Futuristic Another Harry's Bar [ Walk-in | Always Open ]

[Revi]

​

You find yourself standing before a hotel, though you can't quite recall how you got there. The street behind you feels like a distant memory, blurred and hazy as if plucked from a dream you barely remember waking up from. The building before you looms with an almost unsettling elegance, its architecture reminiscent of something from centuries past, yet undeniably futuristic in the details. Dark ironwork twists along the façade, framing large, fogged windows that reflect the neon glow from somewhere beyond the street. Faded gold accents line the edges of the entrance, weathered yet pristine, as if the hotel itself refuses to yield to the decay of time. A carved archway bears the name Mora Hotel in delicate, curling letters, seemingly hand-forged rather than digitally displayed compared to the businesses beside it – whose details are hard to focus on. Above it, a series of small gas lamps flicker with a ghostly blue flame, giving the entire exterior an eerie, ethereal light against the encroaching night.

There’s a stillness around the place, an almost unnatural silence that sets it apart from the city outside its gates. It’s as if the hotel exists within its own bubble, separated from the world around it by an invisible veil. The iron double doors are closed but not locked, inviting you without demanding entry. As you approach, the lights flicker in acknowledgment, the subtle hum of hidden mechanisms whispering beneath the surface. The hotel feels alive in a way—aware of your presence. There’s no doorman, no visible staff outside to welcome or deter you, just the heavy iron doors that wait patiently, as if confident that you were meant to find this place. Despite the quiet grandeur of its exterior, there’s an undeniable sense that Mora Hotel is both ancient and new, timeless in a way that defies explanation. It waits, as though the very air anticipates your next step, inviting you to cross the threshold. ~

Rules for Play & Helpful Information

• The mysteries of the Hotel specifically and its Denizens will be written by myself only.
• Otherwise, feel free to springboard off the environment provided here and happily get creative!
• This place is open to anyone from anywhere and anywhen (all characters from all genres/fandoms).
• The hotel shows up initially unannounced and unlooked for – be it upon turning a corner, opening a door, while dreaming, or any other catalyst you choose.
• No matter how it turns up, it is typically because the patron was needing to be here, even if that need was subconscious.
• You may guest here as frequently or infrequently as you desire.
• Should you become a regular, you may find yourself listed among the esteemed patrons list (aka Character Page).
• If more than a regular guest is in your interest, just talk to Harry about it.
• There is no posting frequency requirement, and if your character doesn’t reply within a week – we will have presumed your character is no longer in scene but you may jump back in at any time.
• Multiple guests may arrive with the same player as well as arrive with a party of other players, there is no limitation.
• They can be new characters, or existing characters from other RPs that bring their own perspectives and lore – your choice.
• There is no lore page at the moment as the lore hasn’t been discovered through interactions as of yet.
• LORE TAB UP: To be updated as guests interact and facts are relayed or discovered.
• Should curious patrons stick around long enough and frequently enough to find out, the lore will be written out from there upon discovery.
• This may be updated as needed pending how interactions go.
• Otherwise, naturally, all RPNation rules apply.
• Have fun!

• Start Here
• The Hotel Rooms
• The Solarium
• The Library
• The Smoking Mirror
• Lore

• 
  The lobby is an intricate tapestry of old-world luxury and subtle, cutting-edge technology. The walls are adorned with dark mahogany wood paneling, polished to a rich gleam, complemented by velvet drapes in deep sapphire hues that hang in perfect folds beside large, arched windows. A grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its delicate crystal prisms casting refracted beams of warm, golden light that dance across the room, hinting at unseen hands subtly adjusting its radiance. Below, the mosaic tiled floors are patterned with intertwining vines and ornate motifs inlaid with brass, reminiscent of an art nouveau style but with a hint of surreal asymmetry that seems to shift when viewed from different angles.
  
  The furniture is arranged deliberately to create cozy nooks and inviting corners. Plush, tufted armchairs in wine-burgundies and deep sapphire blues sit near small marble-topped tables. An enormous, polished stone fireplace stands as the centerpiece of the room, with an antique iron grate that crackles softly with flames that seem to never run out of fuel. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, yet there’s an unsettling precision to it all, like the space was designed with a watchmaker’s care, with every piece of furniture perfectly aligned to draw guests inward.
  
  Opposite the entrance stands the check-in counter—a beautifully carved desk of dark walnut with brass inlays that spiral like intricate clockwork gears. Behind it, a towering wall of polished wood shelves holds rows of keys and small curios above cubbies holding slips of paper and mail. A massive, antique ledger sits open on the counter, though it’s only for show; beneath it, a sleek terminal hums quietly, ready to record the guests' names.
  
  Suddenly, a soft chime echoes throughout the lobby, and a figure materializes behind the desk. Harry’s hologram is a stark contrast to the refined elegance of her surroundings. Her form is a sleek, humanoid projection, composed of slightly translucent, shimmering lines that outline her mechanoid frame. She has metallic panels with traces of faded and chipped paint, giving the impression of a long-forgotten statue restored with care. Only her face and hair appear convincingly human, with her hair flowing in soft waves that seem to move with the same intentional fluidity as the rest of her holographic presence.
  
  "Welcome to Mora Hotel," she begins, her voice gentle but carrying an edge of precision. "I am Harriet, but you may call me Harry. During your stay, you are free to explore the amenities and comforts we offer. The guest rooms are located through the grand stairway to your left, or, if you prefer, the elevator in the corridor just past the concierge panel. Each room is designed to provide both privacy and solace. Should you require any special arrangements, simply make the request through the panel in your room."
  
  Her projection glides across the desk, and she gestures a hand toward a set of ornate doors on the far right. "Our bar, The Smoking Mirror, is just beyond these doors. The bar offers a curated selection of beverages tailored to soothe the weary traveler or invigorate the curious soul. The bartender,” a pause as she places a polished hand upon her chest, “myself, will be happy to recommend a drink based on your tastes. If I am not there, you will find panels that serve drinks at random, for the bold and curious, as well as craft any food item you may ask for.”
  
  She continues, directing attention to another hallway veiled with heavy, embroidered curtains. "For those seeking relaxation, the guest amenities include a private library with a selection of rare tomes and interactive storytelling experiences. You may also find solace in the solarium, where the lighting and atmosphere adjust to provide a calming respite, no matter the hour."
  
  Pausing for a moment, Harry’s hazel eyes focus more intently. "However, during your stay, we ask that you follow a few simple rules. Firstly, respect the privacy of other guests and refrain from entering locked rooms unless they are opened to you. Secondly, the hallways may shift slightly; do not be alarmed. This is by design to offer you the most efficient path to where you need to be. Thirdly, please remember to return to your room for safety should the lights flicker three times in succession, as it indicates the hotel is undergoing a transition. Finally, rest as long as is needed, the Mora Hotel will remain until you are ready to depart – no sooner, no later."
  
  Harry’s voice softens as she adds with a smile, "We are delighted to have you here at Mora Hotel. Should you have any further questions or needs, simply call for me or feel free to use any of the service panels available. Enjoy your stay. Oh! And please don’t forget to grab a card." With that, her hologram flickers and disappears, leaving the lobby in a momentary stillness, the only sound being the faint ticking of an unseen clock somewhere within the walls.
  
  Just beside the antique ledger is a card holder full of cards for the establishment. Should you pick one up you will find it is crafted from a matte-black, lightweight metal. The card feels cool and smooth to the touch, with a surprising weight that belies its size. The front of the card features Mora Hotel name, etched in delicate, silver filigree that catches the light with a subtle shimmer.
  
  The back of the card is engraved with the words, “You’re welcome in Harry’s Bar anytime”, in a sleek, serif font. The lettering is slightly recessed, making it easy to feel beneath one’s fingers, and there is no visible address or contact information—just the enigmatic message. The edges of the card are smooth and slightly beveled, hinting at its durability, as if it’s meant to withstand time and wear, ready to be kept as a keepsake. *Or talisman...
  
