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1_800_hotline2019-06-10 10:09 am
calloperators) wrote in 1_800_hotline2019-06-10 10:09 am
Entry tags:
Week 1 [Day 1-Day 3]
[After a long stressful day like this has been, maybe you want to curl up in bed and try to sleep this whole thing off, or maybe you stay up all night desperately trying to find a way out of this town. Whether it be asking the cops for help, trying to steal a car, or just simply trying to walk out of town, you will unfortunately find your attempts to escape fruitless.
Even with it being obvious something strange is going on, no one has shown their face yet to even hint that they're the ones behind it. And you have no idea if or when they will.
However, in the very least you have a whole town to explore, and at the start of each day, and the beginning of every night, no matter where you are, you'll suddenly hear a radio crackle to life. Whether this is comforting or unsettling? Well, that's up to you to decide.
Just have a good time and try not think about the letter you got earlier, okay?]
[ DAY 1 (SUNDAY) || NIGHT 1 (MONDAY) || DAY 2 (TUESDAY) || NIGHT 2 (WEDNESDAY) || DAY 3 (THURSDAY) ]
((OOC: Welcome to Week 1 of Hotline! As you can probably tell by the fact that Day 2 and beyond are frozen, we will have no grace week so we can get right into the murder!
And if you want to investigate the town, you just need to write INVESTIGATION in your header! Have fun ;) ))
no subject
You know what, fine. Venkman may be stressed out of his mind right now, but this will probably lead to some good, cheap entertainment. He'll play along for now.]
Earth's greatest hero, huh? Unless you're a world-class detective, or can punch a hole through this reality and send us back to our own dimensions, don't think there's a whole lot you can do about my problems.
no subject
[If you manage to sneak a peek past him and over to the plaque he's hiding, you can see it reads something like "๐โ๐กโ . SAT" ...the "MR" clearly being metal letters part of the plaque while the dot and the "SAT" have been scrawled on haphazardly after the fact.]
no subject
[Venkman doesn't comment on the plaque just yet, but he definitely notices it.]
Anyway... sounds like you're not much of a hero if that sorta thing is beyond you.
[He's not serious, but he really wants to see how Satan reacts.]
no subject
[Judging by the way his eyes soften with a glint of fear, that last bit seems to have gotten away from him. He takes some deep breaths, slapping his face with both hands and aggressively ruffling his own hair, before sighing haggardly and pinching the bridge of his nose.]
...look. Just. Forget all that, what's your problem even supposed to be, 'cause I sure as hell can't do anything about it if I don't know what it is.
no subject
I dunno, man. Taking out a cell at a molecular level isn't much of a feat- just makes you a really passionate scientist.
Nah, think I can handle it myself, thanks. [A beat.] But I'll let you know if I need your help at some point, Jack. By the way, think you're spelling your name wrong on that plaque- at least, unless you were lying to me the other night when you kicked in a bar door and begged me for weed.
no subject
N-n-now! Wait just a sec' before you call me a liar... Y'see, I've got so many names, i-it's hard to keep 'em all straight! Idn't that weird, right?! Plenty'a folks got stage names, nicknames, or just plain don't like the sound'a what their parents gave 'em and change it 'cause it ain't right- Shoot, some places where they use surnames, folks change theirs when they get married! See! Names're all malleable to begin with! S-so who are you to judge if I don't go by the same thing all the time?!
[...]
...but for the record. I ain't done fixing this one yet, it's not supposed t'be Mr. S.A.T., it's Mr. Satan. I'm guessing the folks running this hotel don't like it and wanna use the next best thing- but to hell with that, I've got a brand. [He turns back to finish writing over his name on the plaque, hoping Venkman will just leave it at that. But he's still looking firmly over his shoulder at Peter while he continues to write, and his hands are so sweaty and shaky that the next A he writes looks more like a 4.]
no subject
Least I know most of your names, now. It was a pain in the ass the other night trying to figure out which room you were in.
no subject
[...]
...what's that you said about figuring out my room.
no subject
Lemme refresh your memory. You ranted and raved about not being recognized, like an alcoholic washed-up D-list celeb, passed out at the bar, refused to wake up, and I carried you back here and had to try your key in every door until I found the right one, 'cause I didn't know your actual name.
[And he STILL went back to the bar to flirt with alternate universe Ray afterwards. Legendary.]
oops!!!
[...well.]
[He wondered how he managed to get back to his room that night. But now he wishes it stayed a mystery.]
S-so. Uh... I guess I owe you on that, too, huh. Great. That's the best, gotta love it! [He tosses the pen on the floor, turning away from Peter to grip the sides of his own defaced plaque.]
It's like... my whole image plain disappeared off the face'a the planet and the only reputation I've still got anymore... i-is as some clumsy braying jackass that can't handle a drink, much less a fight! [He gives a sharp, bitter laugh.] ...that's great! That's great! Really, it is! Thanks for letting me know that.
[Without warning, he stomps a foot on the door and digs his fingers deeper onto the plaque, about to tear the whole thing off.]
no subject
Then again, this man had an ego that begged to be deflated.
... Then again, that describes Venkman's own ego on a good day. And given how this guy's reacting-
Oh, goddamnit. He sighs- hard- and rubs the back of his neck.]
If it helps, don't think anyone except me saw you that night. No one was in the halls, no one at the bar except some of the locals- who couldn't give less of a shit about any of us.
no subject
[The plaque sends an explosion of debris flying as it's torn violently from the door and spiked to the ground like some worthless garbage.]
[Catching his breath, coming down from the burst of rage, he glances over the desecrated plate with downcast eyes, mulling over the facets of himself that both names represented. What they meant to him. What meaning they're supposed to have now that he's in a place far removed from anyone he knew who could provide a purpose for him.]
Last I remember, I was living in a city with my name all over it. Now? Some nowhere podunk town where no one cares, everyone's got something better to do, and I might as well not exist.
[He turns to scream down the halls, away from Venkman, at an entity neither can see.] You happy?! Huh!? Bet you think you're so smart taking everything from me to teach me a lesson 'bout how I don't deserve anything good I got like I'm enough of a dumbass not to know! [His voice starts to take on the distinct waver of an impending sobbing fit that he's desperately fighting back.] Why're you hiding, anyway, huh?! Not gonna give me the satisfaction of knowing who's paying attention to me?! Cowards!
no subject
He's... not totally sure if Satan is even mad at him anymore. He peers in the direction he's screaming towards, expecting to find someone, but no one's there.
Unless it's a ghost.]
... I get it, man, I do, but screaming in the middle of the hallways isn't gonna help you right now. Let's get you in your room.
no subject
[He turns around and starts wordlessly rifling through his gi for his room keys. Fitting the key in the lock, he stares down the stray stragglers of broken bolts barely clinging to the door. All that really got away from him, huh? Christ. He feels guilt burning at the back of his neck- frantically scratching at it trying to make it leave his system, he attempts to stumble out some kind of apology.]
...th-that was- I'm... I should've- it wasn't-
[Before he can commit to saying anything, he cuts himself off and opens the door.]
...c-come on. Come in.
[Is all he says right before disappearing into the room.]