Chapter 56: Check-in?
*Well, well, here we are. I'm trying the new approach still, with a shit ton of dialogue and hopefully I won't fuck it up :))
Let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus vult.*
Mark stood there, silently waiting, while Stelle went ahead to fetch March. Himeko and Welt went ahead to the hotel, while they were left behind since both Stellaron possessors were out cold.
The duo emerged from the other room, chatting away about all the things they wanted to do there—especially March, since she's been waiting for a vacation for a long time.
"I see that you have a lot of plans, March. Maybe you won't spend your entire allowance there," chuckled Mark, crossing his arms as he began walking out with them. He didn't bother with luggage since the Express would always be around. Plus, it was pretty sure that he wouldn't get a room to stay in, or at least that's what he thought would happen.
March pouted, smacking his shoulder.
"Hey, don't worry. Pretty girls have to buy pretty things. Plus, you should be ready since there is a shopping session coming up when we have time. Hope you didn't forget about it. You might want to save up for that."
Mark tensed up, and Stelle grinned from ear to ear. Mark simply sighed, his shoulders slouching. He did get himself deeper into the mess.
"Fine, fine, but we'll do it my way. And don't worry about my savings, I got someone backing me up with quite the nice sum as my salary for being a lab rat," he smirked, gaining a bit of his confidence back. With how much Herta paid him, he couldn't help but be slightly worried that she did something to him while those 100 years of his were going on.
"Let's just get going now," said Stelle, pushing them both towards the door. Mark had to carry their luggage, because that's how it goes, so he simply put everything on his shoulders, walking with ease.
The entire entry protocol was long and tiring, and Mark had been inspected a few times thanks to his shady outfit. At some point he nearly got into a fight with some of the personnel, because some 'dumb fuck', as he put it, didn't want to accept that his gauntlet was not a weapon—even if Mark was close to proving him right by punching him in the face.
"We're here at last! The Family sure doesn't play around with their entry protocols. Our bags probably know what it feels like to be a celebrity now with all the attention..."
March eyed Mark, glaring subtly at him with a tinge of irony in her voice.
"I'm so glad we had our bodyguard here to make sure nothing happened to them."
He was more than pissed already, so her comment only earned an outright death threat sent nonverbally through eye contact. She took a step behind Stelle, suddenly tame.
"I hate these things, but we're finally in," sighed Mark, uncrossing his arms, losing some of the tension that had built up in him. He was still shaking slightly from anger.
"Let's just go inside and see what's happening," said Stelle, trying to not mind the two jokesters that ate away at her mind.
Their eyes were glancing around, the hotel surmounting all expectations. Countless rows were stacked together, with more rooms than Mark could count. Rather than trying, he gave up, just looking around as they went.
"Well, the hassle was worth it—just look at this grand hotel lobby! All those endless rows—they're all rooms, right? Just think of the number of guests staying here," beamed March, her childlike curiosity and amazement resurfacing again.
Mark shuddered at the thought of that many people, thinking about how loud the atmosphere must be and how annoying it would all feel for him. Plus, the more people, the more chances of incidents taking place. Out of habit, he kept looking around for exits, possible items to be used for whatever situations. He forgot for a split second that he had powers.
"Let's just go to the reception or wherever we should be. This place is already making me feel a bit... odd."
That odd feeling was nothing other than deja vu. Was it because of the dream with Acheron? Or maybe his memories that came undone? No, he knew that something else was happening. His memories didn't trigger him like that, while the dream itself lacked substance about the exterior of the hotel. No, it was a new thing altogether.
As they kept going, March sped up ahead, leaving Stelle and Mark behind. To the side, the boy from the dream appeared, his visible purple eye staring at them both.
"Welcome to the Reverie! May you experience an unforgettable holiday! If you need any help checking in, please head straight to the concierge."
Those words were the same as the dream. Mark was perplexed, straining his face to show no hint of doubt or turmoil.
"Do you work at the hotel?" asked Stelle, glancing at him with careful eyes.
"I am Misha, a bellboy, working here on Penacony. Pleased to be at your service."
He looked at Mark, who still carried the luggage.
"If you need any help with your baggage..."
