2020-01-22 - Three Word Hunt

Elias had spent the evening with Dante, having brought over some food, and they shared some wine, but not a lot of wine because Elias wasn't planning on spending the night. He had an early shipment coming in in the morning, and none of his regular clerks were going to be there to accept it. Occasionally, he did have a few responsibilities to look after. So it had been with a fond kiss farewell that he had begun the descent back down from the apartment, and the journey back to his own home.

Somewhere between the elevator and home, however, things changed, and he found himself once more standing in the lobby, though it wasn't the lobby of Dante's apartment building anymore. It was the lobby of a hotel, old, fine, elegant, and very definitely not something that one would find in Gray Harbor.

Dante, as well, perhaps crossed from the living room to the bedroom, or stepped into the bathroom for just a moment, but the next door that he opens finds himself in a suite inside the same elegant hotel, and not at all his familiar rooms at Bayside.

They say that doorways act as transitions in more than the literal sense. There's been studies about crossing a threshold and forgetting why you came into a room. It's a recorded phenomenon. What's not? What just happened when Dante crossed into his office to put some books away. He stumble-steps forward, looks around, frowns. "Bloody hell. I was having such a nice evening, too. Well I suppose it could be worse," he murmurs to himself. "...could be a fantasy forest or terrifying moors." He starts to investigate his current surroundings, to try and situate himself in the Dream.

The suite that Dante finds himself in as well appointed with heavy dark wood furniture with cream colored cushions and the decor is in an elegant slate blue gilt with gold in a way that speaks of old world elegance, but not too much opulence. There comes a knock at the door of the suite, a gentle rap-rap followed by silence.

Elias stands in the lobby of the hotel and takes a look around, surveying his surroundings and the people who come and go around him. They're all dressed to the nines, in fine suits and gowns, from the early 1900s, and he too finds himself in similar attire. With a little quirk of a smile, he decides to explore a bit, heading toward the lounge, where he finds the bar. Though once he arrives, there's a tap on his shoulder and a server hands him a small white card with simply written upon it in script "The pleasure of your company is requested for the celebration to take place in Ballroom A".

The hairs on the back of Dante's neck stand up. He's not had any Dreams that were benign or entertaining, so he's primed for horror and violence. He hears the rap on the door, then searches the room until he finds a heavy gilt candlestick holder. He plucks out the handle, hefts its weight, then moves towards the door. He stands the way he's seen people stand in movies, with his body tilted, arm behind him. He swallows, and opens the door a small crack.

Outside, in the hall, a snappily dressed bellhop stands with a white card in his hand, which he slips through the crack in the door and offers to Dante wordlessly. It bears the same message as the one given to Elias downstairs. The bellhop says a pleasant, "Good evening, sir!" And then, either leaves the card tucked into the crack of the door, or hands it to Dante, before turning and continuing on down the hall to knock on other doors one might presume.

Dante takes the card, but he does so while still primed to defend himself. He eyes the card, frowns a little. But if there's one thing he's started to learn about Dreams is that it's safer to play along. Generally. Or that refusing to play along might mean it never lets you out. So, still holding the candlestick, he emerges into the hallway, looking for signage that might lead him towards said ballroom.

Once out into the hallway, there are signs that direct one to the other guestrooms, with ascending numbers in one direction, descending numbers in the other, and then arrows toward the stairwells and the elevators. The halls are relatively devoid of people, though the bellhop can be seen knocking on a door further down and handing out another card. Dante finds himself unaccosted, and largely unnoticed for the moment.

It's a good thing no one's paying attention, because Dante would probably be out of place otherwise in his thoroughly modern suit wielding a candlestick. He moves down the hallway cautiously, pondering elevator or stairs before ultimately choosing elevator. He wrings his hands around the candlestick, jaw tightening.

One of the elevators opens and once Dante steps inside he is greeted by the elevator operator, an elderly man in his late sixties in a clean, neat, uniform, who asks "What floor, sir?" The elevator is otherwise empty. There are some twenty floors, including the Lobby and Mezzanine.

Dante startles a bit at spotting the man. But he steps on cautiously. He holds the candlestick a little more loosely. Don't mind him. Just taking a candlestick for a walk. "Whatever floor Ballroom A is on," he says a bit stiffly, then stands as far away from the elevator operator as the confined space will let him.

