wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[The good news: they get out. They escape Norfinbury, and once they're out of the town's iron grip, all of its effects on them disappear - no more MN poisoning, no more radiation sickness. They're still malnourished and underfed, and the dead among them are still dead, but they're out.

The bad news? They can't go home yet.

It's some sort of time- and universe-travel issue, which Alfie honestly isn't even trying to understand in full. Using the town's power, they'd opened up a portal, but they hadn't had time to fine-tune it. When they'd all jumped through, they hadn't even been sure it would work - but with the town collapsing around them, they'd all been desperate enough to try anyway. It had ended up dumping them all at random into New York City - or some version of it, anyway - in the early twentieth century. Stark and the other tech wizards are working hard on the issue, pooling their knowledge and using this world's resources to figure out how to safely repair and direct the portal to send them all back home, or wherever else they want to go. The ones who can't help with that are, essentially, left to their own devices. Tony the billionaire sets them up in a nice hotel in a decent neighborhood, and provides them with enough money to live comfortably on as long as they don't go too crazy with spending. For Alfie, Royce, Emily, and Tifa, he's able to find a two-bedroom suite that's available to be rented by the month. Nobody knows how long they're going to be stuck, and nobody wants to take the chance of being left without lodging.

After all the trauma of the past few months and the chaos of the past few days, their little group isn't wild about splitting up even just for a few hours. But Emily desperately needs a doctor's checkup, and Tifa convinces Alfie and Royce to go ahead and scope out the room while she (with help and advice from the more modern doctors) takes her to a pediatrician. And so they go.

The hotel is towering, and looking up at it makes Alfie feel dizzy, so he focuses straight ahead as they approach the front entrance and its automatic revolving door. He has the envelope with their room number and key, and as they walk, he hands it to Royce.]

We're on the sixty-first floor - larger rooms at the top only. Fucking hell, I hope they've got a lift.

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Of course I do. [ Royce sighs, sinking into the mattress. ] If it is, I'll take as much advantage as I can.

This all feels real. But so did so much in Norfinbury.

Mm. I think these sheets are silk.

[He approves.]

[ Royce laughs a little. ]

I've never been in a place this high class. I'm looking forward to sleeping in one of these beds. Or bathing. Did you see the small bottles of shampoo and conditioner?

Mm. We did have the shampoo and conditioner in Norfinbury.

[So that's nothing special to him. The hot water, on the other hand...]

[ YEAH BUT ] Not so readily, and not in those tiny bottles. [ Look, don't ruin this for him. ]

I do want to test the tub.

I'd like bigger bottles, but smaller ones are easier to carry, I suppose.

You can go bathe now, if you like. I'll call you when the food comes.

[Alfie doesn't really want to move until that happens.]

Mm. [ Royce doesn't want to move either, but a thought of actually getting to thoroughly clean his hair and rinse off appeals far more. He pulls himself up and shuts the bathroom door behind him, and - yeah, okay, look. Future bathtubs are glorious.

Royce turns the water so hot it almost hurts to be in, tests every single jet function, and finally, soaks. ]

[After a few minutes, Alfie calls out:]

How is it?

[ Royce is like, half asleep at this point, it's instantaneously so relaxing. ]

Amazing. [ Royce mumbles, and then he forgets Alfie probably can't hear him, so he raises his voice and calls back: ] You're going to want to try the extra functions on this thing, Solomons.

Are there more besides the massage?

[It's a fancy-looking tub. He figures there probably are.]

Several, yes. [ Hold on. Royce has to yawn. Alfie can probably hear this - he's probably only ever heard it once, because Royce generally muffles yawns if he can. He doesn't bother, here. He's so at ease - it's quiet and he's warm and clean, something that always signifies to him that he's in a place where he can't be hurt. ] I'll leave it as a surprise.

Are you gonna eat your food and drink your wine in there?

Don't tempt me. [ Royce drawls, sinking down further into the tub. ]

Well, it's either that or tie a rope around you and haul you out, innit.

[ He snorts. ] I'll be out when the food is here, Solomons, don't worry.

Yeah. Wine in the bath does sound nice, though, doesn't it.

It does. [ Royce sighs out. ] I imagine I'll have plenty of time to do that.

I'll have to find a wine I like, first.

Mare-lott.

[He purposefully mispronounces it the way Royce had earlier. Teasing forever.]

[ A beat. ] I get the impression that isn't how you say it.

Nah, it's French. Murr-low.

[Granted, Alfie's pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired, too.

And then suddenly, there's a knock at the door, and a man's voice: Room service! Alfie slides off the bed, still shirtless and not giving a fuck, to go and answer it.]

[ Royce hears that and sighs. He dunks his head under one more time before getting out, draining the warm water and toweling himself off. There are two bathrobes in here - Royce is more than happy to take one of them, pleased to find the dark blue bathrobe has a hood. Aw yiss.

He makes his way out to the room when he's sure the room service guy is gone, toweling his hair dry and brushing through it with his fingers so he can pull it back. He's so clean! And loose, too, not all stressed and annoyed. ]

How's it look? [ Royce asks, peering out. ]

[By the time Royce emerges, five large serving trays have been wheeled into the room, each stacked with multiple covered plates of food and their bottles of alcohol. Alfie starts lifting lids, uncovering fettuccine alfredo, a hamburger with fries (one of which he takes), a hot dog with homemade gourmet potato chips, and an entire lobster.]

[ An entire lobster. Royce stares right at that, eyebrows raised, because that definitely does not look like a thing that should be eaten. He scoots over - and picks up the wine first, because he can. ]

What is that? [ He gestures at the lobster. ]

Lobster. Fish. I've never had it.

[It's not exactly common in London.]

You crack it open, or something; I dunno. I'm gonna have this.

[He gestures to the burger.]

[ Huh. Royce has never even seen one. He wrinkles his nose at it, and then looks over the rest of the meals. He's looking for the steak, because he wants to try it now that he can - and when he opens the dish, there is indeed steak and asparagus on a plate, neatly arranged. ]

I'm not touching that thing. [ The lobster, he means. ] Not a fan of fish anyway.

[ Royce settles down on the couch with his plate and the steak and his bottle of wine, content as hell. This is good. This is like a reward for making it through hell. ]