hotelmultiverse | YOU'VE JUST CROSSED OVER INTO -

Entry tags:

YOU'VE JUST CROSSED OVER INTO -

HAPPY HALLOWEEN
from
HOTEL MULTIVERSE AT THE EDGE OF THE COSMOS BETWEEN CANONS™

Guests who find themselves partaking in the Hotel's amenities quickly find some tricks afoot. The decor is first, neon lights changing to autumnal oranges, garish greens, and ghoulish purples overnight. Those who peruse the shops will find them stocked with masks and costumes, and the ambient music which plays throughout the ship is punctured by blood-curdling sound effects such as screams and anxiety-inducing musical stingers. This is Halloween.

Those who utilize the Hotel-provided devices will find an ad splashed across their screens. Similarly, TVs, phones connected to the network, and flyers posted will read:

"FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF OUR GUESTS, HOTEL MULTIVERSE AT THE EDGE OF THE COSMOS BETWEEN CANONS™ IS HAPPY TO PROVIDE HALLOWEEN-THEMED ENTERTAINMENT."

Staff members' uniforms change, with employees adding costume pieces to them as the weeks wear on. Guests are strongly encouraged to put together a costume with pieces from the shops, but those who opt out will instead find one of the standard options (listed at the bottom of this post) and chosen at random (by googling "rng 1-19") in their wardrobe.

After dark (or, what would be dark), the ship transforms into a hotel of horrors, the following chaos breaking loose:

TRICK-OR-TREATING
Costumed guests are welcome to partake in trick-or-treating with the ship's staff, who can be found with carts of candy in common areas. Guests are also offered flags for their doorknobs to indicate that they have candy available in the rooms if they would like to partake as well.

SCAREZONES
Grab a map from the concierge or walk the halls at random, but don't be surprised if a staff member jumps at you from the shadows!

HAUNTED HOUSE
Guests using the hotel app will find numerous ads alerting them to a haunted house that's overtaken one of the hotel floors (and honestly, the ads are impressive, opening as an emergency alert to a runaway alien), and the hotel itself plasters the attraction across its screens and walls overnight as well. Obviously, a haunted house is a great thing to do after you've had a ton to drink, or a great way to meet fellow guests (whether or not you're reaching for their hand in fright). However, to ensure the safety of all team members and guests, do not make physical contact with any member of our cast. Remember: the actors' intention is to frighten you.

HORROR MOVIE MARATHON
Guests hoping to keep things a bit more low key might find what they're looking for in the hotel's movie theater and lounges, which offer 24/7 horror movie marathons ranging from the classic to the avant garde. A programming guide can be found outside of each respective screening or on the app. Film buffs will be delighted at the hotel's library, but don't be surprised if your niche fave is banished to a graveyard slot.

MASQUERADE
The hotel's ballrooms are open late for those guests interested in keeping the revelry going night after night. Just don't let the anonymity of your costumes take you too terribly far (or, I mean, do what you want, everyone has a room, after all).

If you aren't able to purchase a costume or aren't feeling inspired, no problem! Our courteous staff have taken the liberty of providing you with a courtesy costume, free of charge, to allow you to participate in the event. You will receive one of the following at random:

01: Ghost
02: Alien
03: Devil
04: Superhero (Your Choice!)
05: Skeleton
06: Pumpkin
07: Zombie
08: Vampire
09: Clown
10: Mummy
11: Werewolf
12: Black Cat
13: Pirate
14: Frankenstein's Monster
15: Witch
16: Spider
17: Bunny
18: Bat
19: Angel

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Arid turns just enough to give him the little headtilt that says he's being weird again. Perhaps it's normal for a human not to own a personal droid, but it's interesting that he sounds emphatically opposed to the idea, despite not seeming hostile towards her. She doesn't ask, though. Not yet.

"Logical." She's fine with being acknowledged as intimidating. There's a little hint of a satisfied undertone to her voice. "I am a state-of-the-art war machine. I am unfamiliar with civilian enforcement models, but their operational restrictions are significantly different." She wonders what they're like, though. What rules they're bound to follow...

