Destiny Falls

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey handsome pants, you haven't been eaten alive yet, have you? If you're feeling sociable, I think I've got something I'd like to show you. Maybe. Or it could just be a clever ruse to get you alone. Perish the thought! Gimme a call, okay? MWAH!

Jason never went anywhere with a lady without dressing up. It didn't matter if she was the brooding, fiftysomething editor he was still trying to tempt here, or a fresh-from-highschool fangirl. They got him at his relative best, hair tamed back as best he could, nice outfit, bit of cologne. Today was no exception.

He wore a nice white linen suit, no tie to choke him, and a pair of those athletic shoes that disguised themselves as dress shoes. He'd picked Bay Rhum as the cologne, and only had his Netbook with him so he could share creative things (and possibly funny things; Anastasia seemed to have a really good sense of humor). No writing for right now.

He had wandered around a bit, getting his bearings as best he could once settled in his room, but the place was enormous, almost deliberately confusing in its opulence, and a bit intimidating. Plus he liked the idea of company. Fun company. Leaning near the lobby entrance, he checked his watch once, then glanced around again. Good, I'm on time.

Fresh Meat.

That was what Jason felt like as he stepped away from the check-in desk with his bags under his arms, chocolate linen suit slightly rumpled from his journey. His empathy was in high gear, drinking up emotions left and right, leaving him light-headed and slightly buzzed--but when he walked in, for a moment, he had felt a ripple of sorts in the crowd. A response to him, as if the lobby itself had somehow noticed the newcomer and was weighing him in some unknown balance. The enormous "watched" feeling was probably a simple response to going from a relatively sedate shipboard environment, after a boring plane ride, straight onto the tram and then--to this. After a few moments of glancing around, he dismissed the feeling entirely as nerves in a new environment.

Setting his bags down in front of the bellhop's stand, he took off his suitcoat and threw it absently over one shoulder. His tie he had stuffed in his bag back in San Francisco. He had hopped on the plane straight after his meeting with his editor, and felt overdressed--watching two girls in thong bikinis wander by, very overdressed. Not normally self-conscious, he laughed at himself a little--and wondered, a little, what was really causing it.

As he waited for someone to come take his bags, he people-watched with eyes, ears and mind, a faint smile on his lips. "Perfect place to finish the book," he commented cheerfully.