Haunted Hotel

Larry pursed his lips. If there was one thing he hated more than confrontation, it was a bully. And at this moment, Roderick was suddenly getting aggressive with a child, unusual she may be. But more than that, through dying, his spectral form was no longer subject to the impulses of a natural brain, and completely lacking the survival instincts that should have been screaming. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? He was intangible.

"Let's take a step back, sir. Is there a problem?"

His fingers unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeve, a nervous habit that he hadn't yet dropped. It wasn't like he'd be able to fist fight anyone, but the act itself was a small measure of confidence.
 
Abby has seen this many times, but very rarely has she seen it from Rod. Every time it never fails to absolutely terrify her, despite the fact that the fury was not aimed in her direction.

Thankfully the waitress interrupted something that could have turned... very ugly and Abby smiled, serenely, at Larry. She doubted anything would come of it, but rather than allowing something to escalate into would could potentially be a (fairly comical) altercation... She shook her head.

"No problem here." She nudged Rod under the table with her foot. "Just... a misunderstanding." He had calmed, and hopefully it stayed that way.

The smile did not falter, though beneath the very calm facade, Rod's young wife was shaking, one leg bouncing up and down beneath the table where none could see. The shuffling waitress returned with a tray of drinks, which thankfully had lids. Abby would still be checking hers for bits of floating flesh before drinking.

"Food?" The shambling waitress asked.
 
Oh, Larry. There were plenty of terrible things that could happen, even to the incorporeal denizens. It would take a drastic breech of Rod's particular flavor of protocol – keeping the Veil, and all - which is not something taken lightly. Thankfully, it was not going to get that far. We hope. Keep unbuttoning those sleeves though, pal, and the Alpha male might take it as a challenge. He was watching those cuffs pretty hard... <3

“Not now,” said Roderick as he settled back into his seat after Gwen scurried away. He again adjusted his suit and jacket, and resumed his more cordial demeanor. This was, indeed, a rare occurrence; Rod was usually the most chill of the bunch, next to Erin.

He, too, would be checking his beverage for bits of waitress when it was appropriate, but for now, “Nothing to eat for now, ma'am.”
 
After the unexpected calm, Larry froze, all the embarrassment returning at once. “...Right,” he returned, after a pause. “Sorry, then.” He wondered to himself what had caused such a change, and if this was going to be a problem in the near future. He’d missed the waitress; his focus had been entirely elsewhere. If nothing else, at least nothing escalated.

He had no idea what he’d just done. He’d have to be far more brave than he was to consciously choose this path he’d taken.
 
"No, thank you." The leggy blonde said, and the waitress simply grunted before making her egress. "Charming... woman." The gender was a guess, but eh.

Abby saw that the tension had eased between the two males and she took a sip of her rot-free drink. "If you'll excuse me," she flashed a smile to all three men and rose from her chair.

There had to be a ladies room somewhere. "I'll just be a moment," she promised and her and found her husband's shoulder before she departed for the restrooms.

At the front desk, the teenager flipped another page in his magazine and the seconds on the clock ticked.

The front doors to the hotel opened and even from the dining room, even those without exceptional hearing, the voice of a woman could be heard as she announced her reservation under Greene.
 
Poor Abby. Roderick did not mean to scare her so badly, but it's something he cannot help. The gentleman reached out to tenderly brush the blonde's arm as she stood from her seat; it was his quiet way of atoning for the unintended transgression. Once Abigail had gone to freshen up, Rod cleared his throat. “I do apologize for that little show, gentlemen,” he drawled as he took the lid from his water to examine the for bobbing bits of waitress. “I am afraid I share the family's short temper.” But he does not elaborate on exactly what burnt his biscuits. “My cousins have it even worse than I do.” After a suspicious sample of the water, he turned his attention to Larry. “How often do you visit this place, Lawrence? You do seem to be fairly familiar the the usual guests.”
 
Larry opened his mouth, a bit awkwardly, then shut it again. “I’m, well, not entirely normal myself. You see, I was here, once, by chance, and I...” The ghost took a deep breath. “I died. Never found out how. And so I stayed. But your question seems rather superfluous, with all due respect, as I’m not entirely sure that time translates as expected, while here. It’s just where I am, now.” Larry seemed frustrated, not completely able to express what he wanted to. “So, in short, I’m not much of a visitor. It’s why I spend my time as I do. And why my recommendation for your immediate exit stays the same.”
 
Lucius calmly strolled into the establishment with inhuman elegance and impeccable posture, removing his top-hat with a hand gloved in black leather. His eyes, seemingly normal in appearance, but strangely haunting and captivating upon second glance, scanned his new surroundings coldly as he then began to remove his black overcoat.
 
Darren quietly drifted into the lobby of the hotel. His slight figure in the ragged attire was anything but imposing. In fact his wide-eyed visage seemed almost nervous as he glanced around. But this thought was dismissed a slight smirk cut his face. He confidently, almost mockingly exhaled spectral mist through his nostrils. He pointlessly adjusted his cap and rolled his jaw as he looked over the surroundings. He wasn't particularly impressed, but then his long afterlife as a phantom had removed most wonder from his perception. After another minute of judging the appearance of the hotel, his feet fell back to the floor silently and he slowly approached the finely dressed man before him.
 
Lucius seemed to be aware of someone approaching him sooner than would be the norm for the person. His unblinking eyes latched onto Darren's form, his left eyebrow rising just a tad.
"... Yes?"
His voice was a cold, masculine, mellow purr, moulded by a received-pronunciation English accent.
 
Darren was taken aback slightly, but he caught himself and offered a pleasant smile, "New 'ere too are ya?" He asked, a light cockney accent. "Yeah, I m'self just floated in. Just lookin' aroun' an' such. Say, you look well ta do, mind sparing a few quid for me room an' board? I'd be awful grateful." Darren lowered his cap from his head in an attempt to seem meek and humble.
 
Lucius turned to fully face Darren, his expression remaining static.
"I'm sure one night's worth wouldn't hurt, though I do prefer teaching a man to fish, rather than giving out fish..."
 
Darren grinned, and firmly fit his cap back onto his head. "Aye, much obliged mate! An' on the subjec' o' fish; you wouldn't 'appen ta know if this place has any sorta diner would ya?"
 
Lucius gave a soft, barely audible sigh, and took a leather wallet out of the pocket of his overcoat. He took out three pound coins - Or were they even pound coins? They looked different. That wasn't Queen Lizzie on there...
"I don't know if this place has a diner, I'm afraid. Even if I did, I wouldn't know where it was."
 
Darren held out a hand for the coins, giving a grateful smile. "Ah well, fanks anyway. So wha' brough' ya 'ere? Me I'm a bit ova drifta' these days, but I don' of'en see blokes like you."
 
Lucius handed coins over, giving a small, polite nod at the thanks.
"I'm not exactly sure. One moment, I was walking the streets of London, the next, here."
 
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