• F • R • A • C • T • U • R • E •

Who: Bianca and Edison, then Harlow
Where: The encampment
When Morning

Bianca was pissed. This was the second day in a row she’d woken up in a strange place. She sat up on her bed of straw and looked over to see a man on the other side of the cramped space. Thank the gods she was fully clothed. She looked down at herself and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. What the fuck were these clothes? Was she traveling back in time every damned night? What would tomorrow be? A pterodactyl nest? Also? Where the hell was that crazy bitch who had made her think she was in a horror movie? If she was around somewhere, Bianca didn’t know what she was going to do but it wasn’t going to be pretty.

She stared hard at the sleeping man. Whoever he was, he was a stranger and he didn’t belong sleeping so close to her. She slapped his arm. “Hey! Hey, get out of here!” she demanded.

( with my teeth )

Who: Bianca and Ivanya
When: Evening
Where: Courtyard

Bianca had had enough time since her run-in with Kennedy to calm down and then get riled up. She’d found the abandoned bottle of champagne after finding a mirror on one of the walls and ensuring her hair was, in fact, in tact. The bitch had put dried flowers or some shit in it which was why it had flaked away in her hand. She had taken herself out into the courtyard and was sitting on a bench beneath a rose bush where she could see the entire courtyard. She had finished half the bottle of champagne and she was buzzing hard both with the alcohol and the fury she felt over what had happened. Her eyes flitted around and through the roses periodically as she attempted to relax into some semblance of herself again and bemoaning the fact she’d lost her vomit-covered Jimmy Choos in the hall. She was muttering under her breath and ripping apart rose petals between her fingers, leaving them in shreds on her lap and all around her.

"Now, what the hell did those flowers ever do to you?" Ivanya asked, stepping up near the bench. She'd seen another new girl out in the courtyard and was a little pissed that she decided destroying the nice flowers was something she should do. It was really the only bit of 'outside' Ivanya got to see anymore and she certainly didn't want some entitled guest throwing their weight around, massacring the roses. "You should cut that shit out. One of them is bound to fight back before too long."

( The two biggest bitches, working together. )

Who: Bianca and Kennedy
When: Afternoon into Early Evening
Where: First floor alcove of sorts

Bianca had passed the freak in the lobby making a huge ass mess with the cushions from the couches, tossing her a look that said that was exactly what she was thinking of the girl. To which the kitten-eared fool had giggled. Maybe the alcohol had her face not behaving properly. Maybe there was no bite to her bitch. That made all the more reason for her to have listened to Mickey and not had more to drink. She ditched the bottle on a table with a vase full of cut flowers and headed onward. She wasn’t sure where she was going but she ended up in some strange little alcove that seemed off the beaten track. There was an arrangement of furniture that looked like it had once been a smoker’s corner or something. One could also probably use it to play cards as there was a round table in the center of the plush chairs and loveseats.

“How cozy,” she deadpanned and dropped down onto a loveseat. She just needed to close her eyes for a moment and she sure as hell wasn’t going back to that nasty room she’d woke up in. Especially not when she herself had randomly walked into a stranger’s room. She didn’t need any strangers walking into her room while she slept. That she was pulling her legs up beneath her and falling asleep in public and that there was pure and utter irony to that? Well it didn’t cross her mind and soon she was snoring softly, out for over an hour at the very least.

After wandering aimlessly in the basement trying to find her way out of the goddamn labyrinth that was down there, she eventually was back up into the hotel. She had opted to wander around, and had gone back up to the top floor to release the elevator from where she'd stuck it, not planning on a second jump down the elevator shaft today. After a while, she found herself coming upon a little area that was set up like a lounge, or something, and some chick sleeping on one of the chairs. So, Kennedy did what she did best. Improvised.
( SATAN! )

Who: Mickey and Bianca
When: Afternoon
Where: The Throne Room Bar

Bianca had been at the bar for half an hour now. She was soused. She was only on her second glass of champagne but she had always been a light weight and the fact that her blood was pumping hard and fast with fury helped get the alcohol into her system faster. She was busy unloading on Joe the bartender. Not that he seemed to mind.

“I’m serious. If they think they can just use me and then tear me into little pieces and toss me into the wind, they’ve got another thing coming. Bianca van der Noorden does not go down without a fight. No way, bucko.”

To which Joe said, “There was a young girl in here a little while ago. She was a beautiful dancer.” And continued wiping down the bar.

Bianca raised one finger from the hand that held her glass. “Exactly my point. Where do they come up with these beautiful dancers? It’s like they’re everywhere! I swear, nobody fucking cares about actresses anymore. It’s the dancers and the models they want. Well, you know what? I’m going to kiss the first man who walks in here. You watch, I’ll do it. And then I’ll tell him I’m a dancer and we’ll fuck like bunnies the way god intended it.”

The whole concept of waking up somewhere he didn't belong was jarring. The bag packed with his things didn't help matters. He didn't think he'd gotten evicted, and was pretty sure if he had the hotel he would have wound up at wouldn't be this nice, but he didn't have much else in the way of answers. And it took him a good while before he'd come to some sort of terms with it. Then the most logical answer was to try and leave. Only walking out the front door hadn't led Mickey out of the hotel. Instead it dropped him and his bag in a ballroom. Or that was what he guessed you called it. He'd never been in such a place and instantly felt out of place in his jeans and t-shirt. He looked behind him, seeing normal doors and not the ones he'd tried to leave from. What the hell?

( You're a unicorn! )

Who: Ash and Bianca
Where: The elevator
When: Early afternoon

Ash was thinking about Mai and sort of absently wandering down the hall outside his room toward the elevators. He was trying to decide what he felt like doing. He had a planning notebook and his laptop under his arm. He really needed to get out of his room; he wanted to see what Mai was doing. He needed to get work done. He pushed the button and stepped into the elevator. He settled against the back wall after pushing the button for the lobby. He’d work first and then go see Mai. There was only a brief sensation of going down when the car stopped and the doors opened again. They almost began to close again when Ash heard a shriek of frustration outside them.

“Oh my fucking… hold the fucking door, please!” Bianca demanded loudly. She’d been fast walking down the hall away from Kyle’s room with her suitcase rocking on its wheels behind her. She’d been about to pull the case into the elevator when it had toppled, pulling her wrist at a slightly painful angle and holding her back. Which just added to her aggressive frustration. She almost kicked the elevator doors but Ash had managed to push the button to send the doors open again.

( May I call you Ben? )

Who: Bianca & Kyle
When: Morning
Where: Kyle's room

Bianca was pissed off. On a serious level. She'd already been through waking up believing she'd been roofied again. Though it didn't feel like anything that wasn't consensual had happened. Except for the fact she wasn't even remotely near where she'd gone to sleep the night before. Which meant someone better have some fucking answers. After a truncated morning ritual she'd wheeled her suitcase down into the lobby, had one half of a screaming match with the lady behind the desk (only one half because the lady wouldn't even budge beyond a monotone), and now she was getting ready to trash her phone because she couldn't dial out. Without paying much attention, she hurried toward the front door, her focus on the display of her phone rather than what was ahead of her. She expected to feel a breeze or hear traffic and looked up after a moment to see she was in someone's hotel room. "Oh what the hell..." she asked in a low tone.