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capeandcowllogs2010-12-19 10:37 am
bluffing-ruffle.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-12-19 10:37 am
C&C HOLIDAY JAMJAR ICE HOTEL HELL: PARTY
WHO: AHAHAHAHA. Just... just tag yourselves in.
WHERE: The Gorsewick Hotel
WHEN: December 19th. 5PM-7PM for setup, 7PM onward for dinner.
WARNINGS: Let's just cover for your basics unless something more specific comes up.
SUMMARY: Miles Edgeworth and Remus Lupin are hosting the second comm-wide holiday party and have rented out the dining hall in the Gorsewick for the night. Everyone comes in for food, warmth, and (relatively... hopefully...) civil company. Whether or not they can leave is another story.
FORMAT: IF IT FEELS GOOD, DO IT! Long prose, action brackets, rapidfire dialogue, present tense, past tense--whatever floats your narrative boat!
The Gorsewick is not all that large a hotel, although it would very much like to grow up to be one someday, a mere five stories tall and having only a small parking garage to its name. The owner is clearly an optimistic sort of fellow, building a place like this in the City despite the risk the existence of imPorts poses to it and the hits the tourism industry has taken from their antics; bigger places than this have been smashed to pieces by enormous grey lizards with bad cases of heartburn.
Sadly, it just isn't paying off. At a time when people should be on vacation, packing his rooms to the max, the Gorsewick is... really, really empty. The groups renting out the dining hall are pretty much the only things keeping it afloat this month.
Still, appearances must be upheld, and although it is mildly understaffed, it is currently no less well-cared for. The handful of people on duty that night are friendly and the place is clean as a whistle--no bugs, no rats, no dust, nothing like that. He may be running a sinking ship, but the owner is damned determined to keep it a tidy one on the way down.
Come on in.
WHERE: The Gorsewick Hotel
WHEN: December 19th. 5PM-7PM for setup, 7PM onward for dinner.
WARNINGS: Let's just cover for your basics unless something more specific comes up.
SUMMARY: Miles Edgeworth and Remus Lupin are hosting the second comm-wide holiday party and have rented out the dining hall in the Gorsewick for the night. Everyone comes in for food, warmth, and (relatively... hopefully...) civil company. Whether or not they can leave is another story.
FORMAT: IF IT FEELS GOOD, DO IT! Long prose, action brackets, rapidfire dialogue, present tense, past tense--whatever floats your narrative boat!
The Gorsewick is not all that large a hotel, although it would very much like to grow up to be one someday, a mere five stories tall and having only a small parking garage to its name. The owner is clearly an optimistic sort of fellow, building a place like this in the City despite the risk the existence of imPorts poses to it and the hits the tourism industry has taken from their antics; bigger places than this have been smashed to pieces by enormous grey lizards with bad cases of heartburn.
Sadly, it just isn't paying off. At a time when people should be on vacation, packing his rooms to the max, the Gorsewick is... really, really empty. The groups renting out the dining hall are pretty much the only things keeping it afloat this month.
Still, appearances must be upheld, and although it is mildly understaffed, it is currently no less well-cared for. The handful of people on duty that night are friendly and the place is clean as a whistle--no bugs, no rats, no dust, nothing like that. He may be running a sinking ship, but the owner is damned determined to keep it a tidy one on the way down.
Come on in.
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He zeroed in on the kitchen and headed straight for it, chatting over his shoulder as he went. A year ago he had been new to the City and this holiday, but now he acted as though this were old hat. "As much as I wouldn't have minded the business, I have to say, I'm all right with someone else catering this bash. It's been a stressful week and I relished being able to spend yesterday baking cookies instead of preparing a five-course meal for hundreds."
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Edgeworth took it, carrying it in both hands as he followed Sanji.
"Asking you to do so once was more of a favor than I've yet managed to pay off," he said, wondering how exactly Sanji meant to prepare the tuna steaks. Ah, no--mind off the food. Plenty of time for that later. "Though hundreds is something of an exaggeration."
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He didn't care about having to share the kitchen space, he would deal, but he did sort of walk in like he owned the place and picked the choicest spot on the counter and the fridge to store and prepare his item. He took off his fine suitcoat and hung it on a cabinet handle, and then rolled up his sleeves, all ready to go. "Thanks for the hand. Oh - keep an eye out for my crewmate, he's around here somewhere. I don't want him getting in your way."
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Edgeworth was briefly distracted by a caterer who walked up to complain about something before telling the man to stop fussing about whether or not home-made pies looked right next to the ones their company had provided and go do his job.
"Ahem. Where were--ah. Yes, of course. Which one?" he asked, frowning. "The long-nosed buffoon?"
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