The Way Inn, A get-together of different dimensions.

OK, so, I believe Thrice mentioned having an RP-Inn. Basic idea, you can control one guest (plus the added hangers-on, wives, children, et cetera,) or one staff member at any one time- eg one post, and no double-posting. The only other rule is that to switch characters, you have to place the character's name at the top of your post, and any of the posse associated with that character are under your control as side characters, and cannot be controlled by anyone else, although they can be interacted with.

Now for the setting...

Dear Visitor,
The Way Inn is an interdimensional commonplace where trade, tourism, et cetera can be bartered with between peoples of different dimensions. There are 10 staff members at any one time, and there can be up to 40 guests in the Inn.

In all the 35 floors of the hotel, for the entirety of the 40 years the Way Inn has stood, no one has ever been to the roof, which is said to be the domain of the Crafter, the one responsible for creating the Way Inn. Every Tuesday and Thursday, a cart filled with fresh fruits, vegitables, breads, and uncooked meats are sent on the elevator to the roof, and the cart is returned emptied with a small note with indecipherable runes etched onto it. Any who gaze upon these runes feels a wave of joy after seeing the note, but after the third person to gaze upon the note blinks, the note combusts into pink flame and is gone.

The Way Inn sits in the middle of a 3-way zone of land; there is a thick, humid jungle with a white-rapid river due South of the Inn, an ever-snowing forest with several prime skiing areas which faces North-East of the Inn, and a white, pristine beach with 3-6 ft waves, which faces the front of the Way Inn to the North-West. All the land is as far as the eye can see, but those who visit the Way Inn come through the tunnel and highway from the mountains, which turns into a palmtree-lined driveway to the front of the Way Inn. The valets are trained to park everything from horse and carriage to spacecraft inside the basement parking space of the Way Inn.

Don't ask how any of this happened, as anyone who knows will go into a very technical lecture of how the gardeners do such and such to maintain this and that and the archway to the parking lot can do whatsit and whosit and thanks to the Crafter on the Roof, blech and bloop plus the square root of nincompoop creates badaboom badabing, wazoo wandering in the Wonderland. Michael Jackson had some sort of hand in it, hence the pristine, ethereal quality of the music played in the Big O dancerooms. However, he didn't have much of a hand in it, and children don't get in free.

Actually, it makes perfect sense, if you know what blech and bloop plus the square root of nincompoop means.

Anyhoo, the Inn is more like a 5-star hotel than a cheap motel, and the main areas for socialization are:

the Front Lobby, where much of the political- and merchant-based business goes on,

the Palm restaurant, a 4 & 1/2 star restaurant and full bar on the first floor,

the Cannon, a 24-hr 'roadside' cafe on the other side of the first floor from the Palm,

the 1st Floor Pool Area, where an olympic-sized pool and spa are located, with a Hawaiian theme throughout,

the Lucky Duck's Casino, which takes up the entire 2nd floor and is smoker-friendly - the Lucky Duck also equipped with a VIP section of roulette tables, poker and blackjack tables, and a full bar and lounge,

the River Club, a cigar club located on the 32nd floor, opposite to

the Tigre Restaurante, a Meditteranean-style 5-star restaurant and lounge, smoker friendly,

the Big O Dance Club, situated on the entire 33rd floor, which has two dance floors with an underwater and space theme, respectively, a VIP lounge, smoker-friendly, a full bar and live music in the underwater-themed dance floor every Friday and Saturday night, with an emphasis on electronica music,

and the Penthouse Club, which is situated on the 34th (2nd to top) floor next to the two penthouse suites and just below the Presidential Suite, and requires a special pass to enter. To get the pass, you have to spend an extravagant amount of money, or be someone extremely important. The most official of official business- or the most sensitive of illegal business- can be conducted in one of several private booths in the Penthouse Club with a complimentary bottle of champagne for every guest.

-Management

The reason why so few staff members are in such a big hotel is because the staff members available are concierge, bartenders, chefs, poolboys, private dancers, (-which are available to the Penthouse Club members,) management, and belhops/valets. Butlers to the penthouses, waitresses, etc, are NPCs, available to be controlled by anyone, but repeating use of NPCs (say there's a waitress named Wendy that works the evening shift in Tigre Restaurante,) is encouraged for internal consistency. Someone else is welcome to start the story.

This post has been edited by PyroSkittle on Jul 27 2009, 06:12 PM

Don't we make our actual characters first before we start the story?

I suggest there be one position of security in the inn, like I think I did in the original post stating this idea.

(And because I decided I do have enough time for this RP, and I had an idea for a security character. )

I also recommend making your guest an important person from their dimension. Normally in other RPs I'd advise against that, but in this situation, it's ideal, because then you have characters that have political and economical power, allowing for interdimensional conflict and intrigue. One person make a queen from a place, another can be an assassin from a dimension that hates the queen's dimension and wants her dead. And the queen can make the staff protect her.

