Motel California

She hasn't felt like this in a while. This out of control, this pulled by her abilities. Not since before her sister started showing up for her back in Massachusetts. When she was trying so hard to avoid her powers completely and try to be normal. It just caused them to spiral completely out of control.

But as similar to that as this feels, it's still different. It's guided. It's directed. She knows what happens at the end of her fugue state. She's aware enough to know that even as she pads her way down the stairs, the chill down her spine grows stronger. The whispers grow louder. And the scream is already building up in her throat.

It's been a while since her last dead body. A very long time, even. Since she carried Stiles out of the tunnels and found Scott crying over her best friend's lifeless body.

All the other times, she managed to just call the police with an anonymous tip before actually stumbling upon a possible body, or, with Dahlia's help, she managed to actually help a couple of people before it was too late.

Like tonight. It's too late and she knows it. And in this place, there's no police for her to call. All she can do it scream. All she can do is warn the others that there has been a death, to mourn the life that has been taken. While selfishly hoping that it's not a familiar face that she finds staring back at her this time.

Lydia makes her way to the bottom of the stairs. Her footsteps are silent since she's wearing socks along with her pajamas and a robe. Her face is pale as she makes her way through the darkened lobby. Her hair is down, covering some of her face, which is barely visible since the only source of light is the moonlight shining in through the windows and front door.

Still, she sees it. The white, knee-high socks, the black dress, the apron. And the blood. It's glistering in the moonlight and the voices are screaming at Lydia now. So loud. This is it. It's the source. It's what she had to find. There's a knife sticking out of her chest and her lifeless, pale face is turned away from her. Her eyes are wide open and with the way she's laying down, it almost looks like she's watching the moonlight by the fireplace. Even though the fire is no longer burning.

Lydia's hands are shaking and she kneels next to her. She recognizes her, of course. She never spoke to her before, but she's seen the woman coming in and out of rooms. The maid. She never knew her name.

And now she has to scream for her. Even though she doesn't want to. Her eyes are tearing up and her heart is beating fast. She wants to reach out, to feel her pulse, to shake the other woman awake. But it's pointless. And with every passing second, the voices get louder. And it hurts. Her head feels like it's about to explode. There's a pressure building up inside, bubbling it's way up her throat. She knows she won't be able to hold back.

With a deep breath, she clutches at her ears, closing her eyes tightly before she lets it go and screams. A banshee scream. Powerful. Strong. Firm. A wail. Mourning, but also a warning for those who are still breathing. There's danger. And she can feel it. Death isn't just around the body in front of her, it's all around this room. This was a murder and the murderer is still out there.

[A couple of hours after this.]

>> Can you come by?

Its been a few weeks since he had talked to Lydia and they'd both had their own respective meltdowns at each other. Hers was worse. Hers hurt so much more, made him so much angrier at Stiles. He avoided him as much as possible and had refrained from talking to him at all when he'd see him.

But eventually, it all started eating at him, from the inside out. Stiles was deciding what they wanted, what was best for them without even talking to them. He was trading Allison's life for his own, in a terrible attempt to fix what he felt was his fault. That's enough to hurt. But what made him so angry about it was how Lydia was taking it. He's seen her like this once before, and he refuses to let it happen again. Not if he can fix it.

He waits in the lobby for him, knowing he'll come downstairs to something eventually. And when he, does, he's going to catch him and tell him exactly how he feels about it all.


[Spam » Allison]
He hasn't done much better about Allison. Between their last encounter and everything Lydia had told him, he was a mess. He literally took to ducking around corners if he saw her. Because he keeps thinking this is her, his Allison, the one from his world, the one he lost, and he has no idea what to do with that. It was hard enough knowing in some other world, they got her back...but to think it was at the price of someone he spent most of his life calling family losing his? He's not sure he can handle that.

So, after confronting Stiles, he heads outside and he's debating a run when he sees her heading right for the door, looking an awful lot like she might have just been on a run herself. There's nothing out front to hide behind and--as he thinks it, he realizes how stupid it is anyway. He shouldn't be hiding from her anyway.

He lifts a hand in a wave, silently hoping he eventually figures out what to say once she's closed the space between them.

[Set later the same day after this and this.]

Much emotion, many feels: A Scydia spam.( Read more... )

[He looks exhausted because he barely got any sleep last night for the noises he kept hearing. Some of them were definitely not even from his floor and he kind of hated that he couldn't be selective with his heightened hearing. He runs a hand down half his face.]

Did anyone else notice anything weird last night?

[Private Video » Hotel Staff]
Is there some kind of maintenance going on? I kept hearing weird banging noises last night and that sulfur smell in the restaurant is pretty overwhelming. [His voice is completely calm and neutral. He doesn't sound angry or upset at all, just a curious hotel occupant wanting some answers.]

[OPEN HOTEL SPAM - THURSDAY MORNING/EARLY AFTERNOON]

[Allison needed another tattoo.

It was starting not so differently from the others, only this time when the images and itches to sketch it out came to her, she knew there was something else going on. Now that she knew there were things she'd forgotten, a whole life she had no clue about, these impulses were no longer casual.

Thursday afternoon, it gets worse than its ever been, so she finally grabs the complimentary pad and pen on the desk in her room and spends hours in front of the fireplace, curled up in one of the chairs drawing. Her efforts are punctuated with gentle cursing and several wadded up sheets thrown in or at the fire, resulting in some trash scattered near her seat.

When she's done, she sits back and stares at the stylized arrowhead she's sketched out in painstaking detail: a tactical arrowhead, shaded in grey (silver, it's a silver arrowhead, she knows this somehow), and stamped with an engraving of a fleur de lis.

And she has no idea what it means.]

