Second Floor Landing
Shortly after arriving at the hotel, Liam had spent a few scant moments surveying the lobby, singing his fingers on a candle when curiosity got the best of him as he wondered about their reality, wondering how safe it was to be lighting an entire building by only the wax candles. It was a charming sight, he could see that, but safe? That he doubted. Sucking on his burned forefinger, Liam ascended the first flight of stairs to the second floor, the strip of leather he had tied to his key wound about his hand for safe keeping, the key nestled in his palm. The notebook was in hand, along with his own well-worn moleskin as he ventured onto the second floor.
For a long moment, he stood there, face tilted towards the ceiling, eyes half-closed, just soaking in the atmosphere. There was something peculiar, interesting, about the hotel, something he hadn't experienced before. The atmosphere felt charged with energy, on the verge of something happening. It was with those thoughts in mind that he dropped to sit where he stood, pulling out his notebook and putting pencil to paper to write, letting the mood take him.