welcome to the hotel dreamwidthfornia

[capemods]

WHO: EVERYONE. Yes, even you.
WHERE: Stark Tower
WHEN: 2/1/12!
WARNINGS: the worst crowd control since Tickle Me Elmo was released.
SUMMARY: IMPORTS BUMRUSH THE PORTER BUILDING ONLY TO FIND IT'S BECOME THE DMV
FORMAT: WORDS

[When your character arrives at Stark Tower, they will most likely find a.) a metric ton of other Imports there and b.) the same machine in the Porter room that spat out their dog tags at them, waiting for them to approach. Lachesis will give them their new personalized communicators after requesting that they STATE YOUR NAME, HERO, but there might be the occasional insult! Possibly vuvuzela sounds. There is also particularly insipid elevator music playing in the background constantly, like so.

NOW MINGLE.]

Comments

[incywincyhero]

[Peter blinks at him from over his travel mug.]

Yeah? Sorry, do I know you?

[backatthehotel]

[Eyeing that mug jealously.]

Give you a twenty if you can go an' get me a six pack, mate. Even hold your place.

[incywincyhero]

[He is just too tired for this.]

I don't even know you.

[backatthehotel]

And?

I want a fucking drink.

I need a better /deadeyes icon

[incywincyhero]

And to think I almost considered doing a good deed for the day just now.

[Jerk.]

I'll trade you my entirely too many...

[backatthehotel]

[Oh for -- seriously? Seriously?]

All I want is a beer, mate. Didn't think that needed my life story.

[sticks out his hand, and proves that it is, in fact, possible to offer a handshake sarcastically]

Pink Floyd. Floyd Pinkerton. Your choice.

[incywincyhero]

[Okay, that revelation is enough to derail Peter's annoyance, at least for a few moments.]

Wait, as in --

[He frowns again -- but bemused this time, not irritable.]

If I were back home I'd assume that's a made up name, but...

[backatthehotel]

[He's even too tired to be much pleased or irritated by the reaction.] Is made up. But not how you're thinking.

My band. Was.

[incywincyhero]

... Right.

[Blank stare. Peter's been one for popular music. At least not popular music from the decade he's actually living in.]

[backatthehotel]

'Right.' What, nothing? Thought you wanted to get all friendly.

[incywincyhero]

I thought you wanted a beer.

[backatthehotel]

Yeah. Neither of us really getting what we want, are we?

You got a name, mate, least you can do is give one back.

[incywincyhero]

Peter Parker. I'm not much of a music nerd, but I'm thinking you've figured that one out.

[backatthehotel]

Peter. Got anything against Pete?

[shrugs] No skin off anything of mine. I just want a drink.

Fuck, you got a thing against alcohol before noon, I'll pay you just as much for some coffee. [Desperation has officially set in.]

[incywincyhero]

[There's something strangely likeable about this guy's ... patheticness. Peter relents.]

All right, all right, fine. Can't say it's my usual sort of deal, but I could use the chance to stretch my legs anyway.

[backatthehotel]

Thank God. [That is... directed more at the ceiling than at Peter. He starts digging for his wallet.]

Thank you. Should have known better than to get up this early. No idea what I was thinking, just wanted this done...

[incywincyhero]

[His lips quirk -- if there's one easy way to bond with Peter Parker, it's over shared petty indignities.]

It's like she shut down the network this early in the day on purpose, or something.

[backatthehotel]

What I've heard, I'd believe it.

You been here long?

[incywincyhero]

Bit over a year, though days like today it feels like longer. You?

[backatthehotel]

Few months. November. Maybe? [Listen, keeping track of time is hard.]

You ever get used to it?

[incywincyhero]

There are days I barely even think about back home. Other times... [He shrugs. Then a pause.] Well, hopefully I'll be right back. [Warning finger.] You'd better still be here -- actually, at the rate this line is moving, you probably will be.

[backatthehotel]

[tired heh] Probably. Good luck.