This post has been edited by Thrice on Jul 27 2009, 07:24 PM

My character shall be...

Maggot
Real Name: Nigel
Gender: Male
Race: Creeper (a zombie-like creature)
Build: Short and scrawny
Profession: punk rocker
Home: A parallel Earth
Other: Hopes for him, and his band, Maggot Love, to become regular performers at the Inn. Is heavily addicted to Androcyne (a futuristic form of heroin), and will use any drug known to man.

This post has been edited by Mr.Doobie on Jul 28 2009, 12:36 PM

Well, then, mine shall be...

Wilimena Smith, AKA 'Smity the Smithering Smithy-Smatty' by friends, AKA 'Billy' by family
Female, Age 437, acts 12-ish
Autobot, 34 feet high, transforms into a silver classic Rolls Royce
Groundskeeper, meaning she tells the gardeners what to do and rolls over any invading squirrels,
Can normally be found on a patch of cement that was originally supposed to be used for guests that wanted to rollerblade next to the ocean, likes to give guests tours and has a constant need to polish herself.
Has a girl-crush on Miley Cirus, has a crush-crush on any human males resembling Brad Pitt. Especially Adam Lambert. ESPECIALLY.

This post has been edited by PyroSkittle on Aug 7 2009, 01:03 PM

Oakmot's Adry, forgive me. I'm stealing your joke (as I have been for a while).

Name: The God of Shenanigans (undercover as the King of Nowhere, using the name Orpheus)
Age: As long as there have been Shenanigans, he has existed.
Gender: Male
Species: God. Sort of. Arguably an extradimensional entity hell-bent on causing as much chaos as he can in as indiscrete a manner as possible. Currently disguised as a 36-year-old human male with distinctive red hair, green eyes, and a fedora. Because fedoras are cool.
Other: The God of Shenanigans is the incarnation of all things that make no sense. Despite this, in practice he is surprisingly logically-minded, if a little flippant. He's currently pissed at the other gods due to being kicked out of the pantheon for setting the elder god's head on fire. With this ousting, his formerly cosmic-level powers have taken a serious dive, so he's currently undercover in the Way Inn while waiting for his abilities to warp the laws of reality to recover their full strength. He currently retains the ability to cause others to temporarily defy the laws of physics- however, this will only work so long as they are unaware they are doing so. The Way Inn was his choice of a place to recuperate because, due to its being the crossing point between billions of worlds, it is constantly erupting in chaos- there's literally no place better for a god whose entire essence comes from insanity.

I couldn't help myself.

Name: Alakazam
Age: Unknown. But right now he's Level 64.
Gender: Male
Species: Alakazam
Profession: The Way Inn Security
Background: A few Pokemon trainers once spent a few days in the Way Inn, but when one of them left, he forgot his Alakazam, having dropped it in the gardens. A groundskeeper discovered the Alakazam, and it was decided the Pokemon would be used for entertainment, bending spoons and hypnotizing people as a late night act. Unfortunately, the Alakazam felt insulted, and as his response, he bent all the silverware in the Way Inn and blasted people with his attacks. Seeing his destructive capabilities, the Inn agreed to let the Alakazam act as security, a job he found much more agreeable. He can be found anywhere at anytime, but usually he is busy defeating people at strategy games from their worlds. Alakazam is particularly fond of winning at Earth's chess and Snizzaraoniesas's blarghschpackle. Especially the blarghschpackle.

Alakazaam? Sweet. Tough one, too. What are the four moves it knows?

Also... since I'm bored, anyone who wants to join put in the character bio and just hop right in. I'll start the RP now.

Nonononononono...

Wilimena couldn't believe it. Her chrome fender had a bright pink mark on it.

Where'd it come from? Why is it on me? Eaurrrgh!! She rubbed it with the leather cloth that barely covered the tip of her index finger.

Gotta get it cleaned, gotta get it cleaned, gotta get it cleaned... Wilimena wondered why she always got the random smudges in the mornings for the thousandth time.

Hearing footsteps, Wilimena looked up. "Oh, Hello there!"

Jump in any time.

This post has been edited by PyroSkittle on Aug 7 2009, 01:10 PM

Moveset...

Psychic: Uses a strong telekinetic force that tries to control others' bodies.
Psybeam: Shoots a beam of psychic energy. Potential chance of disorienting the target.
Reflect: A telekinetic force field is formed in front of Alakazam to act as a barrier.
Recover: Healing move.

Psybeam can be dodged, Psychic can be broken out of with a strong will, and Reflect's barrier is breakable.