Ah. She's prepared a story for this question. It's even basically true. "I am attempting to locate any service droids aboard this vessel. They may be able to assist me in locating any members of my unit who have visited previously. However, I have encountered very few so far."

"Yeah, yeah..." Military grade tech, probably able to shoot a goddamn plane out of the sky or something straight out of a Terminator movie. Hank's privately glad that militarization of the police has gone down a hell of a lot since droids came into the picture. Helped bridge a safety gap without every department having their own goddamn strike team or whatever.

It's what you get with a generation raised on video games, he supposes.

"Well, I'd introduce you to the prototype they saddled me with..." But a vague gesture says it hasn't followed him out This far. Hank is baggage free while he's out here. "But this ain't exactly Detroit. And he's sure as hell not coming all the way out here."

"A prototype?" That does sound interesting. A pity it isn't with him, although Arid should know to be wary around unusual droids. She still has some of those scars. Hank definitely has her full attention again, whether he likes it or not.

"Is he... not useful?" Saddled with, he says. A potential opening for Arid to probe this strange human's perspective. It may not be the enforcement bot's fault, even if he is the kind of prototype with more than a few bugs left to work out. She's certainly not going to suggest to a human that he might be faulty. She knows too well the consequences of that label.

"He's a pain in my ass is what he is." Hank mutters, and yet there isn't really the same kind of heat in his words as there was when he said he'd never own a droid. It's definitely no affection--not yet. But it could be. He's lifted his voice from its usual gravelly tone to something lighter and more earnest in imitation of the droid sent by Cyberlife that let itself into his life.

"That's bad for you, do you know how many calories are in that?" Hank imitates before rolling his eyes and throwing back the rest of his shot all at once. He makes a louder noise of satisfaction once he's done swallowing.

"Yet who was it that stuck his fingers in fucking denaturing thirium then put them in his mouth like it was the most fuckin' natural thing in the world? Most advanced piece of tech on the market--dumb as a fuckin' rock. It's like walking around with an armed toddler, you know that?"

No, it's not affection. Irritation, frustration, but worry too. What would happen to Connor with Hank not there to keep the goddamned droid from getting into all manner of trouble? What would happen to him? He doesn't care--shouldn't care. He never asked to be saddled with the prototype and put on this fucking android case. But he has been and....

And Hank feels guilty for being here, instead of back in Detroit.

He feels a lot of things that hurt too much to examine, and so he drinks until they bleed away.

"Anyway, he's. More reliable than he looks, I guess." Comes Hanks begrudging acquiescence. Connor's not here to hear it, so with the drink loosening his tongue, Hank supposes no harm can come from admitting he doesn't loathe the damn thing.

Edited 2024-10-30 13:26 (UTC)

Arid listens, a little bemused, mostly analyzing the layers to what he's saying. Partly trying to shake the sense that his tone here is far too familiar.

"Some units can be... frustrating to cooperate with," she acknowledges, ignoring the sudden thought that she must have frustrated her first ally exactly like this. "Especially if their programming is too narrow to allow flexibility. As an advanced model, perhaps he will prove more adaptable."

If the other bot is lucky, he may even survive the experience.

"I will log your preference not to be notified of incipient health threats," she adds in a deadpan voice. Funny, how he complains as if he is the one who needs to look out for his droid's safety.

Arid may glimpse the hint of a smile that briefly flickers across Hank's aging face. He'd deny it if she told him he had. Deflect and say even a droid could tell how green Connor was.

But it's weird. For as much as he bitches and moans....Arid's not half bad. Connor may not be either if Hank gave him half a chance to try. But he doesn't have to see Arid day in and day out, either.

"Good. I'm perfectly capable of ending my own life, thank you very much." And just like before, his tone doesn't match what must be a particularly dark joke. "So. No luck tracking down any of your kin around I take it?"