The elevator operator is a consummate professional and thus he does not even glance at the candlestick at all. Instead he nods and says, "Very good, sir." He presses the button for the Mezzanine level, and the elevator doors close. It begins to descend. The man doesn't move from where he stands, merely watching the needle tick down the floors until they reach the Mezzanine. Then, the doors open and he says, "The Mezzanine level, Sir. The Ballrooms are to your left. Have a pleasant evening."

"Thank you," says Dante a bit tightly, a bit dismissively. He steps out of the elevator, still very tense and wielding the candlestick. He walks with purpose, but also paranoia in the direction of said ballroom. He doesn't know what he's going to find there, but all of his experience with Dreams tells him nothing good.

As Dante makes his way toward the Ballrooms he can see that they are clearly labeled with signs indicating that the first Grand Ballroom is Ballroom A, and then that Ballroom B and C are further down one hall, with Ballroom D down another short hallway. As he is perusing the sign for the ballrooms, he feels a gentle tap at the back of his left shoulder.

Dante is too busy examining the signs so he doesn't feel someone come up behind him. He startles at the tap and spins around wielding the candlestick, but not striking out. His reflexes aren't that good.

Elias takes a step back and raises both hands when Dante spins around and is wielding a candlestick. He raises both brows and says, "Easy there, slugger. It's just me." He holds up the white card between two fingers that has the invitation on it, the same as Dante's, a little smile ticking up the edges of his lips. "It seems that we've both been waylaid this evening."

Dante lowers the candlestick. "Oh, thank god. Not that I'm glad you got sucked into this thing as well, but obviously I'm out of my element." He eyes the card and nervously tosses the candlestick between his hands. "So what do you think? Hotel California? The Shining? What kind of horrors are in for us in that ballroom?"

Elias takes a step closer then, once the candlestick is no longer being brandished, and leans in to bump shoulders with him. "Well, you're in this one with me, so whatever happens, we'll get through it together, hm?" He seems not at all concerned, but then, Elias has a habit of facing all of these things with a degree of fearlessness until proven otherwise. "No telling. Let's go and find out, shall we?" He nods in the direction of the ballroom, where an attendant is taking the invitations from those who arrive.

"You'll get through it, I'm certain. I might just go on startling at shadows and wielding housewares." Dante's tension hasn't really lessened since running into Elias. He files in with the others and produces his card when prompted, even though he's clearly antsy about the whole thing.

The attendant at the door takes their invitations and then nods for them to make their way inside, not even batting an eyelash at the candlestick. Elias gives the attendant a pleasant smile as he hands over his invitation and then lightly rubs Dante's arm with his fingertips. "Well, at least you're armed,a and with something solid and weighty. Good choice." He seems to approve.

Inside the ballroom, tables seem to have been arranged in a large U shape before a stage which descends toward the open space before them, as though some sort of performance might be set up to occur. The tables themselves are bedecked with Moroccan lanterns and lavish place settings, centerpieces rich with blues and bronzes and greens, and the entire room seems to have been done up with ice sculptures depicting all manner of mythological creatures. Elias leads them over toward a pair of seats with small placards with their names on them.

"Dante Taylor in the ballroom with the candlestick," murmurs the writer as they move inwards. He takes in the room a bit wide-eyed, then leans in close to Elias. "So what...do you think is going on here? Surely the creepy forces at work didn't pull us in here just to give us dinner and a show." Of course, the horror writer is thinking up worst-case scenarios related to this setup.

"I try not to anticipate what is going to happen, and instead just embrace whatever does, and roll with it," Elias admits as he settles into his seat. "We can decide what to do when we see what's on the menu for the evening." Other guests, all in their fancy dinner attire seem to be filtering in and taking their seats around the table, making themselves comfortable, and servers begin to appear, pouring wine into the wine glasses. "Though one never knows. Human sacrifice? Bizarre ritual? Birthday Party of the Damned?" he offers as potential options.

"None of that is reassuring, dear," murmurs Dante. He looks around the room. "For once I'm feeling underdressed. Now I know this is a nightmare." A toothy grin. He eyes the wine glass suspiciously. Everything's suspicious. And he's still got the damned candleholder.

Elias reaches over for the candleholder and gently gives it a little tug. If Dante releases it, he gently sets it on the table between them as though it belonged right there with the centerpiece, and takes Dante's hand instead. "Well, you were the one who was taking it the horror route. I was just going along for the ride," he murmurs. A couple sits down on either side of them. On the one side, a young couple who seem to be on their honeymoon, if the way that they stare moon-eyed at one another is to be believed, paired with the shiny new wedding rings. To their other side, an older couple, the man seeming to be hard of hearing, his wife constantly leaning over to speak directly into his ear. Elias leans back in his chair, draping one arm over the back casually, and reaches for a glass of wine, lifting it and giving it a sniff.

