capeandcowllogs | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Beatrice strolls leisurely through the hallway, making sure to hold up the skirt of her (expensive) red gown so as to not step on it, looking fairly amused at all of the commotion and merrymaking among all of these new faces. But she was quickly growing bored---after all, her principle was to never be idle for too long. Nobody seemed all that interesting; in fact, most were very young. Unsurprising in her eyes---it was primarily the youth who got the most out of the holidays.

And then that's when she saw the white hair suddenly stick out in the middle of the crowd. She raises an eyebrow for a moment, dismissing it, only to do a double-take; at which point, her eyes suddenly widen. "Kinzo...?" She mutters to herself, slowly, but surely, making her way over to its source, a perplexed, fairly fearful look plastered on her normally-haughty features.

Blue may be able to detect and hear her frantic emotions and thoughts; the most prominent of which is, not again...!

Whatever motions Blue was going through moments before ceased the second he felt a mind focused on him. Falsely identified though he may have been, it didn't alter the tugging sensation of being detected.

He made no immediate move to return any gaze or physical regard, only his eyebrows knitting in a concerned fashion as he became more aware of the distressed swell of emotions directed at him. He was sure he never knew the woman at the source, yet...it could very well possibly be another case of his past-future self. Another "old" acquaintance he had yet to know. That notion unsettled him, giving a grim tone to his features until he became aware of it, forcibly diluting his expression to something mild.

When she had approached close enough for it to have been appropriate to acknowledge her, he did, turning his body partway with his gaze, eyebrows lifting in a blend of surprise and curiosity. Looking at her that way helped little; he had no recognition of her at all.

The moment he turns, she realizes that she was indeed mistaken. Save for the similarly-white hair, Blue's striking crimson eyes and fine features were telltale signs that he was not Ushiromiya Kinzo. There's relief, but there's also sadness.

And then there's his powerful aura and weird buzzing in her head. Wincing due to the latter, Beatrice lowers her eyes.

"Forgive my rudeness. I thought you were someone else." She says, quietly.

There was relief on his part as well - relief that any recognition she had was a true mistake. Though he would still be compelled to apologize for the mistaken identity, it was comforting to know that at least whatever person she had indeed been hoping to find wasn't truly him, present or future.

Blue's expression softened with his empathy, eyebrows knitting apologetically. "You've done no harm," he assured. "If I can help you find that someone...?"

It's not that she was hoping to find Kinzo---not exactly, anyway. But had Blue been Kinzo...Beatrice wouldn't be surprised that he had followed her here. And...well. She wouldn't know what she would have done, had that been the case.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, slowly. "Thank you." She replied. "But he's not here. It's better that he isn't."

Inhaling a bit, Beatrice turns back to Blue, and smiles, in a subdued fashion. She remembers how Matsuka recoiled at her usual aura---and Blue's aura is similar to his, for some odd reason.

"Well...changing the subject...are you enjoying things, so far?"

Blue neither wished nor intended to press the topic, and so as Beatrice redirected the conversation, he followed without protest, merely nodding his understanding as she dismissed his offer. As for things...Blue's gaze flickered elsewhere to regard those things.

"I've never been part of something like this," he said slowly, eventually looking back at her. "I think I like it, though. I've only just gotten here."

"No?" Beatrice quickly chuckles---but she caught that evasive glance. Still, whatever is bothering Blue is probably none of her business. For now, anyway. Nevertheless, he has her intrigued. Besides his similar aura to Matsuka's, she can sense he is as old as she is. And that he's powerful.

But whatever she's planning, she won't make it obvious. After all, a magician---or Witch, rather---never reveals the secrets of their art. Neither will she make reference to Matsuka right off the bat just yet.

"Do you not celebrate the holidays otherwise, then?" She inquires. "Well, in my opinion, it's quite charming, seeing everyone be so generous and alive. Everyone gets to be young again."

She chuckles some more, adding, "and yet, despite all the merrymaking...it's quite a time for reflection on what you've done thus far, and what more you can do---perhaps, how you can change, as well."

Her secrecy was as hers as it could be in the presence of a psychic; he only felt what thoughts and emotions wafted freely from her. Beads of a recognition that weren't entirely in his regard - curious, of course, but nothing he could actively pursue unless he pried or eventually spoke aloud about. And for the moment, there was enough dialogue already in the open to keep him busy.

Young again seemed a curious turn of phrase for someone who looked as she did, but a more attentive glance in her direction gave him pause to consider it. There was a much older quality to the metaphysical attributes of her that he could detect freely. Curious...

His expression flickered his broken train of thought for a moment, brought back by her quick addition of open thought. Change, huh...

"Yes," he agreed quietly, pushing a faint smile on his face. "I've come to understand that much. Many people refer to these days as a means of redemption or a change of course."

"'Resolutions,' as humans like to call it." Beatrice is choosing her words carefully. That buzzing sensation in her head is quite odd---is he reading her mind? Trying to? Was Matsuka doing the same when she had been speaking to him, only, not as strongly? Was that why he had recoiled initially in her presence? "While I agree that change is always a good thing, I find it dreadful that most don't really keep to these 'resolutions' they have in mind...they only say that they do, but words are never enough. Only action leads to results. Words are abstract. Easily twisted."

For the merest of seconds, her eyes carry a glint of cruelty in them as she speaks these words, but it quickly fades when she asks, "good sir, if you saw a child desperately in need of help and support, would you put in your utmost effort to do as obliged, even though it's clear they've been abused and manipulated into remaining loyal to their parent?"

'Master', she wants to say, but that would make things too obvious.

C&C HOLIDAY JAMJAR ICE HOTEL HELL: PARTY

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