Flickering Candle Inn: Help Wanted

Reviving an RP?

Sounds interesting.	61.9%	[ 13 ]
Ew~ keep things dead.	0.0%	[ 0 ]
ZOMBIE!! KILL IT!!	4.8%	[ 1 ]
Just give me gold.	33.3%	[ 7 ]
Total Votes:			[ 21 ]

[Gothic Romantic]

The words of a grand re-opening reached his ears and a brief moment of panic rose from the pits of his stomach like a demon clawing out of hell. His face grew pale and, in this panic, he rushed to Alura. "No no no no no no no! No party. Not yet." His worry was more for himself, rather than anything else. Too many people too quickly may be a bit too much for the inn keeper.

[Killiandra]

Alura's eyes widened as G.R.'s panicked voice and face reached her and she held up her hands. It's ok!! I wouldn't have planned one without you! I figured it wouldn't be until we had more people staying here anyhow. She smiled and hoping to distract him, gestured. "Your statue is looking just about good as new. I can't get the fog to clean out all the way though... still looking a bit green."

[Gothic Romantic]

With mind at ease, his posture becomes lax. "That is a relief." He admired the work she had done. It had come a long way from from where it had been. "It's lookin' great!"

[Killiandra]

She shook her head and watched G.R. head back up the stairs. Gathering up her supplies, she paused and gave the statue a small smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure he was more impressed with how you fared than he let on." With that she too headed upstairs to her room and rest.

[Gothic Romantic]

The inn keeper went back behind his counter and contemplated on what to do next. His gaze came to the ledger, and he grinned. "Don't worry. We'll get you back in shape in no time, my friend."

[Killiandra]

Alura headed downstairs, sketchbook in hand. No cleaning! Things were fairly well caught up, other than some items that needed actual replacing or repair. Sitting down on the couch in the foyer, she relaxed and kept an eye open for new customers.

[Cooking Sherry]

LEV VASILLEV____________________
Russian Model

It hadn't been very long since he'd left Russia. He'd gone to so many places, soo so many countries, states, cities and so on. It was nice, he supposed. Traveling was relaxing. Getting a job as a model was nice. His manager was even nicer. But he had this knack. This knack of never wanting to stay around him. Was it because he hated him? No! No that wasn't it! Not at all. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was rather certain it was because-- bah. It didn't matter. He shouldn't go there again. It didn't end favorably... so far, ever.

Well, he had been getting tired, and he wasn't sure how, but he had found a hotel. It seemed nice enough. He stepped in, breathing deep, only to wish he hadn't. the place was in shambles! The dark 6'7" man coughed, holding a hand over his mouth. A good wince and watery eyes later, he found the cause. An unnatural amount of dust had just powdered over him and his fine powder blue dress shirt. It showed up so well against his dark black hair long hair and his black dress pants.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a steadier breath this time. Better. The large male model brushed a hand through his long hair, dragging it out from its spot against his back and flipping it back in one good toss. Every strand flew free just before smacking right back down into place. "Ahh..." Well... hopefully this place would turn out to be more charming that the first impression. There was light.. SOME light. which meant life, right? and where there was life, there was certainly a party. He smiled, not even hesitating as his long legs brought him right up to the empty front counter. His eyes for a moment did not catch a thing, but finally, they landed on that odd message board. What was that...? He leaned in a bit, squinting reading the oddly written text. He was never very good at English, but he was certain... "Hahahah!!" He grinned from ear to ear, his deep laugh echoing through the building.

Sign his name he blood? "I think not..." He chuckled again lightly and shook his head, looking around for a pen. Well, he didn't see one right away, so he just plucked on right out of his shirt pocket and dusted the ledger off a bit before using it to write his name in very nice but rough handwriting. Lev Vasillev. He slipped his pen away again, his deep brown eyes looking about the place. "Hallo...?"

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Where: By the Front Desk Who: Alone Feeling: Amused

[Willow Monster]

Lysandra passed through the front door, after taking a few short moments to kick the excess soil from her leather boots. Her weather-beaten overalls were equally a mess, but that was to be expected. Never in her life had she ever undertaken a project this massive. The hour was growing late and her body ached from being on her hands and knees all day, but she was pleased to say the grounds were looking less shoddy.

"Oh! Err, hello," she chimed when she spotted the newcomer. His height was the first thing to catch her attention, although she was quick to notice he wasn't being tended to, which obviously took precedence over her mildly persuasive desire to gawk. Customer service wasn't exactly her area, but she figured she might as well try to fill G.R.'s shoes and offer him a similar courtesy. "Sorry if I seemed startled just now. The place is usually quiet in the evening hours, so I wasn't really expecting anyone," she explained, smiling faintly.

"Have you been waiting long? I can help you get your room sorted."

Cooking Sherry

[Cooking Sherry]

LEV VASILLEV____________________
Russian Model

Lev's big brown eyes soon fell upon a woman. How pretty! He was all smiled to her, crossing his arms comfortably and leaning his lips against the counter. He wasn't just tall; under all of that clothing he was muscular. He had been a military man in the past. It did him well while he had the pleasure of being a part of it. If only it could have lasted long. "Niet... ah... no." His Russian accent was absolutely persistent, almost seeming to perfectly accompany the deep tone of his voice. "You do not startle and I have not wait long." He glanced back to the book where his name was, then grinned to her. "Haahah! I have already signed the book! Ahhh... do you take the cards?" He suddenly stood up, reaching behind him to pull his wallet out. Normal hotel procedures would be to swipe it before your stay. He'd never paid to stay n a pig sty, though. What an interesting experience this would be!