March suddenly called out for them two, stating that something's wrong there. Misha nodded, quickly finishing.
"Should you need assistance with moving your luggage to your room, feel free to contact me. Please, go ahead, don't keep your friend waiting."
The two rushed to the reception, and March was already annoyed.
"Hey, what's the big gathering at the concierge about? We've just arrived, and there's already drama?"
The issue was simple, and Mark had a clue. It was about the name missing on the list. They had Dan Heng written there, meaning that Stelle and himself, for that matter, were missing on the list.
"Something came up in Dan Heng's schedule, and he couldn't make it. I have an idea—could you reassign his room?" asked Welt, trying to bargain. Yeah, Mark thought that it was done for him. Just as he recalled, four rooms. He'd either find a way to enter the Dreamscape through some shady means or simply stay outside and miss out on the fun.
"Great. I draw the short end of the stick again," he thought, keeping his face unbothered. He simply settled down the luggage, making sure to be careful with it.
Meanwhile, Himeko and Welt were still trying to make it work, with her stating she can vouch for Stelle's status as a member of the Express. It was simple, really... The world wasn't made for him to begin with. A few shadows gathered in his vision, and he felt someone knock into him while walking. He turned around, but the crowd of people waiting there wasn't helping at all.
"Must have been someone from the crowd," he muttered.
The lady at the reception tried to apologize, starting to weave her excuse, until the crowd parted, making way for a single man to walk in. He was a bit shorter than Mark had expected, half a head below him, but the expected aura of confidence and sheer luck was pungent in the air.
"It's just that right now, we're on the eve of the Charmony Festival, Penacony's most important moment of every era. And with the Family's invite, all guests from all over the cosmos have thronged this place..."
March scrutinized him visually, looking up and down at the man, trying to understand just who he is and what's his bidding. Mark's head nearly split the more he kept thinking, so he dropped the attempt.
"Hotel security is on high alert, with zero room for error. And with such a last-minute change, it really isn't something that this young lady's words can resolve on a whim."
He gave a bright smile, one of the most realistic fakes Mark had seen, only for it to turn into an understanding expression. He knew it all the best. Scarce were the details about the man, but the gambler's luck and name of Aventurine came to him. The IPC's man. Mark wasn't about to drop crumbs, so he bit his tongue back.
"My esteemed guests from the Astral Express, please do not make it harder for her."
Welt and Himeko were subtly on high alert, the sudden interference not something they adored.
"I'm sorry for all the troubles our check-in seems to have caused. Might I ask for your name?"
Welt was calm and polite, with sternness in his voice.
"I am the humble Aventurine of the IPC's Strategic Investment Department. A Non-Performing Asset Liquidation Specialist and subordinate of supervisor Diamond. I was cordially invited by the Watchmaker..."
The name stung Mark in the head, the feeling already annoying more than painful. Every single name, term, place, just about everything around him kept triggering that in his mind. He reached for his nose, but nothing was there.
"I also happen to be a traveler who's had to stay behind you for quite a while," he added, not turning back to look at the long line that waited behind. Mark scoffed silently, nearly glaring at the people who were not-so-patiently awaiting their turn.
"Leave it to me," whispered Himeko to Welt, doing the thing that led to Mark growing fond of her.
"I've heard that the IPC has also received Penacony's invitation, so forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you must be the representative. The IPC's elite certainly does have an extraordinary air about them. I suppose such an exceptional figure such as yourself wouldn't mind paving a convenience for us?"
The deadliest trick in the book. Beautiful woman, sweet voice paired with sweeter words, and then the driving nail—that's a chance for the man to prove himself and gain favor in her eyes. Mark was fighting back the urge to do something drastic, so he just waited.
Aventurine quickly flipped the script, switching to his very 'humble' nature.
"I must be hearing things: Paving a convenience? Shouldn't I be saying this to you instead?"
He took a bit of a different tone, playing some stupid game that Mark disliked.
"I've been waiting here for ten minutes. Do you know how many credits ten minutes is worth for me?"
Mark sighed, putting his hands in the coat's pockets, the fabric making a soft noise as he walked closer. He looked down at Aventurine, smiling a bit, his tone good for making jokes.