[ELEVATOR SPAM FOR PACKLESSALPHA (CW: possible NSFW content in comments)]

[After she's grabbed some food in the restaurant, Allison heads into the elevator to go back to her room. She feels weirdly exhausted, and she needs a nap.

She doesn't realize she's not alone until she punches the button, the doors slide shut...and she glances to her left to see an all too familiar face that's still haunting her sleep.]

Jesusfuck!...

[He's avoided doing this because...he didn't know how to do it, honestly. And he didn't want to. He didn't want to shatter some kid's world like this. But Stiles....the real Stiles had showed up nearly two weeks ago and-- okay, Scott's been avoiding him like the plague, honestly, but....he can't avoid this anymore.]

Hey... when you have a minute, I need to talk to you.

[Scott has kept to himself since he talked to Stiles last night. He's expertly avoided everyone today, eating meals later than usual and keeping to his room the rest of the time. He doesn't know how to process everything that he's had dumped on him in the last 24 hours.

Stiles was here. Properly aged and guarded. Which meant he'd been wrong about Thomas. Had been giving some brainwashed kid empty, useless hope, that wasn't his to give him in the first place. He felt bad for that, guilty in a way he'd never imagined possible.

He needed to talk to someone and...honestly? The best person for the job, the only one who knows exactly how he feels and what's going on in his head...is Lydia. So, he heads up to her floor and knocks on her door lightly.]

Good evening, Esteemed Guests!

[E. Poe shows up on the screen of everyone's black and white communicator screens.]

We're welcoming new arrivals today. Please do come by the lobby after dinner to meet them. Some of you might find familiar faces.

[With a wider smile, he disconnects the video.

Anyone who does come by the lobby today will find the keys and the names of the guests laid out on the counter as follows:


Jordan Parrish - room 241
Stiles Stilinski - room 712]

[Locked to Scott]
Scott don't be mad, I went into the maze, after breakfast, and no sign of anything larger than rabbits out there.  How far were you and Thomas in when you were attacked?  Don't worry I'm not looking for it to actually attack it or anything, I mean there are throwing knives here, but I'm really horrible with my aim.  They're weighted wrong for accuracy.  Though I'm probably going to go try hunting sometime with Katniss, maybe I'll get better at it.

[She's turned the device so the video's showing the bed and not her, though she does shift on the bed, showing her ankle's a little swollen, without realizing it.  There's also some quick sketches she did of the maze, trying to map it out, which is probably what she intended to show.] 

Though to be honest I think I only got a little way in.  It's tougher than it looks from the windows on the upper floors.  I've been up there trying to map it out from the windows, but, something's weird about it.  I don't think it's really changing, but my sketches never seem to match up. 

[Open to everyone]
[Rayan's left her com on after talking with Scott without meaning to.  It's facing the ceiling but in the background you can hear her singing softly to herself.  She's actually not that bad, not amazingly great.  She comes into view fully dressed but a towel's wrapped around her head like she just washed it.] 

Damn thought I turned that off.  Sorry!

[The wounds he'd sustained the previous night were healed now, but he hadn't gotten around to taking off the bandages on his arm and around his ribs, and the one on his arm is visible.]

Consider this a public warning: Everyone should stay out of the maze behind the hotel. It's dangerous. Like....had a run-in with a dragon last night, stay the hell out of there,dangerous [He manages an incredulous scoff as he shakes his head.] I know how this might sound, but just remember we all woke up in a cable car with no memory of how we got there and we're stuck in a hotel we aren't even allowed to know the actual location of. [He pauses and presses his lips together for a moment.] I just thought everyone should know.

[Stiles (Thomas)]
Are you okay?

Spam for: Stiles Thomas, OTA, & Allison Argent Rappelevie( Read more... )

Good morning, Guests!

[E. Poe shows up on the screen of everyone's black and white communicator screens.]

We're welcoming new arrivals today. Please do come by the Lobby after lunch to meet them. Some of you might find familiar faces.

[With a wider smile, he disconnects the video.

Anyone who does come by the lobby today will find the keys and the names of the guests laid out on the counter as follows:

Jean Grey - room 531
Jordan Parrish - room 241
Daisy Johnson - room 730
Dahlia Martin - room 730
Lydia Martin - room 217]

[Spam for Alex Deveraux -- Roommate]

[Thomas still feels vaguely disoriented after talking to the strange clerk at the front desk. He doesn't have a good feeling about him in the same way he didn't have a good feeling about Janson when he'd pulled Thomas into that room to talk to him before the scorch. But like then, right now there isn't much choice for what he can do here. He's dirty, hungry, and tired. Those three things aren't a good combination for clear thinking, so instead of trying to escape, he heads to his assigned room. 211.

He makes his way up the stairs and down the hallway, pausing in front of the door labeled 211 and using the key to unlock it. He pauses just inside when he spots someone else already there, another boy. He recognizes him as the one who was freaking out on the cable car.]

I guess we're roommates.

[Spam -- OTA]

[After he's had a bite to eat and slept for a few hours, Thomas makes his way out of the room and down the hall, looking around curiously and making note of the others that he sees. Of the differences in each level of the motel -- there isn't much that distinguishes one from another save the numbers on the doors.

He wants to get the hell out of here and figure out how to find his friends and rescue Minho. He can be found at various times exploring the motel's various locations: the bar, the lobby, the various floors, the library, the ballroom, and finally, outside the front of the motel, and later outside in the back where he find himself standing in front of a giant maze.]

Welcome to Motel California.

Our anticipated guests arriving today are as follows:

Rayan Grayson
Katniss Everdeen
Alexander Deveraux
Dutch Velders
Rey
Allison Argent
Erica Reyes
Scott McCall
Thomas

Do enjoy your stay.