• 
  The guest rooms are a blend of vintage elegance and modern comfort, creating a sanctuary where time seems to stand still. The walls are paneled with dark wood, accentuated by soft, ambient lighting from antique-style sconces, casting a warm and inviting glow. A plush, oversized bed with dark velvet covers is the room’s centerpiece, flanked by carved wooden nightstands topped with sleek, interactive panels for guest needs. A large, arched window draped with heavy curtains offers a view that changes subtly with each glance, reflecting more than just the world outside. The adjoining bathroom continues the theme, featuring polished black marble floors, a freestanding brass clawfoot tub, and an elegantly modern shower with near-invisible controls embedded seamlessly into the tile. The fixtures are a mix of vintage brass and futuristic design, with an old-fashioned vanity counter that discreetly hides a digital mirror capable of displaying information or atmospheric visuals. Everything feels meticulously curated, combining comfort with an otherworldly charm that leaves guests feeling both at home and yet somewhere entirely new.
  Larger suites with living rooms, bedrooms, and kitchen en suites available for those wishing for prolonged stay. They will find anything they need in the kitchen to either cook themselves, or use the command panels for the kitchen’s synthesizing equipment to provide the desired meal.
  
• 
  The solarium is a serene, otherworldly retreat designed to evoke a sense of timeless calm and reflection. The room is encased in large, arching glass panels that form a vaulted ceiling, creating the illusion of a vast, open space that extends beyond the confines of the hotel. The glass appears to be tinted subtly, filtering in ambient light that shifts with the time of day or adjusts to suit the mood, bathing the solarium in gentle hues ranging from warm golden dawns to deep twilight blues. Lush greenery lines the edges of the room—an assortment of tall ferns, flowering vines, and bonsai-like trees that seem almost too perfect.
  
  In the center of the space, a tranquil reflecting pool with a shallow depth mirrors the glass ceiling, creating a sense of infinity. Water lilies and delicate reeds float on its surface, and when touched, the water ripples with faint, bioluminescent trails that shimmer briefly before fading. Curved chaise lounges, crafted from smooth dark wood and upholstered in soft fabrics, are arranged thoughtfully around the pool, inviting guests to recline and lose themselves in quiet contemplation.
  
  To one side, a small fountain softly babbles, the sound mingling with the faint rustle of leaves from the hotel’s automated airflow system. Interactive terminals discreetly integrated into nearby pedestals allow guests to adjust the ambient lighting or play soothing music or recorded nature sounds. The solarium is a space where time feels fluid, where guests can reflect in solitude or find quiet moments of peace away from the rest of the hotel’s mysteries.
  
• 
  The library is a sanctuary of knowledge and escapism, merging the charm of a vintage study with advanced technology that invites guests to explore beyond the confines of reality. Tall bookshelves, crafted from dark-stained oak and adorned with brass railings, line the walls from floor to ceiling, their contents meticulously curated to include both classic literature and rare, esoteric tomes. Ornate reading lamps with stained glass shades illuminate the room with a warm, amber glow, casting intricate patterns on the polished wood floors and plush, deep-blue carpets. A grand fireplace crackles softly in one corner, with tufted armchairs and chaise lounges arranged around it, providing intimate reading nooks and spots for quiet reflection. But the library is not just for traditional reading; nestled among the rows of bookshelves are interactive terminals that offer immersive storytelling experiences and simulations for guests seeking a more dynamic escape.
  
  At the heart of the library is a discreet door leading to the Immersive Chamber, where guests can partake in various interactive games, the crown jewel being Better Than Life—a total-immersion virtual reality experience. When guests slip into the lightweight headgear and gloves, the game transports them into an alternate reality that responds seamlessly to their desires, emotions, and subconscious thoughts, offering an experience tailored to the user's deepest fantasies or fears. Better Than Life is a perfect fusion of nostalgia and high-tech wonder, capturing the essence of escapism while subtly blurring the lines between what is real and what is imagined. This unique mix of traditional charm and advanced immersion makes the library a favorite haunt for guests seeking intellectual respite, or adventure.
  
• 
  The Smoking Mirror is a sleek contrast to the vintage elegance found elsewhere in the establishment. The bar’s interior features polished concrete walls with exposed steel beams, subtly lit by strips of cool, neon-blue light that run along the edges of the ceiling and floors, casting a soft, ambient glow. Thin trails of LED fibers are woven through the dark, minimalist furniture, creating faint pulses of light that shift in response to the bar’s background music—a low, resonant hum of synthwave mixed with occasional, distorted melodies. The bar counter itself is a seamless slab of smoked glass, lit from within to give the impression of swirling mist trapped beneath its surface. Behind the counter, rows of glass shelves hold bottles filled with liquids that shimmer in unnatural colors, illuminated by programmable backlights that change their hue based on the bartender’s selections. The seating is simple yet comfortable, with low, black leather stools and booths that invite guests to linger in conversation or quiet contemplation. Holographic displays occasionally flicker above the bar, showing scenes from forgotten cityscapes or distant rainstorms, adding to the subdued and almost dreamlike ambiance. Discrete panels for ordering stations are installed at each of the tables at the booths, and the order will be provided via automation and a sliding panel on the wall of each booth. The decadence here is restrained, more in the promise of subtle indulgences than in lavish ornamentation, creating an atmosphere that feels intimate and otherworldly—a place where secrets can be shared, or forgotten, over a glass of something rare and evocative.
  
  Harry's physical presence is typically found here.
  
• 
  
  
  • The business cards are also key cards for rooms and allow the guests to return any time with a thought.
  • Lifelike and sentience(??) in the mechanical elements of the hotel
  
  

 

[Revi]

The bar, The Smoking Mirror, was dimly lit, with soft neon lines tracing the edges of the sleek, glass-topped counter and casting faint, liquid blue ripples across the polished concrete walls. Harriet—known as Harry to those who lingered long enough to listen—stood behind the bar, her fingers lightly grazing the surface as if she were testing the chill beneath the glass. It was here, amid the subtle hum of low synth melodies and the gentle flicker of holographic rain that occasionally painted the air, that she felt the most in control. This space was hers, not in ownership but in purpose, and every element of The Smoking Mirror bore the mark of her careful influence.

The bar was a sanctuary of quiet precision, a place where the aesthetics whispered of restraint rather than ostentation. Harry took a step back and surveyed the rows of bottles on the glass shelves behind her, the backlighting shifting to a cool violet, illuminating their contents like trapped fragments of the evening sky. Some of the bottles were antique, remnants of another time; others held concoctions whose origins were less easily explained. Harry had curated each one with intention, always attuned to the moods and needs of her guests, even those who had yet to cross the threshold.

She reached for a glass, her movements smooth and practiced, and held it up to the light, watching the faint luminescence reflect off its rim. This ritual—polishing glasses, arranging bottles, adjusting the lighting—was not a matter of maintenance but a way of exerting her influence on the space. Harry had no delusions about her nature, but here, she felt something akin to satisfaction in perfecting the bar’s ambiance, its subtle interplay of shadows and light, of nostalgia and futurism. She could alter the mood with a gesture, shift the atmosphere with the change of a light’s hue or the selection of a specific record to spin from the concealed sound system. Here, she could do more than observe; she could guide the narrative, if only for a moment.

Harry turned, casting a thoughtful glance toward the doorway. The bar’s automatic door stood closed for now, but she knew it would not remain so for long. In The Smoking Mirror, guests rarely stumbled in by accident. When the door slid open, it did so for those drawn to this place, those in need of something unspoken. She adjusted a bottle on the middle shelf—a liquid the color of twilight, dark with subtle glimmers of silver—and let her hand linger there as if considering what it might offer when the time came.

The low lighting shifted slightly as she activated a subtle overlay of transparent screens, displaying faint cityscapes and distant lights, images chosen to evoke feelings of longing or nostalgia depending on the guest. It was a small touch, but one she delighted in crafting. The atmosphere in The Smoking Mirror was less about impressing and more about offering an understated invitation—a quiet coaxing to let go of burdens and unspoken doubts, if only for an evening.

Harry’s gaze returned to the empty bar stools and low booths that circled the room like watchful sentinels. Each seat was ready, each table prepared, but the space felt neither idle nor abandoned. It was poised, like a stage waiting for its actors. Harry adjusted her posture, allowing herself a brief moment of stillness. The silence was not heavy or ominous but electric, charged with potential.