Dante lets go of the security blanket reluctantly, but at least it's still where he can see if it things go down. "I always take things the horror route. That really is what I do." He entwines his fingers with Elias and squeezes perhaps a bit harder than he should. "I really am quite naive when it comes to these things. I don't understand how you're not in a panic as well."

The candlestick is within easy arm's reach. He wouldn't even have to lean forward to pick it up again. Elias isn't cruel. He'll leave Dante his security blanket. His own gaze is taking in the people who are taking their seats, the servers moving around the room, and watching as the lights begin to flicker and dim, just slightly, setting the ambience. There's a string quartet that sets up near the stage, each player in a long black dress or black suit, each instrument gleaming. And when the music begins to play, it has a deep and sonorous quality to it that seems to fill the space. It's beautiful, really.

He gives Dante's fingers a firm squeeze in return and lifts his hand, kissing the back of it gently and looking up at him with dark eyes, "Because panic is what they want. And I refuse to give them what they want without them having to at least work for it."

This is probably the first time in his life that Dante has been offered a nice glass of wine and he hasn't at least sipped. He's quite still and quite quiet, fingers flexing against Elias'. In another time and place, he'd enjoy the music, but he's really just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tries to smile, but it's sort of a flickering expression. "I'm afraid I can't help but be unintentionally cooperative on that point," he murmurs.

"I know," Elias says reassuringly to him, "And it's understandable. But we have no idea what is about to happen, so I'm going to reserve my panic until something panic-worthy occurs." And if he could will some calm to Dante, he would, but that's really not his area of expertise. And so he settles on just holding his hand.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we have gathered you together tonight to celebrate the First Annual Convergence of Nascent Aspirers. Tonight, we have prepared a feast of delicacies for you all to partake, and then a bit of entertainment, and finally, at the end of the night, we shall offer you the opportunity to choose from a selection of desserts that will truly expand your minds." With that, the announcer, a man dressed in a tuxedo, withdraws, and a pair of dancers take the stage. The music takes on something of an ethereal quality, and the dancers, dressed in violet tulle ballerina outfits, two lovely girls with dark hair wound atop their heads in tight buns, begin to move gracefully across the stage.

As this happens, the first course is set, a bowl of soup that smells of a heavenly rich creamy broth filled with bits of vegetable and small pieces of chicken with just a hint of spice. Elias picks up a spoon and lifts it, smelling the soup, and then takes a spoonful.

Dante sort of stares at Elias as he eats the offered food. "Maybe it's because I have an overpriced classical education, but is it a good idea to eat or drink anything here? I'm reminded of several myths about consuming food whilst in the underworld." He watches the dancers like he expects them to pull shivs out of their buns. "Mind-expanding desserts sounds like drugs." He really is the worst date to bring to a haunted hotel banquet.

"Oh, no, it's never a good idea to eat things here," Elias says with a slight shake of his head. "You're wise not to, really. But I did eat a popsicle from an ice cream truck not too long ago and came out no worse for wear so.. I just wanted to see." He tilts his head and says, "It tastes.. not like it smells. I don't recommend it." He doesn't take another bite, instead looking over toward the dancers. "It does, indeed, sound like drugs. I'm going to advise we don't partake of those, either."

"This place is already enough of a trip without adding actual mind-altering substances to the mix." Dante isn't worried about seeming rude for not touching his food. So far, no one has reacted to him like he's doing anything weird, so he'll keep on with that. He does lean over to give the soup an experimental sniff before straightening.

Thus far, the party seems to go on around them as though nothing at all were amiss. There are others who are partaking of the food, and if Dante observes closely some of the other guests -- there are those who are also not partaking at all, much like he is. Though there are few that seem quite as nervous as he is. Perhaps they know something that he doesn't? Or perhaps they're all fools, soon to be unpleasantly surprised.

The dancers do not pull shivs from their buns, nor do they suddenly turn into terrible violent creatures. Instead, they dance beautifully, and around them weaves a kind of haze, a sort of sparkling ephemeral mist that is dotted with sparkles of starlight. It's quite a beautiful light show, truth be told, and there's a smattering of applause around the table when the dancers come together and spin, and part once more.