Alakazam

Alakazam patrolled the second floor of the Way Inn, the Lucky Duck's Casino, expressing his disgust at the smell of smoke with one word. "Alakazam." He remembered his days at the poker and blackjack tables, the delight of calculating the odds to help oneself win in the long run. Maybe it didn't work every round, but over time it certainly paid off. Games rewarded the smart.

And when you were rewarded too much, they banned you from the games. "Alakazam..."

"Alakazam, stop that man!" Alakazam turned around to see a man with a bag of chips fleeing the floor, heading straight for the stairs. For a moment, he watched with mild amusement at the boldness of the man to steal when the Way Inn security was there. Then both his and the thief gave off a blue aura, the latter flying up into the air.

"Alakazam." The bag flew out of the thief's hands and dropped to the ground. "Alakazam." The Pokemon hurled the man down the stairs and listened to his screams as he came to a crashing halt against the wall.

Later on, Alakazam wandered around the grounds. In his mind he considered theories of why this intersection between dimensions existed, seeking out the strengths and flaws of each proposal. He planned to select the best ideas and add them into his book. He would usher in an era of a new field of science, planar theory, uncover the mysteries of the location of The Way Inn, and hold the respect of scientists everywhere, from Earth to Johto. And each one of those dimensions would reward him with all the scientific prizes they could think of, and in his acceptance speech, he could say, "Alakazam Alakazam Alakazam..."

That would show his idiot ex-trainer.

"Oh, hello there!" It was Wilimena.

"Alakazam."

As Wilimena raised her eyes, she was greeted by what appeared to be something just spat out by a junk yard.

It was a short, scrawny little creature, its pallid skin drawn tight across it's bones, giving it an emacieted and deathly look, something only enhanced by its dark eyes, and it's rancid stench.

It's head was completely shaven, save for the tall, purple mohawk that rose in jagged spikes from it's scalp, it was completely shirtless, revealing many tattoos, most notably the word Rancid scrawled across its thin chest. Safety pins were stuck all over its body, in it's tight jeans, it's heavy combat boots, and even in its very flesh.

Most notably, it's flesh arms stopped just beneath the elbow, which is where steel appendages took over, just as dirty and jagged as the rest of the creature.

The creature gave a little wave, than spoke in a drowsy, raspy voice, "Hey, Ah'm Maggot, ah'm with the band Maggot Love... you look like you work here, I wuz wonderin' where my band and I can stay?"

Wilimena

Wilimena looked at the zombie-man and then at Alakazaam, wondering which one to respond to first. After a moment of recalling that she was supposed to treat customers with extra-careful respect, and especially to avoid accidentally stepping on them, she decided to speak to 'Maggot'. Naturally, she spoke everything in a much higher pitch than necessary.

"Well, sir, we have several places that would be lovely for such esteemed guests of the Way Inn. Would you be interested in a suite, or in several suites, or in several plain 'ol rooms? Ooh, we have a continental breakfast available to all the rooms, and it's served in the main lobby from six until eleven, and their orange juice is just lovely. Well, it's hard to tell if it's lovely for ME, because I don't really have tastebuds, but you could definitely ask something WITH tastebuds... Ooh! Say, Alakazaam, have you ever had the fresh orange juice? I heard it was just lovely, but I don't know."

Too bad that Adam Lambert isn't visiting. He's a REAL rocker! She thought to herself, wondering what a handsome human would look like next to the pile of inky skin in a performance. She made sure not to say it out loud.

Maggot nodded, swaying slightly, "Sep'rate rooms, I guess, if we can afford it. Though we could always p'form for our keep..."

At the suggestion, Maggot held up one of the strangest instruments Wilimena had ever seen. At one point, it had been nothing more than a simple bass guitar, but now, metal plates covered it, ratcheted obnoxiously to the body and neck of the guitar, with the neck plates serving the additional purpose of holding the SMG that was strapped to the neck of the guitar.

"Don't look like ye've got the 'thority to be sayin' who perform wot, where." Maggot continued, "Ahhh, bugger it all, I'll be askin about..."

With that, Maggot turned to leave, but than suddenly seemed to think better of it, and he stopped. "Ahhhhhh, I've got a question."

Maggot turned back around and leaned close to Wilimena, producing a small syringe from his pocket and holding it up in front of her eyes, "Ya don't mind if I'm doing a bit of the ole' androcyne? It's just... I gotta have the stuff, an', a lot of f*ckers seem to have a problem with that. You got a problem with it?"

Willimena

At the syringe, Willimena tilted her head to the side.

"I've never heard of androcyne- is it a new type of insulin? Like, for diabetes?" Willemena shrugged, not really caring for an answer, "Yeah, sure! There's nothing illegal about taking meds!