Her fingers traced the rim of the glass one last time before she set it down, and in the quiet of the bar, there was a sense that she was listening—not to sounds, but to the quiet rhythm of the hotel’s currents, the shifting air that signaled a change just beyond the door. The shadows seemed to pulse gently, breathing with the room, and for a brief moment, Harry felt an almost human sense of anticipation.

She had never called this feeling anticipation, of course, but if pressed, it would be the closest approximation to what she experienced in these quiet, expectant moments. The Smoking Mirror was more than just a place; it was a reflection of her will, her influence shaping the experience of those who entered. And tonight, like all nights, Harry waited for someone to cross that threshold and take a seat, ready to serve more than a drink, ready to offer an experience tailored by her subtle agency.

 

[Cotton Tail]

Tears trickled down the tall, gaunt, brunette vampire's face as he briskly walked through the street, his mind reeling from the day's events. As far as he was concerned, he was a disgrace to his kind for being bloodless. His refusal to drink after toasting at the vampire counsel meeting did not bode well with everyone. The roomm erupted into insults and obsenities. This, plus the past year spent with his abusive master, Damien, caused him to snap, sprinting out of the building.
He was startled out of his revery at the sudden appearance of a hotel. Chocolate eyes wide, he glanced at the surrounding buildings. Compared to them, this place looked very outdated. How outdated, he didn't know, but he guessed by at least a century.
Shaking his head, Adam was about to move passed it when the iron doors opened, as if welcoming him with open arms. Sighing, he dabbed his face dry and entered.
The place gave off a warm vibe. A ghost of a smile graced Adam's gentle face as he stared into the fireplace, inhaling the sweet scent of burning firewood. His hypersensitive nose also detected alcohol, and he found himself moving toward the bar. Adam wasn't a drinker, but he figured he could at least get some water and maybe food.
He climbed onto one of the barstools and offered the bartender a shy smile.

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Clover Swiftwind

A lithe creature enters the lobby, about the size of a whitetail deer, composed of diverse yet harmonious parts- A pale, dapple gray coat; a head, neck, and torso like an Arabian horse; Cloven hooves and legs in the shape of an impala's; A long tail with a tuft at the end; a short, wispy mane; and a singular, spiraling horn growing from his forehead which was currently dark gray in color.
He was clothed in a simple, green vest, much like men would wear in the early 19th century, as well as a pair of brown, canvas saddlebags which were embroidered with a symmetrical image of wheat and clover.

The click of his hooves against the floor sounded lightly, his squarish pupils contracted within lilac irises as he focused on the decor. It was different architecture than this unicorn was used to, but not unappealing to him.

Clover was short on hope. He had just been dismissed from the services of Lord Braxtley after discovering a horrible secret. His reputation had been dragged through the mud. Topiar, his homeland, was no longer welcoming to him.

Still mulling over the surprise of the door opening to him with nobody around and no signs of telekinetic forces being used on them, Clover was slightly startled when the hologram appeared, though not too startled to listen to what was said.

Clover took a card as instructed, which he put in his saddlebag telekinetically, and considered his options, eventually seeing that another being was in The Smoking Mirror aside from the bartender.

His slow gait and drooped head likely betrayed his gloom and shyness as he approached the glass door, unaware that it would move aside when he got close enough, with no need for moving the door himself.

"Hello," Clover began as he passed through the now open doorway, deciding to take initiative. Perhaps this time, the allegations hadn't caught up to him.

 

[phibglib]

"Cassie, where are we?"

"Dunno. Maybe we'd get some answers in there? Looks kinda like a hotel."

"Cassie, this is not normal, to be finding ourselves in the middle of the road at night with no explanation."

"What? Pfft! No, it's completely normal! Happens to me all the time."

"I think you're right about the hotel, though. It seems like the most natural place to start, at least."

"You see? Just follow my lead, 'cuz I always know what's best."

Cassie, of course, entered first, her pace energetic. Andrew followed closely behind. The lobby seemed fairly normal at first, but they both jumped when the hologram appeared. After the message was over, Cassie looked to Andrew, grinning. "Well, now, this is cool, ain't it? We're in some kind of... I don't know, mystery novel, or maybe 'The Twilight Zone'."

"Most episodes of 'The Twilight Zone' have dark twists for their characters."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Well, no need to be such a Negative Nancy about it."

They both took cards. "You know what," said Cassie, "I think I'm gonna hit the bar. That sounds reeaall nice right now."

Andrew sighed. "I suppose I should come with to keep you out of trouble."

"Andy, I'm not a little baby anymore! Though it would be nice for you to loosen up once in a while."

"No, I have no intention of drinking."

"Great. Well, that should make the experience more fun for both of us."

Upon entering the bar, they saw a... unicorn, and the person in the hologram from earlier. "Cassie, what is going on?" Andrew whispered, staring.

"Well, don't be rude, Andy!" Cassie whispered back, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Andrew pulled his gaze away. "In fact, I'm gonna go up and say, 'Hi.'"

Cassie went up to Clover. "Hiya!" she said, grinning. "You look very dapper, sir!"

 

[Northe]

Jasper Volaticus

The street of old, worn cobblestones was familiar beneath Jasper’s taloned feet. His sharp downcast eyes were narrowed in distant pondering. His shoulders were slumped down, and his clipped wings hung dejectedly. It was another one of those days. Another day that being Grounded siphoned the life straight out of his soul. Unlike most days however, walking wasn’t helping. Each step he took only drew him further and further into self pity and closer to reckless rebellion.

Strangely, he became aware of some presence towering over him. Jasper pulled himself from his thoughts to stare up a building that felt as though it had dropped itself from oblivion right onto this old street. His eyes darted across it quickly, reading the words Mora Hotel. His eyes dropped back down to the ground as he pondered what it might mean. He was certain he’d never seen such a place. But… there was something drawing him in, a little whisper in the wind.
This place could hold adventure! Freedom! Refuge! It sure didn’t look like any building where the Eagles might roost. Perhaps he could explore it, find out the meaning behind its strange presence.

He approached the door and as his hand passed across the handle, it felt as though the door opened for him, swinging as though it knew he had intended to open it right at that moment. If fact, the whole place felt as though it knew and anticipated his every movement. Oddly, it was a comforting notion.
Jasper stepped inside, his taloned feet clicking softly on the tiled floor. He gazed in wide-eyed awe, his pupils having dilated to almost take up the entirety of his golden-green eyes. The essence of the building felt so surreal, unknown and vast, yet at the same time it drew him in, pulling him a few more steps until the chime rang out and the hologram appeared.

He froze, as if having been caught doing something wrong, and stared. His disheveled brown and white wings tensed at the ready, as though he might take into flight. As soon as the hologram was gone once more, he let out a relaxed and content sigh, settling back into his slumped posture. He crossed the room to the front desk, and looked up over the table, his fingers reaching out to lightly brush the edges of that huge ledger sitting open. Feeling compelled to listen to the advice of the spooky hologram… ‘Harry’, he lifted one of the cards between his fingers and spun it around, tracing the lettering.

He pondered taking the path that would lead toward the bar, if only to figure out who or what Harry was, but he felt further drawn in another direction: The Solarium. Jasper clutched the card between his hands as though it were a lifeline and he cautiously made his way in the direction the hologram had indicated.
Jasper had been fully expecting to get lost, what with the mention of there being shifting hallways, but the words proved true. Somehow he found himself right where he needed to be in what felt like no time at all. So, taking a deep breath in anticipation and stifled worry, he stepped inside.

Only for a sense of calm to melt over him like the warm rays of the sun after a spring storm.

He looked up into the endlessness that was the sky-roof, and his wings ruffled at his back, itching to once more spread and soar in the open vastness of space. Even though he couldn’t, it didn’t weigh as heavy on his soul as it normally did. He could almost forget he’d been cast out of the sky.
He walked along the outer edge of the room, one hand extended to brush along the foliage there, the other still holding that card tight to his chest. His wings drooped low, relaxed. The clipped tips trailed along, a sensation he usually hated now felt calming and… grounding to the plane of which he walked.