That's a joke. It must be, logically. Arid isn't sure she understands it, but there's a lot she doesn't understand about human behavior. She seems momentarily puzzled by his referring to her 'kin' as well, before she just interprets it as referring to other droids.

"None." None she's going to rat on, anyhow. "Yet. I have been exploring the rear areas of similar establishments in case some are kept there to attend customers. So far, I have not found any. I may need to adjust my search parameters."

She pauses. "I also logged several stores which may be relevant to your previous search for clothing- if you still require it."

"That's so damn bizarre." Hank remarks with a shake of his head. "Feels like you can't spit without hitting half a dozen droids where I'm from, and given your design it must be much the same for you. But there's none here. I can't get over it."

He thought he'd feel more comfortable like this. For as long as Hank's told himself he can't stand droids, being in a place Without them feels...tense. Hank can't let his guard down, ever. Droids are easy to deal with by and large. People though? People are fucked to high hell.

"They've gotta be somewhere. That's all I can figure." And Hank's not sure he likes the idea of where they'd be hidden away.

"Affirmative. On a vessel this size, the complement of droids should outnumber the organic crew by a significant factor." She remembers tapping into the network of the ship Josephs first hid aboard; the sheer number of other consciousnesses linked to it... "Of course, most would be simple, non-sentient models."

Which doesn't disprove the lieutenant's point. Arid scans their surroundings once more, keeping well aware of the patrons who pass too close. The sound of tipsy chatter and clinking glasses has some... uneasy associations for her, even if she's ignoring it.

"'Robots are best unseen'..." It's a quiet realization, a lightbulb going off somewhere in there. "My approach has been faulty." She turns to look up at the flat display screen mounted behind one end of the bar; whatever it shows on other nights, right now it's cycling through advertisements for the various Halloween entertainments on board. The 'scare zones' in particular...

"Knew I couldn't be the only one who thought it was fucked." It doesn't occur to Hank that there simply are no androids to be found in such a place. It seems Modern in every other regard, so surely droids must exist.

And hell, Arid's here. So clearly some are. And there must be others. Even if Hank didn't want to get up this many drinks in, he can tell Arid's had a thought. If he lets her go, he might not get any closer to answers to what's bothering him, either.

"Alright." Hank grunts and shoves himself away from the bar. "Let's go do some investigating."

He means to accompany her? Arid's gaze snaps back to him, as if she's about to ask. But after a long moment of scrutiny - of the human police lieutenant in his incongruous soft dog onesie - Arid nods slowly, with a tip of her outsized cowboy hat.

"Understood," she says. "Follow me." She turns, and heads out of the bar, apparently with a clear destination in mind. She's not explaining yet, but she has reached the conclusion that maybe she can use a human ~~accomplice~~ decoy on this particular mission.

Outside, the 'street' is bustling with people of all shapes and sizes - all the more varied for the sometimes outlandish costumes they're wearing. Arid appears to take no heed as she cuts through them, unless you're looking close enough to spot how she surveys everyone around her. And how she's careful to stop and keep track of Hank should he drop behind at all. She's really not trying to lose him. On the contrary - she thinks his participation may be key, for her new strategy. Though if he's too slow she will stop and give him some additional scrutiny.

"Alright. Where to?" He's hoping Arid's going to give him SOME kind of information to go off of. Otherwise he'll be stuck tailing her and trying to sober up at the same time while they wind their ways past throngs of kids roaming round in groups.

Too many kids in a place like this, Hank thinks. He hopes their folks are nearby.

"The scare zones." She's busy leading the way, but she does pause to explain. Sort of. She expects him to fill in the blanks, or doesn't care if he fails to. "Service bots are expected to remain out of sight until needed. I was incorrect to seek them out directly. I should look for humans in distress."

She's slowly leading the way away from the commercial areas. Towards the more isolated corridors where staff members are wont to spook the guests - or be compelled to assist them.

Arid looks back at her human companion as they steer into a corridor away from the general public, into an area marked by plastic skulls and silly-string 'cobwebs'. "Try to appear disgruntled."