Elias doesn't partake of any more of the food, having satisfied his curiosity. Instead, he watches as one course is taken away, and another is set before them. The soup does smell delicious when Dante smells it, but soon it is gone, and there is more food being set before them. There's a salad course, and an entree that seems to be some sort of roast meat with vegetables, though what it is is entirely unidentifiable. Elias doesn't touch that, either.

About halfway through the meal, a woman dressed in a ball gown with a basket approaches each guest and informs them that they are to select one envelope from within. The envelopes are a dizzying array of colors, each one no larger than a playing card. "Pick one for each of us," Elias tells Dante.

Under different circumstances, Dante might even be enjoying himself. He quite enjoys watching dancing. But a banquet with food that could be absolutely anything, with a strange array of guests? Not so much. He continues to be tense and uncomfortable, looking to Elias now and again. When the cards come and Elias tells him to pick one for each of them, he looks a little startled. "No presssure," he murmurs. But he does so, reaching for the least flashy cards. He hands a pale pink one to Elias, and keeps a pale yellow one for himself.

Elias smiles a little crookedly at Dante when he says no pressure, and accepts his pale pink envelope, taking it between two fingers and asking the woman, "Do we open them now or are we to save them for later?"

She says, "You may open them whenever you like before dessert," and then she's off, wandering through the other guests until everyone has taken one of the small envelopes. Some people appear to be opening them right away while others tuck them to one side for later.

Elias opens his. Let's be honest, patience is not his virtue, and it takes a force of will that he just doesn't feel like exerting at the moment. The white card within contains the words: Blush, Rose, and Kiss in a soft pink script.

When Dante gets around to opening his, the words are in a gold script and read: Coin, Gold, and Envy

Elias turns the card over in his fingertips but the other side is blank. "Interesting," he says, and then tucks it into the pocket of his jacket. "I suppose we'll see what we are to do with these."

"This is all very unsettling," says Dante in a relatively flat tone as he looks at his own card. He's very much following Elias' lead in this whole endeavor, so he opened his around the same time. He flicks the corner of the card, then turns it so Elias can see it. "Yours seems more innocent than mine. Mine's got a deadly sin on it." He cracks the barest hint of a smile, then looks around the room to make note of who is opening and who ferrets theirs away.

"Mine could be, or it could be an expression of Lust, and thus we've both got deadly sins," Elias says, though he doesn't seem particularly concerned whether that's the case either way. He does glance over Dante's and then looks around the room. A woman with a peacock blue envelope looks at her card and frowns just slightly, while a gentleman with a deep orange envelope raises both eyebrows at the contents of his own. Curiosity gets the better of Elias and he leans over toward the couple sitting to one side of them and asks, "What words did you get?"

The older woman shows her card to them, which came in a deep green envelope: Spring, Clover, Luck and the gentleman shows his, which came in a pale grey envelope: Mourning, Dove, Clouds

"Hmm," he says, "I wonder if it's some sort of game."

The dinner plates are cleared away and the performance shifts to something purely musical for a bit, and the floor between the tables is opened up to dancing. Elias takes that time to lean in against Dante's shoulder and take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "All dreams are unsettling, but aren't even your regular dreams usually strange? They seem 'normal' while you're in them, because things just are as they are, and it's usually only on waking that you realize how strange they really are."

Dante props up his little card on the table, against the stem of his full wine glass. There's been a tension in his jaw that has been slowly growing since they arrived. The initial burst of adrenaline that had him grabbing at a candlestick has shifted into a general sense of unease. "How long do these things generally take to end? Most of the ones I've been involved in have been relatively brief. But I've heard that these things can...linger." His grip on Elias' hand is rather firm. Not to the point of pain, but certainly tight.

Elias lets his thumb brush over the back of Dante's hand and shakes his head, "There's no telling. Sometimes, they have a story that ends. Sometimes there seems to be a purpose to them. Sometimes they just.. go.." He smiles a little bit apologetically. "I wish I had a better answer for you." And while the revelry goes on around them, he stays with Dante.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and Everyone In Between," comes the voice of the woman who had handed out the cards earlier in the evening. "The time has come for our dessert course, and while we do have a selection of sweets for you to sample -- we have one last additional entertainment for you. Each of you chose a card tonight, and on your card you have been given the seeds of a scavenger hunt of sorts. But this is no ordinary scavenger hunt. You won't know the rules until the game begins, and the game doesn't begin until after you leave. This way, you will continue on the celebration even after the night is through. So please, join us for one last dance, partake of the confections that ew have prepared, and share a bit of the euphoria of the evening, before retiring to your rooms for one last night at The Hotel before your journey home."