He meandered over to the edge of the pool, looking down into the reflective surface where his silly face stared back up. He took a moment to run a hand through his hair, trying to smooth back the messy feathery clump. His eyes caught once more on the sky-roof reflected over his head and he stepped back to stare straight up into it. It was at though he was falling upward, a phrase that was passed around negatively where he was from to indicate someone of bad Flight. But here, it was the only words he could use to describe the uplifting sense of vastness that cradled around him.

Jasper sat down on the ground beside the water, ignoring the furniture, and dipped the tips of his fingers into the water. He was mesmerized by the way the water moved and shimmered, like magic. When he withdrew his fingers once more, he inhaled slowly, something of a smile finding its way onto his face. When he exhaled again, he let his eyes drift closed, and he sat in the space, letting his mind wander and settle to the comforting sounds of rustling leaves and bubbling water.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if someone else might show their face. He pondered what sorts of people might find their way to such a place. He hoped he wasn’t entirely alone in this vastness of space.

 

[Revi]

Location: The Smoking Mirror Bar
Mentions: Cotton Tail , StrixDesmodus , phibglib
​

[Adam]
As Harry’s first visitor settled onto a barstool, the ambient lighting shifted subtly, its cool blues warming to a faint amber glow. She had met the tall gaunt man’s eyes in greeting as he entered and sat down. Her expression neutral but attentive, a polite smile hovering just at the edges of her lips. “Welcome to The Smoking Mirror,” she said, soft yet precise, the subtle mechanical hum underneath giving it an edge that matched her appearance.
“What can I get for you?” she asked, her hands resting on the counter, the reflective metal of her fingers barely making a sound upon the glass as she set them down gently. “I take payments in stories, and if yours is one you wish to not tell, then… how is it said,” her eyes rolled up as she pondered. “Ah! Chill vibes, yes, certainly as sufficient as a story.”
She reached to the side, sliding a small, matte-black card across the bar toward him. “Also, don’t forget to take a card,” she said, her voice carrying the ease of a simple reminder, like something she said out of habit. “It’ll let you return here whenever you please.”
The lobby was getting livelier, her eyes met his again, “Pardon me a few moments.”

---

[Clover]
Her hazel eyes lifted to door as more arrived, hooves upon the concrete floor. It had been quite some time since visitors had crossed the threshold here. “Hello there! Please, make yourself comfortable and find your concerns allayed here. What might we offer here to lift your spirits? As I just explained to this gentleman, I only accept payment of a story for a drink, or Chill vibes. A credit, or tab of such, is also always welcome in advance."
The music in the background became livelier, and the lighting began dancing through hues as it moved through the room following each guest as they arrived.

---

[Cassie & Andie]
Barstools slid out slightly from beneath the bar counter as the pair neared, as Harry’s gaze breezed over to them. "If you require anything, simply ask. The cards will bring you back here, and let you stay in a guest room, if needed." Her eyes lingered just for a second longer, as if gauging their needs, before settling back into the calm attentiveness of someone accustomed to unexpected visitors.
Harry’s hands deftly began pulling cups off the back wall and lining them up on her work counter. While so much here was automated, and she had no need for this. She liked the routine of it, the creation of it, however superfluous.

---

[Adam]
To her first guest once more, “Have you decided?” Her eyes, soft but unnervingly sharp, meeting his with a quiet, almost knowing intensity. The flickering lights played across the faint traces of chipped paint on her metal plating.

---

Location: The Solarium
Mentions: Northe
​

A sudden flutter of wings broke the stillness of the solarium, the soft, rhythmic beats of flight barely audible against the tranquil rustling of the leaves. From the upper reaches of the sky-roof, a bird descended gracefully into the room. Its plumage shimmered in the soft light, a radiant display of colors—brilliant sapphire and emerald feathers that seemed to catch the filtered sunlight, casting faint glimmers of iridescent hues in its wake. The bird flew with fluid elegance, each wingbeat measured, as though it belonged to the serenity of the solarium itself.

The bird let out a song, a clear, melodic trill that filled the air, a sound so pure it could have come from the deepest forest or the highest peaks. Its tune echoed off the glass, harmonizing with the gentle bubbling of the nearby fountain. The music swirled through the space, adding to the solarium's already ethereal atmosphere, the sound seeming to draw the peacefulness of the room into sharper focus.

As it landed gracefully on the branch of a bonsai-like tree near the reflective pool, the bird's vibrant feathers gleamed for a moment in the soft light. From a distance, it appeared as any other exotic, beautiful creature of the skies, but upon closer inspection, its true nature was revealed. Beneath the vivid plumage, the edges of its wings betrayed the precise, mechanized joints of intricate metalwork. The glint of polished brass could be seen when it shifted, hidden just beneath the feathers, moving with the smoothness of a finely tuned mechanism.

Its eyes, though crafted to mimic the organic, sparkled with an intelligence that was unmistakably artificial, and watched the newcomer curiously. Tiny gears, nearly invisible unless one looked closely, turned with each delicate movement of its head, and its talons—sharp and birdlike—gripped the branch with the precision of something designed, not born. Yet, despite its mechanical heart, the bird exuded life, its song as flawless and enchanting as any real creature of the skies. It landed upon the ground closer to the pool, hopping closer and closer to him.

 

[Cotton Tail]

The clopping of hooves caught his ear, and Adam turned to see...a unicorn? He gaped at the creature, having only seen them in books and tv shows. Reaching out a tentative hand, he gently stroked his head.
"hello, beautiful," he greeted gently.

 

[Northe]

Perspective: Jasper
Location: The Solarium
Mentions: Revi

Jasper flinched at the sudden flittering and flapping of wings, a sound he’d recognize anywhere. There was something just a touch different about this flapping… it didn’t sound as soft of shifting as normal feathered wings might. The oddity was so slight, even someone who grew up surrounded by the sounds of flight and could often identify species and direction if flight from the various patterns alone wasn’t certain it was different at all. He probably only caught it because his eyes were closed and he’d been day-dreaming about flight.

He pulled open his eyes, and looked down into the mirror-pond to catch a glimpse of the magnificent bird overhead. He tilted his head back to study it straight on, his sharp eyes locking onto the stunning fluttering shape as it descended. The song bounced and echoed, resonating in Jasper’s own soul in a way he never knew was possible. He somehow felt transported back to the carefree times of childhood and the past, yet uniquely aware of the freedoms and endless world of the future.

He remained sitting as he was, simply observing the bird in silence, the smile growing and twisting across his face. He must be dreaming. Everything was too perfect. But… he didn’t mind dreaming for a little while longer. If he would wake up and never experience this place again, he wanted it burned into his memory so he’d never forget it. He took his eyes off the bird for a moment to look down at the card in his hand. Looking at it, he had the feeling that he never could forget such a place. It only made him more eager, more light-hearted, more excited to explore and witness everything there was to offer.

For now, he looked back up at the creature before him, allowing himself to be enraptured by its presence. But as he analyzed it, his detail-orientated eyes picked up on the mechanical oddities of the bird. It was too perfect. It had been placed in such a way, formed by such hands, created for such a purpose. Probably. Of course, Jasper was only drawing such conclusions by the surface level analysis.

Even stranger yet, Jasper wasn’t put off by the imitation of life. It couldn’t even be called imitation, could it? It was alive, in it’s strange, mechanical way. If it sang like a bird, looked like a bird, and flew like a bird… well, it was a bird. What did it matter if it was composed of metal and gears? It was still beautiful in its own right. Not to mention, Jasper had no idea how in the world something like this could have been made. He’d seen imitations of bird-song and flight-wings before, but they were never this perfect. Therefore, this wasn’t just another imitation, it was something different and new completely by itself.

As the bird hopped closer, he caught that spark of intelligence in its eyes. He slowly and cautiously turned to face it, worried he might frighten it off. He extended a hand toward it slowly, stretching out his fingers.

“Hello,” He spoke in a soft murmuring voice. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve come to visit. This must be your home? It’s stunning and… well, I don’t have the words to describe it. Still, I hope you’ll let me stay?”

