002; video

[idesof]

[Video opens on the lobby of a hotel in art deco styling before James Patrick March comes into frame, wearing a tuxedo with a black cravat instead of any bowtie. He takes a look around before standing in what he seems to assume is the middle of the frame...before rethinking this and taking a few steps to the side. The camera follows. This puts him at the front desk. He puts a hand out to strike a relaxed sort of pose that definitely isn't a pose but looks like a pose that is trying so hard not to be one.]

How do I look?

[The camera man's voice is recognizable to those who have been to the Castile before, a particularly foul-mouthed bellhop who has a different name every time you ask.]

Freakishly overdressed. Like always.

Thank you. Please, tell me when you're about to start. Give a countdown, perhaps?

Nah. It's already runnin', boss.

[March's jaw tenses, his eyes have a glint. This is not the look of a happy boss. But it passes as quickly as it's there, replaced with a charming smile that comes across as completely genuine.]

Hello. My name is James Patrick March, and this is my hotel. [He gestures around, looks up.] The Hotel Castile. I've been extremely honored to meet many of you, and am positive there are many more I've yet to meet I would be just as honored by. On that note, any imPort who finds themselves in need of a place to stay in our fair city of Maurtia Falls will be granted half off any room here they'd like, standing offer as long as I captain this ship.

[His smile falls a bit, indicating a switch of topic to something more serious. And as March speaks, the video function slowly zooms in, first on his cravat, then over his head to focus on an EMERGENCY EXIT sign. March continues to speak, obviously unaware his camera man is such a little shit.]

Recently, I've come to realize there are quite a few in our population like myself. Like the people I know. I make no secret that I am a ghost, but ghosts were not all that haunted the hallways of my home. Ghosts, those beautiful creatures who needed blood to survive, witches, psychics, we had a little bit of everything! And, damn it all, I do miss it. So I would like to offer a more personal invitation to all you fantastic, lovely folks who fall into those other categories. Room and board, food and drink, simple conversation, name it, we pride ourselves on discretion and confidentiality here, and I've rather a craving to add familiarity into that list.

[The camera moves about to literally anything that is not March — it takes an interest in two women coming out of the elevator, in staff going about their business, anything happening behind him so it doesn't appear obvious that March is not really in this picture.]

I believe that was all I had to address today. Hm?

S'all you told me, Jimjam.

Charming — cut it, won't you?

Yep.

[Except...he doesn't. Not immediately, anyway, the Network is treated to a good twenty seconds of one of the staff on break eating a sandwich. Nothing really fascinating, but there are some men who simply should not be trusted to record literally anything.

ooc. if it's your first time interacting with jpm please visit his permissions thank you!]

Comments

video

[catchacold]

Loving your camera man, Jimjam.

[One has to praise talent wherever it can be found.]

Great eye for detail.

[idesof]

[Hrm. He takes a moment, looking as if this is a very serious offense.]

How naughty has he been with his camera work using a scale of one to eleven?

[catchacold]

Naughty? Depends on in what vein, but in most of them, pretty low down.

[Not peepshow material.]

Nice sandwich though. Made me hungry.

[idesof]

Our chef makes a turkey melt that is to die for — and I'm fairly impartial about turkey in the first place.

[come get a peepshow yourself, cold]

[catchacold]

So.

In order for you to eat it, does it have to be stabbed first?

[He'll just go ahead and ask directly.]

My ghost knowledge is limited to movies.

[idesof]

Only if that is what you request. [He smiles, not at all offended or put off by the question.] I haven't seen many movies, not in a long time. I died before the talkies took off.

[catchacold]

And they don't sell tickets to ghosts?

[It's an honest question.]

It's not the same without stale popcorn.

[idesof]

I couldn't say. I wasn't able to leave the building I died in.

[how sad]

[catchacold]

Seems constricting. Good thing it was a hotel and not a garden shed.

[idesof]

[He blinks. That's a horrific thought, sir, and he knows horror so congratulations.]

Yes.

[Imagining that is enough to give a ghost a heart attack. Oh wait.]

My good fortune to be a businessman, not a gardener.

[catchacold]

True. Though you might have a nice tan.

[Upsides to the gardening business, as far as he can tell.]

How does one become a ghost? because I imagine it wouldn't be everyone, seems like it'd get crowded.

[idesof]

First, you must die. [Like duh.] Most who roam the halls of the Cortez have some unfinished business in life that allowed them to linger. Others were so neglected that they could not move on. Others chose it.

[catchacold]

They always have that line, unfinished business. I wouldn't ever guess that this many people got their shit together.

[He's killed people mid-sentence, how does that rate?]

Which one was it for you?

[idesof]

Me? I've always assumed the hotel couldn't stand to be alone and brought me back to keep.

[It's because, presumably, he's an evil sumbitch who deserves to be stuck in ghosthood forever.]

[catchacold]

Huh, really? How very Shining of you. [He figures he won't get the reference, but he also doesn't care that much. The chance was there, he had to take it.]

So, your hotel just came here with you or did you find a new one?

[idesof]

[His hotel in California has Shining carpet. Literally ripped out of the movie. Yep.]

The Cortez did not, regrettably. I was left to care for this building and I have redecorated it. Elevated it from humble origins! I do not have the same budget in this world I had as a young man to create something anew.

[catchacold]

[What a rip-off.

Ha.]

Finite number of silver spoons going around, huh?

You need any more pieces, for decoration? Maybe we can get into business.

[idesof]

[ohohoho]

Oh yes? Do you paint?

[catchacold]

Just a pretty picture sometimes.

So, no. But I'm in the business of acquisition and retrieval, for all kinds of items of interest.

Especially ones hard to obtain. Here's my card.

[idesof]

Oh! [A shock of delight; March's laugh that follows is warm and mirthful.] How novel. My goodness, I may absolutely give you a call.

[catchacold]

I felt branding myself would help. Not a fan of the government doing it.

Looking forward to your call.

[idesof]

No, a man should always be the one to speak for himself. His word is worth everything. [Including life and death, of course.] A pleasure making your acquaintance.