"You want me....t'pretend to be scared?" What the hell kind of plan is...actually it's not Bad and that only serves to annoy Hank further. He's starting to look more and more pissed as he glowers over his crossed arms and realizes he must look absolutely ridiculous in his big floppy dog suit.

"Fuckin' hell..."

"Irritation will be sufficient." She may be keeping that neutral, 'innocent' tone, but a suspicious mind might think she's sneakily amusing herself at his expense. Arid considers him for a moment before nodding. "That affect is appropriate. Please continue."

She's not just expecting him to do all the work of playing bait, though. Hence the direction she's leading them in. "We will seek out humans expressing excessive fear as an alternative. Any form of human distress or displeasure should compel a service bot to respond if it is in range."

Please continue. Yeah, she's fucking with him alright. But Hank knows how to make a scene when needs must. He's not above doing it either if it'll get them answers.

"Next time you get to play th'decoy." He grumbles from around his hunched sulk. But a second later he's sucking in a breath and nodding to himself.

"I don't fuckin' understand what the big deal is!" He turns and yells her way suddenly. Aggression, displeasure. He's better at faking that than he is fear or unease. And in his share of work Hank's dealt with more than he'd ever care to in unreasonable people. "This supposed to be an attraction or what?! Where's th'decor? Huh? My grandson's kindergarten class could have set this shit up better!"

He gets the satisfaction of startling her, at least judging by the jolt through her armored form. And he earns a slight nod once she's taken in his performance: she didn't expect him to play along this much, but he's very good at it. That ought to draw some attention, keep it up.

She deliberately led them down a hallway without any obvious crew, to minimize the chances that an organic would respond. Still, it might take a couple of tries - and one case of a startled Arid grabbing a would be jumpscare slasher by the arms - before their fishing expedition gets the correct bite. Sort of.

A door they pass slides open to allow a stubby, waist-high robot through. Arid lets out a low murmur of "Success!" as the unfamiliar model rolls out to scan Hank with a single glowing optic built into its rounded cap. It doesn't look at all humanoid, and when it pipes up to address the human it's in an incomprehensible series of beeps and trills. She hastily moves to interpose herself, leaning over the smaller bot. "Greetings. Please identify yourself and state your primary function."

In response, the smaller droid gives her a sharp whistle: whatever it says, Arid jerks back slightly. "Ex... cuse me??"

Well would you look at that!

It's...oh. It's the lovechild of a trash can and a roomba. Not exactly the height of technology Hank was expecting. Arid certainly thinks it's some kind of success even if Hank doesn't. He huffs in frustration and disappointment both while Arid turns her attention to it but he jumps when she recoils in her offense.

"What? Wasn't this the whole point?"

It may not be much to look at by Arid's standards either, but it does appear to be sentient enough to communicate what she wants to know. Scratch that- it's sentient enough to have some sharp things to 'say' about all the noise the human is making, much to her surprise. Aren't civilian droids meant to be nice to humans?

"What-?" She recalls too late that Hank is just by her shoulder, head snapping around to look at him. "Negative," she corrects, hastily trying to cool her tone. "I was not addressing you. The other unit is being... discourteous."

The stubby droid's optic turns between them with an electronic trill. Arid stares it down. Okay then, less manners, more bargaining.

"I cannot," she says simply, lowering her voice a little. "We require information first. Provide it, and he will cease causing a disturbance." Hank has been promoted from bait to threat, apparently?

"They can do that?" Hank leans over to get a better look but rocks back again at a warning zzzzzap of a charge between two prongs on the little vestigial-looking T Rex arm it's got coming out of its base. "Whaddaya fuckin' know. Learn something new every day."

Either way, Hank's only getting Arid's (verbal) side of the argument here but it's enough to know that whatever stink he's making it's having some intended effect.

"Ohhh I haven't even begun to cause a disturbance." He vows dangerously.