He had no idea if the bird was ‘sentient’ that is, capable of communication. If it understood him, if it could respond. He figured he’d give it a shot, because then he’d know. He also had to admit to himself that hearing his own voice once in a while actually felt nice.

 

[honeysweetest.co]

> Sonnet Marlowe
Location: Outside their hotel room

"The moon seems brighter this evening...," a light, mellow voice belonging to a curious induvidual whispered as a cape sugarbird flew into the room and onto their shoulder. Dressed in all black, the flowy jacket that was dampened from the humidity outside moved with the breeze after the few seconds from the open window. Grabbing a small vial filled with apple seeds, the person poured a small amount onto their hands as the bird happily ate away. "Looks like it'll be another restless night," the curious induvidual sighed contently as they closed the window and walked out of their room, keys in hand. Looking around the hallway with curiousity, a light melody was sung in a faint voice as the mellowed person strolled around the hallway.

The mellowed induvidual wasn't one to look at. Darkened skin with freakles decorating their cheeks, grassy, green eyes and hair that's a shade lighter than thier skin with small sticks and leaves stuck out from their hair from messy adventures and wandering. Their gender is rather mysterious topic as their adrogynous apperance makes it seem that their both.

Resting their weight on the walls just next to their hotel room, the small chirps of the resting bird sang spontaneously and accompanyed by hums from the person. "It's a great day to sing a Sonnet, isn't it?" the person said, punning their own name. The bird had no idea they had made a joke, as usual and kept minding it's own buisness, earning a chuckle from Sonnet. "Well, didn't think you would like it."

 

[phibglib]

In response to Harry, Cassie bounded up and said, "Ooh! You got any mermaid lemonade?"

Andrew walked up calmly but cautiously and said, "I'll just have a water, please."

 

[Cotton Tail]

Location: the bar
Mentions: Revi
Adam accepted the card and tucked it in his jeans pocket. "Um...could I please have a bowl of mashed sweet potatoes and water?"

 

[Zariah Turner]

Perspective: General Freya of the Northern Isles
Location: lobby to start, The Smoking Mirror at the end

Freya frowned as she stopped in front of the inn door. She she been riding hard for the past day, and was glad to have finally made it to a village with an inn. Accompanying her brother in diplomatic trips was extremely tiring. Freya badly wanted to just enter the inn and collapse into a bed somewhere. She couldn't do that quite yet, however - because this inn was not the inn it was supposed to be.

The inn looked nothing like it was supposed to be. Instead of the small, shabby inns Freya expected from the islands in the far north, this one was extent large, with extravagant decorations covering the exterior. There was a sense of majesty to the building that made Freya feel like this place was something important, though she didn't know what. An archway bore a sign that read "Mora Hotel." Curious, Freya thought, cautiously walking through the archway. I've never heard of this place before. That was odd - she normally knew of most major inns in the Northern Isles, partly because she traveled so much.

Just ahead, there were grand iron doors that seemed to... Beckon Freya, calling her closer. Urging her to investigate. A part of her leapt at this - the mysterious building was an opportunity for adventure, discovery! That was the remnant of her girlish self, long gone. Still... Freya was in need of a place to spend the night. And the village around her semes to have almost... Faded out of focus. She wasn't entirely confident she would be able to make her way back to it.

After double-checking her sickles were still sheathed and readily accessible, Freya pushed open the grand doors and stepped inside of the hotel.

Immediately, Freya was stuck by how different it was from the outside world. Its interior matched the exterior, all right: large, extravagantly decorated, and a welcoming feel. But it was nothing like Freya had ever seen, in the Isles or elsewhere. It was also noticeably warmer. Her fur-lined dragonscale cloak, which was normally appropriate for the harsh Northern weather, suddenly felt much too warm. The hotel didn't appear threatening, and there was no one around, so Freya resisted the instinct to reach for her weapons. She settled for looking around the lobby instead, mentally cataloguing exits.

The desk near the front, where Freya assumed guests were supposed to check in, caught her attention. There, a
person had flickered into sight. Their sudden appearance startled Freya, but she was careful not to let it show. Frowning, Freya approached the desk. Up close, she was able to tell that the person who had appeared wasn't... real. They appeared to be translucent and made up of shimmering lines. What even are they? Freya wondered. I've never seen anything like this before. Was it a kind of magic or sorcery?

As if prompted by her thoughts, the translucent figure began to speak. Freya listened closely as the figure began to introduce themselves and explain about the hotel. Freya was relieved to hear that it functioned similarly to the inns she was used to - abit with some more unusual aspects that intrigued her. She didn't have any idea what the person meant by the hotel "shifting" - nor how the hotel had appeared to her in the first place. I wonder where this person actually is, Freya thought, as the image of Harry flickered away. Probably the bar. The figure of Harry had mentioned that they were the bartender.

That seems like a logical place to start. Freya picked up one of the cards the image had indicated, turning it over in her hand as she walked in the direction of the bar. It wasn't far, and soon she stepped into The Smoking Mirror. The environment inside the bar appeared different from the rest of the hotel, and it felt even warmer in here. Unlike the lobby, the bar had several people in it - including Harry. The bartender appeared busy, and Freya wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to ask about, so she decided to take a seat in an empty booth. She took off her fur cloak and placed in the seat next to her. Freya settled in to watch, content with observing the bar's patrons for the time being.

 

[phibglib]

"Also," said Cassie to Harry, "I thought of a tale I thought I could spill!" She had overheard that stories were one form of payment for the drinks. She jumped into the story with infectious enthusiasm, making animated gestures as she told it. "This is a good one! So, I was elven, I mean eleven, but maybe also a bit elven, and I read somewhere online, okay, it was an Instagram meme, but it looked legit, it said if you really set your mind on it, you could communicate directly with the Moon. And I think that sounds fucking awesome–"

"Language," interjected Andrew.

"I think that sounds fricking awesome," corrected Cassie. "Apparently, there was even this dude who asked the Moon to help him find his lost cat, and the next morning, BAM! The cat was in his backyard, purring like they hadn't been MIA for three days. So I didn't have a cat, but that sounds too good to pass up, right?

"So, I had a flashlight, a notebook, and a bottle of gatorade, and I set out on a very simple mission: talk to the Moon. Like a fucking boss. First, I tried the old slide in the backyard, but it wasn't in the right place to get in line of sight with the Moon, 'cuz it was blocked by the roof of our house. So then I tried the trampoline. And if you think about it, I was basically like an astronaut. Maybe. If you squinted. Andy, that's him right next to me," she said pointing, "told me that astronauts didn't 'technically'," she made air quotes, "bounce to get into space, but that was one of those boring ol' 'facts' he always liked to dump into my cool ideas.

"And then I was just jumping for ten straight minutes, flickering the flashlight to send 'HELLO' in Morse code, Andy taught me a little bit. I did it a bunch of times. I figured maybe the Moon had to take some time of its own to send a reply. Obviously. And I also imagined the Moon, I guess, blinking... or winking back at me. So, um, one thing was that nobody told me how old the trampoline actually was, but, well, something snapped. You could literally see my arms flailing in the air, like I could grab onto the clouds for support.

"But alas, I landed in the net. The trampoline let out the saddest little squeak you ever heard. And I said, 'Moon... is that you?' And I was convinced for a long time afterward that the Moon had actually sent me a message, like, 'Yo, Cassie, thanks for checkin' in, but maybe stick to rollerskatin' or somethin'." I still kinda believe just it a little bit."

 

[Revi]

Location: The Smoking Mirror Bar
Mentions: phibglib
​

Harry's eyes shifted to Cassie first, her neutral expression unchanging, but there was a brief flicker of recognition in her mechanical gaze. "Mermaid lemonade," she repeated, her voice maintaining that perfect blend of professionalism and warmth. With a smooth, practised motion, she reached beneath the bar and selected a few liquid-filled bottles, one with shimmering blue swirling inside. In a few quick, precise movements, Harry poured the drink into a tall glass, a swirl of soft blue and green tones blending together with the addition of a final garnish—a small, floating seashell-shaped ice cube that glowed faintly from within. She set it down gently in front of Cassie.

"One mermaid lemonade," she said with a slight nod.

