C&C HOLIDAY JAMJAR ICE HOTEL HELL: PARTY

[bluffing-ruffle.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[hellcommander.livejournal.com]

Yeah, he really doesn't. Coffee pot for a head is strange enough.

Well, Trowa is pretty much bordering on the "hipster" side. But hey, none of that matters, because he DOES take his coffee black. Black as Hiruma's soul!

The blond snickers a bit and quirks a brow. "Is that so? Then mischief is surely afoot, kekekeke!"

[pacifisted.livejournal.com]

Suffice it to say that some of them have involved pale yellow bats in black cowls claiming to be 'the night' in squeaky, scratchy voices with all their teeth showing.

And as far as the 'hipster' bit goes, at least he doesn't play music and get his clothes from second-hand shops or want a peaceful Earth or anything weird like... uh. Hmm. :|a This is all very unintentional, you know. Really, it is. Honest.

Besides, Hiruma can't fool him. Coffee is more of a dark brown color. It's as close as one can get to black without actually making the hop.

"Mhm," he mutters, which is really more of a non-committal noise than a true mutter, but dicing semantics is for Edgeworth tags, not Trowa ones. He follows it up with a "You should feel at home, then" that is hovering in that above-it-all middle ground that not only refuses to tell whether the comment is a simple truth or approaching playfulness, but also fails to address whether or not some of this tag is just silly padding for personal amusement's sake.

[hellcommander.livejournal.com]

Hey. Hey. Hiruma is a way better BATman than any of the so called "real" ones running around this town. Harumph.

The main thing is, he doesn't listen to bands that don't exist yet. Until that happens, he's good.

Ok. Dark dark dark brown as his soul.

"Should I! Oh, Trowa! What kind of man do you take me for? I'm offended. Really, I am," he just grins up a storm, "Look at how offended I am."

[pacifisted.livejournal.com]

That's true. He has got the benefit of not needing so much of a costume, doesn't he? Perhaps the real one ought to take lessons from him. And, no, no bands that don't exist yet. Unless you count some of the stuff he heard in his home world, but then, he doesn't listen to that so much as remember it. There's a loophole there, damn it.

Trowa eyes that grin with the same wary look he almost always gives the rows of sharp teeth and takes a step back just to be safe.

"Ah," he replies, a little less tensed up now that he's not within biting distance. "So you're not getting into any trouble? Edgeworth should like that."

[hellcommander.livejournal.com]

Costumes are for losers. Why have a cape when you can have real wings? And shut up, man from the future, you don't even kind of count.

Hiruma just cackles at the space Trowa gives him. Really, a big tough solider like him, afraid of a few rows of sharp teeth? So unbecoming.

"I don't plan on it, really. I'd prefer not to be ruffled or frozen by our dear friend Bluffles. Besides, I can't outprank Sirius, and I'm sure he has something planned."

[pacifisted.livejournal.com]

Trowa wouldn't have had a problem putting Hiruma out of commission for the evening if he'd suddenly attacked without warning, present status or not. It was more a case of not wanting to have to. Such a thing probably wouldn't earn him any points in Hiruma's favor, after all.

He looks somewhere off to the left--or at least, makes it seem like he does, although he is still watching from the corners of his eyes, through his bangs--and nods.

"It's best that way," he muses, slowly. "That he doesn't ruffle you."

Trowa manages to keep the incoming smirk out of his expression.

"Your bat fur is fluffy enough right now as it is. Curly hair would make it worse."

[hellcommander.livejournal.com]

Well, luckily for Trowa, Hiruma doesn't bite randomly. His bites are usually reserved for more... intimate situations than these. Or for fights. Of which this was most certainly not.

"Tch, can you even imagine? I'd look like one of those fuckin' cats with the curly hair. It'd be fucking AWFUL," Hiruma huffs, "Not to mention that Bluffles could use his powers for far more sinister things than that."