"I guess enough for you to play an interesting sum on the roulette. Don't worry, a man of your renown will surely make quite a nice sum like that, just by betting it all on red. Let's be honest here, ten minutes isn't that much, and we both know it."
Aventurine looked him up and down in a flash, the man preparing himself for the strange character that stood at his side. It seemed that the IPC lacked information on Mark.
"Oh, I'm just a 'humble' man who loves traveling just as much as you do. Still, I have learned to hone my patience too. Still, you know how it goes in this world: scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. So, maybe 'paving' a tiny something for us here would be a nice way for us to help you with another issue in the future, I'd say."
The man had a slight glimmer of something in his eye, like a predator ready to jump the most pitiful prey possible. It was two cunning bastards who weren't shy about nearly calling things by name.
"Well, well, well. I do like what you suggest, after all. You must be a Trailblazer as well, so I take it that your word holds meaning. I'll be looking forward to spending more time with my new acquaintances, then."
Mark smirked, reaching for a handshake, which Aventurine gladly took. Still, he made sure to grip just a touch firmer than needed, to which he got an answer in kind.
"Well, I shall go the extra mile and have you scratch my lower back too by asking if it's possible to get an extra room in here. I wasn't present when the invitation was extended, but I'd like to spend some time here as well with my dear friends."
Aventurine looked at the lady at the reception, giving a brief nod.
"You heard him. Please allow the gray-haired lady to check in on my account, and do put any expenses for a new room on my tab. I want my friends here to enjoy themselves."
He took a knowing look towards Stelle, as if assessing something, but Mark simply stood next to him, smiling just enough to seem polite.
"I have an appointment with The Family's Mister Sunday. I will ask him to handle this matter later. Don't worry, I won't cause you any trouble."
The lady was still troubled, looking down, hesitant.
From behind, a figure appeared, clad in white from head to toe, with a pair of tiny wings on his head.
"Alley, just a moment," he said calmly.
He looked over to the members of the Express, his expression gentle and compassionate.
"The Family cannot allow guests to enter a dream while bearing burdens."
They all looked at him and the gentle figure that appeared by his side, the frail lady that made the charts.
"Speak of the devil, look who's here! It's Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony! Along with the singer renowned across the universe, Robin!"
Aventurine's flattery didn't fall on def ears, but Mark chuckled.
"Sorry, but the title of most handsome here is mine ever since I arrived. Sorry, Sunday, but you got competition," chuckled Mark, going over for a handshake, trying to act as loosely as possible now. It was good, at least on some level, to display multiple sides. His powers were hidden, and hopefully there was no leak from the Space Station. He was supposed to only be seen as the shady guy who might be a pain in your ass, not as the dude who could blow up the entire place in a suicide attack.
"Well, I wouldn't say that you're wrong," said Robin, looking over at Mark before he gently got a handshake from her too. He didn't know how to act when saluting women, and a kiss on the back of the palm was too much.
"Oh, you flatter me, Miss Robin," he smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Well, I'm most glad to have met you here, that's for sure. I'm looking forward to the festivities and to Miss Robin's wonderful singing voice."
She smiled, her gaze gentle and friendly, quite humble in itself. She was the one genuinely humble out of both Mark and Aventurine who had introduced themselves as such for the hell of it.
"I've kept you waiting, Mister Aventurine. This way, please, let us speak in private."
They both departed, leaving the Crew of the Astral Express together with Robin. She gave Mark a friendly pat on the shoulder and walked ahead, smiling at everyone.
"Astral Express guests, please come this way and rest your feet."
They walked together, and March was still awestruck at seeing Robin so casually in their proximity. Mark walked by Himeko's side, and she looked at him with a tiny frown. She nudged him in the side hard enough that he nearly spat out.
"Ouch! What was that for?" he whispered, trying to keep it low.
"Well, Mister 'Most Handsome in Penacony', you sure seem to be having fun talking to Miss Robin."
He was a bit dumbstruck, unsure of what the hell he had done wrong. All he did was offer a compliment and accept one himself, which was most likely offered out of politeness.
"I'll never understand women..." he mumbled, earning himself a slight glare from Himeko, who nudged him again.
"You're so dense," she whispered.
Weekly Power Status
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