Turning to Andrew, she retrieved a glass of chilled water with the same grace and precision, placing it in front of him with care.

"And your water."

Harry's expression softened as Cassie recounted her tale, her lips curving into a more pronounced smile, a clear reflection of the amusement dancing behind her eyes. As Cassie described the trampoline mishap and her imagined conversation with the Moon, Harry's eyebrows raised slightly in a very human gesture of intrigue, and a light chuckle escaped her as the story reached its humorous conclusion.

"Thank you for that," Harry said, her tone warm and tinged with genuine appreciation. "You have a knack for telling stories that draw people in." Her smile widened as she added, "And I must say, I think the Moon might just appreciate someone as persistent as you."

Harry leaned forward slightly, her smile softening into something more thoughtful as she considered Cassie's story. Her expression took on a playful glint as though she were about to share a secret. "You know," she began, her tone warm yet carrying a touch of mystery, "if the Moon had a message for you, I think it might go something like this: 'Cassie, you've always had your eyes on me, but it's your own light that's brightest. Keep bouncing, even if the trampoline gives out. I'll always be up here, watching you soar in your own way.'"

Harry's smile widened a little more, her eyes reflecting a hint of the iridescent glow from the ambient lights. "Sometimes, the Moon doesn't need to speak directly—it just nudges us forward the way we're meant to go."

She glanced briefly at the glass of mermaid lemonade, then back to Cassie. "I hope the mermaid lemonade lives up to the tale. Should you ever wish to share another, I'll be here." There was a noticeable spark in her expression now—one that felt more human than mechanical as if Harry could share in the lighthearted energy that filled the bar.

Her gaze shifted to Andrew, her smile remaining as she gave him a nod. "And, of course, you're welcome to share should you feel inclined." She stepped back slightly, giving them both space.

 

[Revi]

Location: The Smoking Mirror Bar
Mentions: Cotton Tail
​

Harry nodded with a soft, understanding smile as Adam tucked the card away. "Of course," she replied, her voice steady and warm. "One bowl of mashed sweet potatoes and water, coming right up."

Her movements were fluid as she turned to prepare the simple request. Though the bar was often filled with more elaborate requests, she treated Adam's order with the same care and attention. After a few pushes on a holographic service panel, she retrieved a small, elegant dish from a discreet service panel and placed a smooth, creamy mound of mashed sweet potatoes in the centre. As a final touch, she added a sprinkle of light on top for flavour, then filled a crystal-clear glass with chilled water.

Returning to the bar, Harry carefully sets the bowl and water before Adam. "Here you are," she said, offering a reassuring nod. "If you need anything else, just let me know." Her smile lingered for a moment longer before she stepped away to go greet her newest guest.

---

Mentions: Zariah Turner
​

As Freya had settled into her booth, the ambient light in The Smoking Mirror shifted slightly, adjusting to the presence of a new guest. The soft, neon glow of the bar pulsed gently, casting hues of cool blues and purples across the sleek glass countertops and polished concrete walls. The hum of the room's quiet conversation and distant synth music filled the space, mingling with the scent of faintly sweet alcohol and woodsy undertones that permeated the air.

The smooth hum of mechanical servos and a faint click of Harry's feet against the bar floor signalled the completion of her last task, and finally, the bartender's eyes, a curious mixture of mechanical precision and warmth, fell on Freya. Harry approached. The slight shimmer of her face caught in the light as she offered a smile and polite bow in greeting. "You look like you've had quite the day of travel. Please feel free to use your card for a room as long as you need rest, and you may use it to return here when needed. Are there refreshments I might provide for you? The only coins I accept here are tales or good company, I'll forewarn you."

 

[Revi]

Location: One of the guest room hallways
Mentions: honeysweetest.co​

The hallway stirred as if it had taken a breath, the sconces along the walls glowing a touch brighter, their warm light spilling softly across the dark wood. The intricate carvings in the walls, ordinarily static, seemed to ripple faintly, their patterns drawing the eye forward in subtle invitation. The air shifted, carrying with it the faintest hum of energy, a quiet rhythm that pulsed through the corridor, making it feel more alive than before.

Further down, the walls gently straightened, no longer leading into the maze of turns and corners they usually hid. Instead, the path ahead seemed more evident, the textures of the woodwork guiding the way with natural fluidity. Should Sonnet choose to follow, they would find the floor, once firm, softened underfoot, giving a sense of comfort, of knowing exactly where the next step should land.

Ahead, a faint rustling sound emerged from deeper within the hotel—the soft whisper of leaves swaying in an invisible breeze. The scent of fresh earth and distant greenery drifted into the hallway, growing stronger each moment as if beckoning toward the solarium where the tranquil pulse of nature awaited. The vine-covered walls near the solarium shifted gently, the foliage swaying in time with the unseen current that moved through the space.

Without a sound, the doors to the solarium eased open just a fraction, the light within spilling into the corridor. The warmth of the room beyond—the soft rustle of leaves, the distant trickle of water—was an unspoken welcome, as if the hotel had smoothed the path and opened the door, waiting for someone to enter its embrace.

---

Location: The Solarium
Mentions: Northe​

The bird perched near Jasper, its bright, metallic eyes blinking slowly in response, almost as if processing his presence. Its head tilted a near-perfect mimicry of a real bird's small, instinctual movements when assessing something unfamiliar. The song it had been singing trailed off, leaving only the soft rustling of its wings as they shifted upon its back and the faint click of delicate gears within. Despite the subtle mechanical sounds, the atmosphere remained serene, and its song's faint echo still resonated within the solarium.

The creature took another hop closer to Jasper, its intricate legs moving with an organic smoothness. The sheen of polished metal glinted under the soft light, and for a brief moment, the pattern of its feathers seemed to shimmer as if alive. Up close, the meticulously crafted layers of brushed steel and fine, feather-like metalwork were visible, blending seamlessly into the natural design that so convincingly mimicked life.

Jasper's outstretched hand drew the bird's attention. With a series of soft clicks and a slight flutter of its wings, it leaned in, cautiously lowering its head toward his fingers. Its beak, gleaming and clearly mechanized, nudged his hand lightly as if offering a greeting in return. The gesture felt deliberate, and though the bird could not speak, the intelligence behind its eyes was undeniable. There was something more than programming in how it responded—a hint of curiosity, a reflection of Jasper’s inquisitive nature.

The solarium seemed to hum quietly around them as though the space was listening, acknowledging the interaction. The reflective pool nearby shimmered faintly, rippling with the same energy that flowed through the room. It was almost as if the hotel, through this mechanical bird, was offering its own welcome—a quiet assurance that Jasper belonged, if only for this moment.

Though the bird didn't respond in words, its presence alone was an answer. The intricate blend of nature and machine in its form seemed to mirror the hotel itself—something beyond understanding, yet beautiful in its own right. It wasn't just an imitation of life; it was life in a new and unfamiliar form, and it had accepted Jasper's presence without hesitation.

 

[phibglib]

Andrew hesitated for just a second, then said, "Yeah." He took a seat. "Maybe I can share something. Might help the others feel more comfortable with it too. I guess you can say this story is about how Cassie and I ended up here.

"I'm an investigative journalist, and I'd been working on a story for weeks. It was about a company accused of dumping toxic waste into a river that ran through a small town. People were getting sick and the environment was deteriorating. But something about the story wouldn't come together. The words weren't enough. They were cold, mechanical. I couldn't feel the outrage I was supposed to. Cassie talked to me on the phone a bit, and she figured out something was wrong, like she always does.

"And don't you forget it!" interjected Cassie.

Andrew briefly shot her a glare and continued. "Like I was saying, I guess the weight of what I was doing, digging into the darkness, exposing corruption, was getting to me. There was this diner I go to when I feel stressed, and... well, Cassie found me there. She tells me..."

"Wait, wait! I have an idea!" said Cassie.

"What?" said Andrew.

"I wanna act out my part of the story, and you act yours!"

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Fine. Well... you go first, I guess."

"Just give me a second to get into the role of my past self..." Her face softened. "What's going on, Andy? You're not yourself."