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Where: By the Front Desk Who: Lysandra Feeling: Amused

[Willow Monster]

The young woman could feel her shoulders begin to tense when he opened his mouth and spoke. His accent was remarkably thick, but at least he wasn't completely indiscernible. She strode over to the check-in desk and glanced to his card, pursing her lips ever so slightly as she pondered their options. Establishments with magic woven into their structures rarely asked for mortal currency, but she didn't know for certain. When a man required his tenants to sign in with their own blood, was money even something to be considered? He hadn't said a word about payment to her, although she was technically a working resident.

"Never mind that for now," she sighed, waving off his card. "The doors all seem to be unlocked, so you shouldn't have any problems settling in. I'll have a word with the owner when I see him and ask about your fee." She looked to the ledger and read his name, stifling a chuckle when she saw that he'd chosen to write his signature in ink. Probably a wise decision, to be perfectly frank.

"Lev, is it? I'm Lysandra. Welcome to The Flickering Candle."

Her smile waned as she felt a twinge of uneasiness. She wasn't used to hearing herself speak in a professional manner. It was a bit odd, like hearing your voice played back in a recording. "It's a work in progress at the moment, but I hope you enjoy your stay." Her aqua hues discreetly studied him while she spoke. His clothes were nice, she noticed, and so was his everything else. Very well-groomed and stereotypically gallant. He reminded her of the men you saw gracing the covers of cheesy romance novels -- an increasingly amusing thought that began to show itself in the rising corners of her lips.

[Cooking Sherry]

LEV VASILLEV____________________
Russian Model

Lev watched the woman, her reactions, everything about he. She was very pretty, but certainly not used to showing it off that way the girls he'd worked with did. They were always flipping their hair about and shaking those hips-- he suposed he picked up some very bad habits from them. He laughed at himself, shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts. "Very odd hotel," he stated. They did not taken money, the doors seemed open as long as they were unlocked... very odd indeed.

He blinked and shoved his wallet away again, crossing his arms and grinning at the odd lok ni her eyes. It was... it was.... what was that English word? Meant uncomfortable and... out of place... He hummed and looked across the building. "Ah, yeah... it is very dusty. Did you just... ahh..." He honestly looked like his was struggling with the word, frowning and glancing away from a moment to try and pick it out from somewhere in his brain. "--purchase? The building?" No one would rent rooms out when it was this dirty, would they?

He He looked around a bit bewildered. Where was the owner? Certainly not living here, was he? Well, it was late, and with hired hands he was certain he had hit the hay. "Alright, but I am not quite ready for rest. Is there anything to do here? A bar, or...?"

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Where: By the Front Desk Who: Lysandra Feeling: Amused

[Cooking Sherry]

( sorry, I'm off to an event. I'll be back later tonight. smile )

[Gothic Romantic]

The remaining echo of snapping fingers lingered in the foyer. G.R. touched his employee on the shoulder lightly as not to give her fright but to let her know she can continue on her way. "Thank you for your assistance Lysandra. I can take it from here." The inn keeper folding his white gloved hands together and rested the grip on the counter. Noticing that the ledger had been opened and signed without inquiry was a noticeable irritation to the 5' 11" gentleman. A simultaneous sigh and closure of the eyes cleansed his mind for the time being. Her perked up and gave a grin to the tall fellow. "Salutations, my dear fellow. May I be of assistance?" The conversation may have been useless, but it is better to have the conversation than not to.

The host analyzed the Russian man, noticing the dust that found its way to his hair and clothing. He raised a closed hand to his mouth and coughed gently into the center. In a moment, the fellow was dust-free and the air in the foyer seemed frosted and fresh, as if it were the same air from a crisp Spring breeze in the woodlands of Russia, down to the slight aroma of pine and fertile earth.

[Cooking Sherry]

LEV VASILLEV____________________
Russian Model

Lev Well, well. Lev had very little clue who the man that joined them was, but so far he liked what he saw. So far he was certain he owned this place... at the very least. The tall Russian was all smiles to him. "I need room for the night. Beautiful young lady just said the doors were unlocked... that means there is vacancy, dah?" He wasn't quite sure. The whole magical aspect hadn't quite hit the perfectly normal human being. On the streets it never really made itself present, though he hard about it in stories a lot, he always thought it was just theatrics.

Lev sniffed suddenly, straightening up just a bit more than usual as a short gust brushed past him, dismissing all of the dust and suddenly... oh, he could breath again! But what he was breaching was not the musty scent of old wood and furniture in a building that got very little use... it was... reminiscent. His smile fell a bit, Russia fleeting through his mind, and in an instant he was homesick. There was no place he would rather be.

He glanced around, wondering if a fan had been kicked on, just for a moment, but nothing was around. His eyes fell right back onto the man, his smile creeping right back up into place. "That is neat trick, Gaspadin."

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Where: By the Front Desk Who: Lysandra Feeling: Amused

[Gothic Romantic]

The inn keeper gave a nod to the fellow. "We do have rooms available." G.R. closed the ledger only to re-open it again. "I assume you will be wanting temporary residence? If so.." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a silver pen. "..then please pick a room and sign your name." He placed the pen on the ledger, the tip aiming at the room number Lev had previously signed, but there was no signature there.

"I am sorry if there is any confusion, but a special book needs special inks." He noted the the fellow had changed stature for a moment and the glint in his eyes. The grin on the inn keepers face grew, knowing he could make another customer happy. "And please, call me G.R."