And just like that, the room shifts and the entirety of it has become a kind of dance floor with small tables festooned with desserts, small confections in a rainbow variety of colors and flavors. The music takes on the quality of a waltz, and most of the guests move about the floor as a sort of hazy violet mist seems to seep and roll across the floor as though someone had turned on a dry ice machine.

Elias gently tugs Dante's hand and says, "I think that's our cue that we can slip out, or at least begin a strategic retreat." He starts to move toward the doors that they had entered into the ballroom through.

If Dante was thrown before, he's even more thrown by the shift. And the haze. No good ever comes from haze. "It's rather terrifying not knowing what is playing with you, and why." But he's quite convinced there's a game afoot. He looks relieved when Elias tugs his hand towards the door rather than insisting on a hazy dance. "Do you...think I'm being silly? Being as spooked as I am by all of this? You must have experienced dozens of these scenarios, if not more." And then, he leans in to murmur, "Are any of these other people...real? I don't know Gray Harbor residents well, but I don't recognize anyone."

"No, I don't think that you're being silly at all," Elias says with a shake of his head and another squeeze of the hand in his. He doesn't seem any more inclined to stay than Dante is, though whether that's because of Dante's unease or not is perhaps unclear. He tries the doors, and they open, and he pushes his way out into the hall.

Once there, one of the attendants at the door looks surprised and says, "Are you not going to stay for the rest of the party?"

"No," Elias says, "We've a scavenger hunt to begin, after all, and I have someone that I need to make blush," all without missing a beat. The smile that he gives the attendant is full of mischief, though Dante knows him well enough to know it's more feigned than genuine.

"Have a good evening, gentleman," the attendant says, clearly satisfied enough with that answer not to hinder their progress.

Once out of earshot of the attendants Elias says, "Honestly, I couldn't tell you. No one looked specifically familiar, so they could be real and from somewhere else, or real and someone I haven't met, or not real and dream constructs entirely."

"Simulacra. Doppelgangers. This really is Hotel California. Hotel Washington?" Dante attempts a bit of a sing-song in his voice but comes up a bit short. "I do hope the end line of that song doesn't prove prophetic." Then he leans in to Elias. "Do you think we need to make the things on the card happen in order to be released from this place? They seem rather vague." And then, a murmur, "I'm also pretty shit at games."

Elias chuckles just a little bit at the attempt at a song, and then he says, "I have no idea, to be honest. She mentioned something about spending one last night at the hotel before we depart. I am thinking we either a) just try walking out the front door and see what happens, and/or b) go find out where our rooms are and attempt to go to sleep, and see if sleeping in the dream wakes us up. Those are my two brilliant plans." He chuckles. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Isn't it a bad idea to not play along? What if there's some kind of penalty for not playing their game?" Dante keeps his voice down and leans in close to Elias with a searching look. "But I'm up for trying to leave. We could claim we're going on a scavenger hunt outside? I think I like that better than trying to sleep in this odd place. I doubt I could, in any case. Especially not alone."

"Well, I never said that you had to sleep alone, just that we should figure out where our rooms are," Elias says with a little sidelong smile that is far more genuine than his earlier one to the attendant. Then he says, "I tend to play by my own rules, and only if doing so generates an adverse affect do I course-correct, to be honest." And with that, he heads toward the stairs that lead down the one flight to the lobby, bypassing the elevator since it's only a single floor. "Like when I met Sparrow in that Pleasantville dream, it was really only when it was clear that what I was doing was causing severe distress to not only the dream construct, but the other actual real people in the dream, that I gave it up and just went with it. But we did very clearly affect it. So, let's just walk on out the door and see what happens."

"I materialized up in my room. A posh affair." And that's coming from Mr. Posh. "Appeared. Was tugged into this place. However it works." Dante eyes the door, clutches more tightly to Elias' hand. He's fairly certain this isn't going to work. That would be too easy. And he has too little experience with Dreams to know that sometimes people do fall out of these scenarios as easily as they fall into them. He trusts Elias, so he follows his lead.

Elias gives the door a solid push and while they do indeed walk out through the door they find themselves walking right out of the lobby to end up right back in it. "Well," Elias says with a chuckle, "That's not entirely unexpected."