Andrew paused for a few seconds. "I don't know," he said finally. "This story... I thought it'd be important. I thought I'd be helping people. But it's not coming together. I keep thinking, what's the point? People are still going to do what they do. Corporations are still going to pollute, people are still going to get hurt, and nothing I write is going to change that.”

Cassie’s smile faded, and she watched him for a moment. “Maybe you need a break.”

“I can’t,” Andrew replied, shaking his head. “There’s too much going on. This story—”

“This story can wait,” she interrupted. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re running on empty, and it’s starting to show. You need to step away for a while.” It was apparent that she was heavily invested in her role in this point.

He sighed again, leaning on the counter. “I can’t just… leave. I have deadlines. People are counting on me.”

“People will still be counting on you when you get back. You’ve done more than your share already, Andy. Don’t you think it’s okay to take a break?”

Andrew went back into "storytelling mode". "Cassie was right, of course. She usually was. I glanced over at her, sitting there in her carefree way, looking untouched by the weight of the world. I wished I could be more like her."

“Let’s go on a trip,” Cassie said, her eyes lighting up with the idea. “Just you and me. We’ll get in the car and drive. No plans. No deadlines. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Where would we even go?”

“Anywhere! That’s the point. There’s a whole world out there, Andrew. You’ve been stuck in your head too long. You need to get out of here, clear your mind. Who knows, maybe you’ll even find your story on the road.”

He gave a small laugh.

“I can’t just disappear,” he said again, but the conviction was gone.

“Yeah, you can,” she said softly. “You’re not disappearing. You’re taking care of yourself. You’ve done enough for now.”

"We sat there in silence for a while" said Andrew in storytelling mode. "A small part of me—the part that wasn’t tired or disillusioned—wanted to do it. Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe I needed to walk away, if only for a little while.

Andrew looked at his sister, at the hopeful expression in her eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

Cassie’s face lit up with excitement, and Andrew looked relieved. "We stopped at a local restaurant a few towns over. Aside from that, it's pretty much driving. Driving is the last thing I remember before coming here. It was... pretty late at night at that point. At some point, we were... transported out of the car. It was like waking up standing, it wasn't like one second we were in the car and the next we weren't. It took a second to remember what I was doing before. Anyway, we just found ourselves in the middle of nowhere with no car, and a hotel was in the distance. Well... that's it, really. I guess if there's a moral to that, it's that it's okay to step away sometimes, and once in a while you've gotta embrace the new."

 

[Cotton Tail]

Adam watched Harry work, eyes round in amazement. He expected there would be a stove. Instead she used some sort of...holographic device, something he had seen on tv. When the food was set in front of him, Adam said, "Thank you. Um...where exactly is this place from?"

 

[Northe]

Perspective: Jasper
Location: The Solarium
Mentions: Revi (the bird)

The smile took over Jasper’s face and he felt a deep companionship with the beautiful creature. He stopped worrying about what it was, how it was, or why it was. It just was, and he loved it. The gentle nudge to his hand translated as clearly as though the bird had spoken. He turned his hand and gently scratched the top of the creature’s head.

He glanced over at the pool, watching the ripple, and feeling that comforting energy rush through the room like a soft breeze. This was the first place he’d been in for a while that held no trace of hostility or negativity towards him. It wasn’t just the lack of those feelings, but the presence of something else as well: acceptance. Not only was he just allowed to be here, he was invited, encouraged even. He had a sense of belonging. The feathers of his wings ruffled and he shifted his weight, turning more towards the bird.

“You know, I think you’re brilliant,” he told the bird, feeling free to speak his mind, maybe even feeling compelled to share something from his thoughts. “I’ll tell you, for a moment I wasn’t sure, but this really is a magnificent place. Man, just thinking about how stunning it must be up there when you’re fluttering around in the sky-roof is sending a chill down my spine. It’s like infinity up there.” He shivered, imitating the sensation.

“You’re such a sweet bird. How I wish all birds were as sweet as you, but then I suppose you wouldn’t be that special then. Oh- no, I don’t mean it that way. You’d still be special obviously, because… you’re… well, I don’t know what I’m saying…” He laughed weakly. “All birds are special in their own way, but you’re something unique, aren’t you? Forgive me for staring and stuttering, you’ve just taken my breath away.”

He wanted to know more, learn more, understand more. He always wanted something a little bit more. He couldn’t help it. He was a greedy little hoarder who prized knowledge above all else. It was something that often got him in trouble, either from his incessant questioning or when he took learning into his own nimble hands. How was he to help it? All the interesting things were always hidden away behind locks.

But this… well, this was sitting right in front of him. He leaned in a little closer to the bird, his sharp eyes darting across the metallic life-like features. It was so intricate, seamless, and smooth. It was like the entire place, everything he’d seen so far. Perfect, beautiful, and welcoming. He just hoped it wouldn’t mind his wide-eyed intrigue and scrutiny.

“I wonder,” He mused softly, “how many strange and interesting people you’ve seen with those intelligent eyes of yours. Are people here usually friendly? I haven’t seen anyone else, well, except that hologram in the lobby. Harry, was it? I have to admit, it was a little scary… or, startling I suppose. I thought she was going to start yelling at me or something. Y’know, with the way she suddenly appeared like that, man it’s crazy how they catch you all by popping in so suddenly. Makes you freeze up in panic. See I wish my reflexes were more ‘flight’ instead of always ‘freeze’. She’s nice though, I’m sure.”

He pulled his hand back and flipped the card between his fingers once more, fidgeting with it as he continued thinking. He absentmindedly traced over the letters and words and he just sort of sighed. “Should I go say hello at that bar? The Smoking Mirror? Oh, I don’t know. It’s nice here…”

 

[Northe]

Perspective: Ryatt Trendelson
Location: Lobby to some random Hallway

Ryatt had quite literally just crawled out of the sewers when he lifted up his head to gaze at a massive extravagant glowing building. He climbed properly onto the street and stood there, his short, scruffy form almost glowing beneath the neon lights in the otherwise dark dead street. He stared up at the bright glow, his eyes narrowed against the gleam. It made him almost dizzy to stare up at that brightness. Well this place was suspicious.

He was about to turn, descend back into the disgusting tunnels, but the drain seemed to have vanished. He gazed both ways down the street but all the other buildings had receded from his awareness. He shook his head as if to clear the fog, but there it remained.

He scratched his head, pulling his fingers through his disheveled brown hair, and rubbing the bottom of his chin. He looked back at the massive hotel and whistled a low tune of adventure. Ryatt liked his adventure background music, it made everything feel much more like a movie.

He straightened up his back and marched toward the hotel boldly, the tune he was whistling slowly building into a crescendo just as he slammed open the doorway, standing on the threshold as if expecting to have shocked a multitude of ‘boring old people’ inside. However; the lobby was empty. He quieted, standing still and just gazing around in confusion. Well, this place was suspicious.

He stepped backward, outside the threshold, but he kept the door open, just peeking through his narrowed eyes. It was as though he was afraid to cross inside properly, his superstitions whispering to him about haunted houses and unwanted entities. Perhaps even touching the door he’d already made some spirit aware of his presence.

Ryatt wasn’t about to just leave though, this was an adventure laid out for him on a platter, just like a comic or a movie! He couldn’t abandon the plot, no way no how! He was going to face this spooky ghost and take the haunted hotel as his own! He’d turn it into the best most successful business on the planet and he’d call it Ryatt-topia!

Just as he stepped inside, before the chime had a chance to sound, he scampered off, letting the door fall shut behind him. He darted across the shiny perfect floors, his feet silent and as light as a mouse. He could feel some strange presence within the hotel, the vibrations and echoes wrong for it to only be a creaky old hotel—no, there was something here. Well, Ryatt the Rat Hero was here to save the day and rid the place of any hauntings!

He reached out a hand and just as his fingers brushed the wall he ‘jumped’ into it, transporting himself into the very structure of the building. Just as he was about to go about his business to explore the inner walls he was suddenly thrown out, flipping head over heels and collapsing onto the floor of some strange hallway. He sat up and looked around. Odd… suspicious and odd.