"The concierge should have all the information you could need. I'm the groundskeeper, though, so if you have any questions about fertilizer or best sunset views or hotel gossip or stuff like that, I'm the girl!"

Willimena nodded her head triumphantly, realizing she was doing what a chef had once told her was 'posturing'. She wondered what the view must be like from the floor, since she was towering over Alakazaam and Maggot just to look at them.

I just realized I should have made a more managerially-important person, so I'll just stuff this character bio up next to nowhere for my next post... PS, this character can be played by others; I'm not going to be possessive of him or of Wilimena. IE, if ye feel the need, I don't mind godmodding them lightly during your own posts.

Lemon O'Leery
34, Master Concierge
6'4, 345 lb, African-American, Texan & wears a ten-gallon hat + very... green... cowboy boots to prove it, despite the fact that he's supposed to wear one of the spiffy little caps & the pointy, uncomfortable shoes his employees wear. Secretly born in Minnesota. He doesn't ever talk about it, even when confronted with it. He preffers to pretend that the conversation is of a different topic & will utterly ignore any mentioning of Minnesota made around him. Gigantic ham, loves any food with bacon or alcohol in it, and says just about every cowpoke-y thing he can think of. In fact, he keeps a list of cliche Texan sayings in his back pocket- next to a small, rolled-up American flag. In the other pocket, he has a flambuoyant pair of gigantic orange reading glasses. Normally, he doesn't read. He hangs out a lot in the Lucky Duck in his off hours, as he's fantastic at poker of all kinds and has an odd luck with roullette. He'll always win at roullette if he has twenty dollars or less in his bank account. No exceptions. He and his friends tested this theory in high school; he gave all his money to someone to hold, under the agreement that they get fifteen percent of everything he wins, and he'll bet twenty dollars on green. He'll get green, give the money to his pal, rinse and repeat with a different number until the two of them are swimming in cash. Then he'll make a cowpokey saying and move to the poker table to silently count cards and whoop about when he won big. Well, biggger.

Alakazam wrinkled his nose in disgust at the mention of the orange juice. He could almost feel the taste on his tongue right now, "Alakazam," he said, resisting the urge to spit.

As the other one, the rocker from Earth or whatever the land was called-they made a videogame and anime out of Kanto and Johto, that man's dimension-pulled out the syringe, Alakazam watched closely, examining the syringe. It seemed to be a drug; perhaps the man was a dealer? There was supposed to be no unapproved interdimensional drug trade going around, and Alakazam doubted whatever was in the syringe had been approved, since birth pills weren't even allowed to go between worlds yet.

"Alakazam." He called on the power of Psychic and lifted the syringe out of the boy's hands.

The God of Shenanigans sensed a disturbance... and smirked.

The Way Inn. It was a realm of chaos. Nothing to make you feel at home like a good bout of interdimensional politics. That or violations of the laws of physics, which were actually rather common- after all, in a place where dimensions met, the laws of reality were hardly common knowledge. He sipped his mug of tea- tea that had steeped so long it was nearly black.

Well, here was some excitement. That infernal psychic had just confiscated a syringe from some poor sap. He removed a coin from his pocket and flipped it. "Tails," he muttered. He snapped his fingers, and the coin leaped back into his pocket. This was hardly an uncommon trick around the Way Inn, nobody would suspect a mild telekinetic of being a fallen deity.

Oh, brilliant. The one with the confiscated syringe was a corpse. A walking corpse of some sort. The God of Shenanigans shuddered. Zombies were rather annoying, even if they were a rather convenient source of shenanigans. It was always rather difficult to stop them if they took a shine to your brains. He flipped the coin again. "Heads".

The coin flips didn't actually mean anything. He was just trying to see if he could beat the laws of probability yet.

With a sigh, he wandered over to the car, the guard Pokemon, and the walking corpse. "Good afternoon Willimena, Alakazam, and... whoever you are." He wrinkled his nose slightly. "Does there seem to be any trouble?" His eyes seemed to light up at the word. He really needed to work on that.

"I'm Maggot, of the band Maggot Love. You the boss 'ere?" Maggot asked the strange newcomer.

This post has been edited by Mr.Doobie on Aug 17 2009, 06:07 PM

The God of Shenanigans smiled slightly. "The boss?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "No, not yet anyway. But I do spend quite a bit of time here."

He tipped his hat to Maggot. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Orpheus, king of Nowhere."

Willimena stood bolt uptright, much like how she had often been told to. The movement may have surprised the others; usually Willimena moved fairly slowly to keep the guests from being scared of all her metallic bits. But this was FAR more important than scaring the ill rocker! Royalty!

"Why, hello, most honored King of Nowhere! May I help you in some way- sir!" Willimenia hoped he didn't notice the pink splotch on her bumper.