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The Arms Hotel, Friday

The hotel lobby was tastefully decorated for fall, with baskets of (possibly fake) apples and piles of (likely fake) decorative gourds. As usual, there was a banner hung from the ceiling with a welcome for visiting parents and other weekend guests. Carafes of coffee, hot chocolate, and hot apple cider were waiting at the buffet along with mugs.

Maybe the only thing out of place was the woman with tangled hair and smudged mascara wearing a "Happy New Year" party hat. She stumbled out of one of the rooms adjacent to the lobby and looked around in confusion. "Okay, I know I needed to sleep it off, but I didn't think I slept that long!" said Mary, staring at the banner. "Oh my lord, Parents Weekend already? I'm going to need something to help me get through this." Mary grabbed a mug, filled it halfway with coffee, then proceeded behind the front desk to open the cabinet with the mini bar supplies. But before she could grab a handful of those tiny bottles, several blankets came flying out of the room she had just left. They wrapped around her, almost as if they were forming a cocoon, and dragged her back to the room. The liquor cabinet shut with a loud bang, and then the lobby was silent once again.

Welcome to The Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Butternut Squash Stuffed Shells
Pumpkin Swirl Cookies

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If you can catch her before she gets trapped in the blankets.

The staff at the Arms Hotel would be happy to take care of you while their boss is otherwise indisposed.

Yeah, I wish I could sleep through the rest of 2020 myself.

Chelsie had kept to her shadows long after Julius and his...'friends'...had left the park. He knew she was here. She'd watched him get spooked - there was only one dragon in the Heartstriker clan who could put that immediate fear of mortality into the hatchlings and it wasn't their mother. She wasn't sure how she'd been spotted - it was the girl with the golden hair, she knew that much and had marked her - and it was just a little bit galling to know that a human had seen her when she hadn't wanted to be seen.

Once night had fallen, she pulled out her phone, tapping the screen as she tried to remember how to get to the actual phone part of this model. She got a new phone every week and never saved her contacts. Phones were too easily lost or compromised to trust with her list of Heartstriker private numbers. She did keep a secret backup in an old-fashioned dats-stick hidden in her boot, but she didn't need it for Bob. Her eldest brother'd had the same number for over a hundred years and Chelsie knew it by heart.

She dialed quickly and settled against a tree to wait while she went through the four full cycles of rings and voicemail Bob always put her through when she called.

Finally, just before his voicemail picked up for the fifth time, the phone clicked and a bright voice said, "I feel so popular!"

"Do we really have to go through this every single time?" Chelsie growled. "One of these days, it's going to be really important."

"Nonsense, Chelsie-lamb," Bob said, settling his lady onto her perch and flinging himself down onto the bed in the room he'd chosen for himself in their suite. Oh. He should tell her about that.

Or had he done that already? Impossible to remember.

"That's the thing about being a seer; I always know when it's important."

Except for here. Which again--delightful. He giggled.

Chelsie frowned. To the casual listener, the words would sound flippant, but Chelsie knew her brother, and to her, Bob sounded distracted.

Distracted and even a little bit worried, under the laughter.

"Where are you? And where is Justin? We're not letting him just roam the island, are we?"

"Justin is eating his body weight in pizza in his own suite, because I certainly didn't want him in here with us," Bob said. "...Did I not tell you about the suite? I could have sword I had. Huh. Anyway, come to the hotel, we have a suite, you can have your pick of rooms, except there are only two and I've chosen mine already. Besides, I'm sharing it with my Consort and what goes on in my room isn't fit for little ears."

His pigeon made a chirping sound and Bob hit the mute button on his phone. The word - like every other symbol on the face - had worn away decades ago, but he knew where every button was.

"Shh," he told his lady. "She doesn't need to know my powers don't work here yet. Let her imagine we stay up all night devising secret plans to control the future."

Because they did!

"Ugh," Chelsie said, grimacing at her phone. She hung up before Bob unmuted her, heading for the hotel.

And about ten minutes later, kicked open the door to his bedroom. "All right, Bob," she snarled. "What is the game here?"

The pigeon squawked and flapped on her perch, clearly disturbed. "Aww, look," Bob said, pouting. "You disturbed her. Must you be so violent, Chelsie-lamb?"

"Yes," Chelsie said, leaning against the doorjamb. "Because you insist on being infuriating. "I'm here because Mother sent me as a reminder to Julius that time is ticking and she is always watching. But that doesn't explain why you're here. And why you brought that idiot whelp along with you."

Bob gave Chelsea an injured look. "I'm his eldest brother!" he protested. "I'm here to help him grow, reach his full potential, provide a positive male role model, all that big brother stuff!"

Since the suite was empty, Chelsie permitted herself an eyeroll. "Seriously," she sighed.

A casual sweep of power ousted all of the squirrels from their various hiding places.

And then he sighed, too. "I'm going to need someone soon," he admitted, voice deepening to its real tone, losing the affectation and amused persona. And for a moment, Bob looked tired. Still flawlessly handsome, but his green eyes were dulled, as if his inner fire had been banked.

Only two dragons ever got to see him like this and Amelia had been gone for a long, long time.

"There's a storm coming. I can see it, but I can't see through it or beyond. All I know is that we are approaching a crux, and one of us is going to have to make a choice that will either doom or save the entire clan."

"And you chose Julius?" Chelsie cried. "Why not me? Why not Conrad? Hell, why not even Justin, for all that he keeps his brain inside his sword! There are ten clutches worth of Heartstrikers. Surely one of them has someone more qualified than Mr. Nice Dragon."

"Ten?" Bob shook his head. "There are no more As on this plane. I am the last of the Bs. You and Conrad are the only Cs. And do you really want me looking for a tool amongst the Fs?"

Chelsie's flinch answered his question. "It's precisely Julius's failures that make him so perfect," he said, a little of that lightness creeping back into his tone. "Most dragons have absolutely no idea what to make of him. But I'm starting to think that Julius is, in fact, remarkably predictable if you understand his thinking."

"And you do?" Chelsie scoffed.

"Of course not!" Bob said, chuckling. "Do I look nice? But the point is, I believe that Julius's actions are internally consistent, and yet, he's such an atypical dragon that none of us can reliably predict what he's going to do. He's both predictable and unpredictable at the same time! And that, little sister, makes him the best chance we have. Trust me."

"I do," Chelsie said, leaning more firmly against the wood of the door. "I just wish you would make it a little easier."

"That would be no fun at all," Bob said, grinning at her, his persona restored. "Besides, we're still at the very beginning of the testing phase. You can't trust how a tool will perform until it's been vigorously tested. Otherwise you might discover it's flawed right when you need it most."

Chelsie's eyes narrowed. "What are you planning?"

"Oh, we've already started it," Bob said. "Why do you think all this happened? Who put the bug in Bethesda's ear, who suggested the seal years ago, so she'd forget it was anything but her idea? The testing started as soon as he was bundled onto that plane and sent to the DFZ."

Chelsie shook her head. "You're cold, Bob," she murmured. "You know that, right?"

For a moment, Bob closed his eyes and that sense of weariness returned. The pigeon left her perch and flew over to land in his lap and cuddle against him. "You and Conrad get to be the merciful ones," he said. "I see every path where mercy leads. And they all get lost in the storm."

Chelsie nodded. Once. "I'm going to call Frederick and check in," she said, swinging around so she was facing the main suite. "Good night, Brohomir."

She let the door swing shut as she left; if Bob replied, she did not hear.

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The Arms Hotel, Friday

Talk To Mary

Mod Your Service

OOC

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Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

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Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

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Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!

Re: Mod Your Service - NFB from here, please!