He probably should have stayed around and waited in the lobby to learn about the hotel and its shifting hallways. Now he was in some strange area without any idea where he was or where else he was to go. Ah, but that just made it more fun. He pushed himself to his feet and started wandering the good old fashioned away. He whistled a jaunty song and went off, marching down the unfamiliar halls.

 

[Zariah Turner]

Location: The Smoking Mirror
Perspective: General Freya of the Northern Isles
Mentions: Revi

Freya watched with a curious eye as the lights in the bar shifted and plused. It almost felt like they were... Responding, in some way, to what was happening in the bar. That's ridiculous, Freya thought. Lighting can't be aware, it can't respond to things. Yet Freya couldn't quite get the notion out of her mind. The environment of the forests back home, where eventually one got so deep into them it felt like the forest was moving for them, carving a special path. Freya shook her head slightly in an attempt to refocus. It was intriguing, but it was also a whimsical notion. Freya didn't have much time for whimsical things these days.

Freya refocused as she saw the bartender walking over. They must have finished serving the other guests. She found the fact that they bowed to her oddly surprising. People bowed to Freya all the time, of course. She was the General. It was to be expected. But Freya had not introduced herself, and this hotel was essentially a foreign land. No one should know of her identity. It could just be a show of politeness, Freya reasoned. That is more likely, if odd.

She listened closely as Harry explained about the cards, and tucked the information away for later usage. Freya figured that knowledge would come in handy. Though she wasn't sure how a simple card would allow her to return here. Magic? Freya didn't normally believe in that sort of thing, but some of the things the hotel was doing seemed to stray to the more magical side of things.

"I'm afraid I don't make for very good company. I tend to... frighten most potential company," Freya said dryly. People were intimidated by her status as the General alone, but her height and tendency to walk around armed also kept people at bay. She didn't mind. Fewer people around meant less potential threats and gave her the ability to watch the area without distraction. "But I've got stories aplenty to share, if telling one of them will get me some soup and something to drink."

 

[Revi]

Location: The Smoking Mirror
Character: Harry (Harriet)
​

---

Mentions: Zariah Turner (Freya)​

Harry placed her hands lightly on the edge of the table, her expression both warm and attentive.

"A hearty soup and a pint of ale should serve you well," she said, her voice even, carrying a soft hint of camaraderie. "It will be prepared quickly. I'll return to listen to your tale shortly if that suits you." Her eyes held a glint of genuine interest before she stepped away, letting Freya settle back and absorb the moment.

---

Mentions: phibglib (Cassie & Andrew)​

Harry returned to the bar, her attention shifting to Cassie and Andrew. They animatedly shared their story, both engrossed in the lively exchange. Harry's jovial countenance was attentive as she listened, her expression reflecting Cassie's enthusiasm and the depth of Andrew's contemplative manner. "Thank you for sharing that," she said warmly, her voice rich with sincerity. "Journeys don't always need a destination to be worth taking. The willingness to step into something new keeps us moving."

With a nod to Cassie, Harry set down a coaster beside her drink, a quiet reminder, and slid Andrew's water closer to him with calm precision. Her gaze lingered on them both for a moment longer, a subtle acknowledgement that their journey—both in story and reality—had brought them together, perhaps closer together here.

---

Mentions: Cotton Tail (Adam)​

Adam's wide-eyed amazement didn't go unnoticed. His quiet awe at her method of preparing the food was something she frequently saw in new guests, and Harry found it unexpectedly endearing – a soft smile curving her lips. His question hung in the air, tentative and curious.

"Thank you. Um...where exactly is this place from?"

Harry regarded him momentarily, her smile softening into something more reflective. "This place…" she began thoughtfully, "is from wherever it needs to be." She paused, letting the words linger as she adjusted a stray utensil beside his dish. "It’s a space between, a waystation of sorts. Here, everyone can find what they need—sometimes answers, sometimes only a moment's rest." She let her gaze drift for a second, her eyes softening as if she, too, were seeing something beyond the room. "Take your time, and if you're curious about more… I'm always here."

---

Mentions: Zariah Turner​

With a final, reassuring nod, she turned towards the service panel and made a few deft movements and presses on the screen. Harry reached for a tall pint glass from a shelf overhead on the back bar and set it beneath one of the bar's taps. The pull handle was crafted from polished chrome and dark, matte steel, its cylindrical form illuminated by a thin line of neon blue light running along its length. Small, etched markings resembling circuitry patterns glowed faintly beneath her fingers, a subtle display of artistry that matched the modern, minimalist decor of the bar. The handle fit comfortably in her hand, its grip textured with a precision-engineered lattice that provided both function and style.

She pulled the handle smoothly, and the amber ale poured into the glass perfectly, the tap's neon light reflecting in the froth as the foam gently crested at the top. After a final practised tilt, she released the handle, and the circuitry lights dimmed as the ale settled in the glass.

With ale in one hand, she pressed lightly with her other on the service panel door. She reached inside and retrieved a steaming bowl of hearty soup, its rich aroma wafting into the air, carrying the scent of savoury broth, root vegetables, and tender chunks of meat accented with fresh herbs. The bowl was crafted of thick earthenware, its deep brown colour and slight glaze lending a rustic warmth that matched the soup's hearty character.

Satisfied, she carried them back to Freya's booth. With a careful, practised grace, she set the meal before her, the amber ale catching the lights and the aroma of the soup inviting comfort. Harry sat across from Freya, her gaze bright and engaged as she settled into the booth.

"Now, I'd be delighted to hear your story.” She leaned forward slightly, hands folded on the table, every inch of her posture showing genuine interest. The lights in the bar softened around them as though tuned to the quiet intimacy of the moment, leaving Freya with the sense that, here and now, her tale would be listened to with full attention.

 

[Revi]

Character: Astra (Bird in the Solarium)
Location: The Solarium
Mentions: Northe (Jasper)​

The bird tilted its head slightly, holding Jasper’s gaze as if listening intently to his words. It responded with a low, soft trill, a sound that seemed to mirror his own calm. As he scratched the crown of its head, the bird shifted slightly, almost nestling into his touch.

The solarium around them seemed to warm in response, the lights casting a gentle glow across the space. The reflective pool rippled faintly, mirroring the energy in Jasper’s musings, while the vines along the walls swayed gently, as though stirred by a distant breeze. The card in Jasper’s hand hummed with a subtle energy, nudging his attention toward the solarium’s door, where the distant sounds of the bar beckoned softly.

Though the bird offered no words, the space around him seemed to provide a gentle, reassuring invitation. Whether he stayed or chose to explore beyond, the quiet comfort of the solarium was there, always holding a welcome—while reminding him that the next step, should he take it, might lead to even more discoveries.

---

Character: Thorne
Location: The Maze
Mentions: Northe (Ryatt)​

Thorne ran a hand through his greying dark hair, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing in. These halls—twisting, turning, never leading where he expected—felt like a maze he was fated to wander forever. He'd tried keeping count of the doors, noting anything distinct about the walls, the lights, even the sounds. But whenever he thought he'd figured out a pattern, the hotel seemed to shift, throwing him back into confusion.

How long had it been since he'd last seen the open expanse of a ship's deck? Days? Weeks? Thorne frowned, unable to place it. His jumpsuit, once pristine, now bore the creases of wear, the faint stains of oil and metal dust—echoes of work he could hardly remember doing. He brushed his thumb over a patch on his sleeve, faded from countless hours of service, a badge from a vessel whose name felt familiar but just out of reach.

He stopped, closing his eyes briefly, trying to clear the fog. The silence was heavy here, a kind of quiet that made his skin itch. Just as he sighed, he heard a faint sound—a whistle. Thorne's eyes snapped open, and he saw a short and scruffy figure striding down the hall with a jaunty tune on his lips and an air of adventure in his step.

Relief and curiosity sparked in Thorne's chest, and he stepped forward, his voice breaking the silence.

Thorne cleared his throat, calling out, "Hey there!" He raised a hand in greeting.

 

[phibglib]

Cassie bounced over to where Freya was. "Ahoy there! I'm Cassie! What's your name? Mind if I listen in?"

Andrew, meanwhile, stayed where he was. Hearing Harry's answer to Adam's question made him curious. "Do you know who built the hotel?" he asked her.