Wendy Slinkhard (slinky) wrote in abaeterno_rpg, @ 2021-10-23 11:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, c: ariel, l: necrohelm, u: five hargreeves |
Who: Five Hargreeves & Open.
When: The day after his arrival.
Where: Hotel Transylvania's bar, mid morning.
What: Thinkin' and drinkin'.
The bus had been a ghost town. Ghoulville and Skull Valley were actual ghost towns even if they had plenty more inhabitants, inhabitants so strange that even a shirtless Luther would have no trouble fitting in. Thusfar, his search for his family was going absolutely nowhere but the torn and filthy (and very old) red tuxedo he wore displayed the proof of his efforts. One absent hand smoothed the mass of yellowing ruffles at his chest, the other held a glass of what he'd been assured was the Hotel Transylvania's strongest stuff. He watched impassively as he slowly swirled the liquid, worms half-stuck in ice cubes writhing under his gaze. His upper lip twitched slightly with disgust but he drank with only little hesitation. He'd had worse, he decided once he'd swallowed.
Having the Hotel Transylvania's strongest stuff as a breakfast drink was understandable after the day he'd had yesterday. A deranged scarecrow had hunted him in a cornfield maze, someone had tried to lock him in a room to harvest his brain at a cafe, something he was fairly convinced was Bigfoot had chased him out of the forest before he'd had a chance to have a decent look around, and he'd had a lengthy conversation with a young woman at City Hall. It turned out that her fourth and twenty second husbands shared a name with his father, how's that for small talk? The lengthy conversation, as it happened, had been the hardest to escape of the aforementioned situations but it'd also given him his only lead. There were other humans here and all he needed was for five of them to be his idiot brothers and sisters.
The word around town was that the humans were at this hotel. He hadn't seen any when he checked in late the night before but it had been very, very late and there hadn't been much time to look around. That was the plan for today, a full search of the hotel. Once he got his feet under him, anyway.
"Cookie?" A wheezy voice interrupted Five's thoughts and he looked up, eyes falling upon a platter of skull shaped cookies. "Don't worry, they're not real," the bartender confided with a shrill laugh, as if he'd gotten that question a lot recently.
"No thanks. I only eat real skulls," Five said flatly, sliding his glass over the bartender for a refill.
ooc note: channeling beetlejuice's fine wedding tux here