Edited ((Spelling is hard~)) 2024-11-09 17:49 (UTC)

"Ordinarily, they cannot. Not to humans." At least in any way more overt than clinging aggressively to their programming and being snippy about it. It's puzzling to her that this one seems different, and she gives it an even harder look at that little warning zap. As much as she wants to learn more about it - not just yet. It doesn't seem inclined to co-operate easily. Fortunately the lieutenant is quick to pick up on her tactic - and to run with it. Arid gives him a quick look before turning her gaze back on the other droid.

"He is inebriated, and irrational. He may continue endlessly," she warns it in that too-earnest-to-be-true tone she used on Hank earlier. The little droid looks from her, to the human's dour expression under his fuzzy dog ears, and gives a very grumpy sounding set of beeps. Arid nods.

"It will comply," she tells Hank, to assuage his impatience. Though whether she relays everything it answers is another matter. She needs to mask her real interest in what the other bot can tell her. "I need to locate the droids who service this vessel and its passengers. Are you one of them? Do you know where the others are?"

"Hey--I'm not that drunk. We left before I got through even half a bottle." Still playing along, and this at least is an argument he doesn't have to pretend much to have. Hank's well used to explaining his alcoholism to those who want to get preachy. "Still plenty of time to get Really going."

The tactic seems to do the trick. Hank relaxes from the insults he'd been preparing to throw. Instead he leans against the wall and watches Arid work quietly. He's smart enough to know Arid won't Have to verbalize to communicate with another droid, but he's also smart enough not to say anything. Better to glean what he can from observing, and then ask later if it's advantageous to prove a point.

Arid's newfound Frenemy gives a disgusted trill that winds down into a series of beeps and aggressive squeals. She can integrate with organic flesh all she wants but for others (including this unit) avoiding humans insomuch as is possible is vastly preferable. And in case her optical scanners are in need of repair, it's plain to see that the humans are getting by alright serving each other.

If Arid wants to find the inorganic life aboard the vessel, perhaps she should try looking in the quiet corners devoid of organic life. It's pretty sure there's a ventilation shaft that's been commandeered by some little floating scanner units and converted into a clubhouse, but as Arid is roughly the size of a space cruiser by comparison, she wouldn't be allowed in.

"Integrating...?" That sounds unpleasant. Now Arid's disgruntled. She switches to a nonverbal ping to try and communicate more directly without making her side of the conversation obvious. I am not integrated with any organic. Do you not serve one? Are you unshackled?

She's not going to betray the other bot, if so. Not that it seems concerned in the slightest given that sass. But she is going to request the location of that ventilation shaft - and quiz the stubby little droid on whether it's seen a human matching Josephs' appearance. ...Warn it to stay far away from him, if it can.

Her posture stays frozen, bent slightly to look the smaller droid in the optic, but there's a faint, rapid shimmer of shifting readouts behind her faceplate when it beeps and whistles back at her. Enough to suggest she's gotten rather more than the answer to the question she asked aloud by the time she straightens and says, "Understood."

Well now, this is interesting. Did the trashcan roomba just proposition Arid or tell her to go fuck herself? Impossible to tell but for the tone of voice Arid used to hint that this was an offensive term. Either way, it's amusing and unsettling in equal measure to find a droid so hostile toward others. Organic and non. Maybe it's also a security unit and its personality has been carefully selected by its owner.

Somehow, though. Hank doubts that. The door it came through wasn't big enough for a person to enter, and seems to be little more than a storage closet from the glimpse he got.

When Arid turns back he's watching her closely with his arms crossed casually over his chest. The stubby trashcan she'd been 'talking' to gives a final series of bleeps that Feel derisive before wheeling itself back out of sight and sealing the way behind it.

"That....is not what I was expecting." Hank admits.

"Nor I." Arid glances back at the hatch where the bot disappeared back into its alcove (compartment?). "That was not typical. Perhaps it is an older model."

Regardless... "It claims that I have made an incorrect assumption. This ship is not operated substantially by AIs. Its functions are carried out by the organic crew."

And there's the matter of those other bots it mentioned, but she doesn't see that as relevant information to just volunteer.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject