal, whatever it is, but... Call it morbid curiosity.]

[exothermia]

[He's not about to say, "Recovering from getting attacked by a shapeshifting rubber woman and helping Charles do the same", so he shrugs, setting his book on the arm of his chair.]

All right. I've been seeing what this place has to offer. I can appreciate the change of pace, from the last world.

[beathach]

[that's probably for the best. He tilts his head and after a moment nods, blowing out a sigh]

Mm, me too. That place was nothing but trouble.

[he'd heard about Charles being effected, and Cisco had been too, and of course there was the incident with Erik . . . he's glad that they're far away from there]

[exothermia]

It's purple. Let's leave it at that.

[ wildcard ]

[axiomed]

[ He had been dreading the call from Hank. The bruises hadn't quite faded and his voice was still quite sore.

Still, there's no point in avoiding it as he arrives at the bar in the hotel, casting an anxious glance at the crowd, discreetly scanning their minds. ]

[robitussin]

What if I'm really curious?

[A beat.]

For real, though, one of the standard ones probably wouldn't be that bad if you split the costs.

[exothermia]

[Erik tries not to think about that, except for the fact that he has returned to that memory again and again, trying to pick it apart and make sense of it. He picks up his coffee, having a sip.]

What did you make of it - the message?

[beathach]

[when he hears Charles coming, he glances up - and the usual, constant stream of thought Hank usually has going comes to a screeching halt, replaced immediately with concern and protective anger. The quiet sort - he's known Charles for years, after all, and he knows how to keep it quiet.

He at least waits until Charles is situated at the table before he leans forward a bit, eyeing the bruises]

Getting into fights without me? [he opts for a lighter tone first. He can judge once he finds out what happened]

[exothermia]

Then you're welcome to trade keys with me. [He won't fold that easily, Opal.]

It isn't unbearable, though I might try for a different one later. The one I have pumps perfume into the suite every hour.

[nerdeology]

[Mikleo pauses, immediately caught and somewhat embarrassed; he hadn't thought there was anyone around who would be able to see him, nevermind recognize him. Crap.

Well, too late now, so he sits up as casually as he can and dusts snow out of his hair, propping himself up with one hand in the fluff. He's not even shivering, the watery prick.]

...It's my first time seeing natural snow.

[robitussin]

[Curses, foiled again, etc.]

...Perfume? That's kind of gross. Why?

[axiomed]

[ He sighs, rubbing his neck lightly. ]

That's one way of putting it.

[exothermia]

I'm assuming it's part of the... charm.

[He really does not think it's charming at all.]

[beathach]

[he frowns, looking over the bruises one more time before pushes a glass towards Charles. Of course he's already ordered their usuals]

What happened?

[robitussin]

So. Purple, and it keeps spraying perfume. That sure sounds charming.

[It sounds like an allergy attack waiting to happen.]

Hopefully the perfume is the worst part, at least?

[axiomed]

[ Charles takes it gratefully. ]

It was a trap. Someone tried to find out about people with powers using me.

[ It made sense. Charles makes a study of it and plenty of people on the Fleet have approached him about it. ]

[beathach]

[he faintly shakes his head, lips pressed together. It answered the big question of what was being transmitted, but like many things about this world, only left more unanswered questions. It was frustratingly familiar]

I don't know what to make of it. But I'm pretty sure the message is directed at us, at the very least.

[beathach]

[of course they did. Hank's frown deepens as he sits back]

Do you know who it was?