Dante sighs deeply, lifts one arm and then lets it drop. "It really is bloody Hotel California. I could really use some pink champagne right about now." He looks around the lobby. "Do we have another option other than letting our guards down entirely and trying to fall asleep?" He uses the hand not holding Elias' to straighten his suit. It's something he's apt to do when he's feeling flat-footed.

"Crawl through the air ducts?" Elias offers, though not entirely seriously. "I'm open to suggestions if you have any. I mean, we could just find a deck of cards and play until the evening runs out, or they get bored with us and let us go." He then glances over toward the hotel lounge and says, "We could try the pink champagne, but generally speaking, it is probably a bad idea to eat and drink things in Dreams. I've only done it a few times, myself."

"Let me rephrase. I would like pink champagne from the real world that isn't going to be cursed to keep us here forever like something out of a Greek myth." Dante looks around the lobby and manages one of his toothy smiles back at Elias. "I'm not in my duct crawling pants. I'd split me trousers."

"Well then, no duct crawling," Elias chuckles. "We could go back to the party and go dancing in the purple fog machine?" He flashes a grin at Dante, knowing just how much he'll like /that/ idea. "We could.." he looks around for a moment and then considers. "I guess we could try out the scavenger hunt and see if we can find some of the things on our list... and see what happens."

"How do we search for 'envy'? Or 'blush'? Is it going to be under a potted plant? Coin and gold might be doable. I mean, the bloody candleholder was gold. But envy? Hang on..." Dante looks around. "There is one way to tell if we're supposed to be searching for the items on the card. One of your items was kiss, yes?" He leans in towards Elias to kiss softly and gently.

"Well, I think envy you could find by making someone envious, and blush by making someone blush, perhaps? Or a blush wine? Or something that you envy? I.. don't know? This game didn't really come with any rules," Elias points out with a little bit of a laugh. "Yes, it d.." Elias starts to say when Dante leans in to kiss him, and he can't help but smile against the man's lips, kissing them back, softly in return. "Even if that doesn't work, you can keep doing that any time you like." But he does pull the little card from his pocket, and sure enough, the word "Kiss" now has a little pink check mark next to it.

Dante's eyebrows go up at the checkmark. "Well. That's...something. I suppose? But the problem with some of these items is, well, it requires the reaction of others. Which means we should probably stick around the creepy maybe-people instead of retreating to the room to poke at items until we can check them off." He eyes the staircase that leads to the ballroom level, then back at Elias. "Pretty sure the candlestick I left on the table was gold. Maybe brass. But the table disappeared. I suppose we could go back up to the room to see if it's got a sister." Now that they have a goal he's...well, not relaxed, but has some focus.

"Lead the way," Elias says with a smile, glad to see Dante at least focused on something enough to not quite be so incredibly tense. Sure, it hasn't resolved the issue, but at least they have some goal and something that they are working toward. "There has to be a rose somewhere up there, and I'm pretty sure we could find a coin pretty easily as well."

"Something tells me that at least one item on each of our cards is likely to be a bit trickier. These things don't tend to let people off easy, do they?" Dante smiles a little. It's tense, but not quite so coiled and afraid. "Maybe I'm imagining what I'd write in a scenario like this. And it certainly wouldn't involve a happy ending. Hazards of being a horror writer." He heads towards the elevator.

Elias follows along, tucking the card back into his pocket for the moment. He chuckles a little and says, "That does seem to be one of the side-effects of writing horror, is having the imagination to think of all the possible horrific scenarios that might be played out." When they step into the elevator, the attendant takes them back to the mezzanine level. It's not difficult to get back into the party since the attendant who had commented on their departure seems just as pleased to allow them access back in again. The room is now filled with that kind of purple haze and lights flicker all over, twinkling fairy lights as music plays and people dance, and partake of the myriad desserts.

"Not only worst-case scenarios, but the most ironic and fitting. And unexpectedly horrifying. So I'm probably the worst person to be caught up in these sorts of things. I'm probably imagining worse things than this place has in store." Which remains to be seen. With all that in mind, Dante doesn't look very comfortable being back in the room. He looks around to see if he can see any trace of his security blanket, aka the candlestick. If not, then he's on the lookout for anything goldish or coin-ish. "Oh," he says after a moment. "...don't suppose you've got anything in your pockets?"

"Oh no, you did not just say that," Elias says when Dante says that he is probably imagining worse things than this place has in store. "Do /not/ issue that sort of challenge." And he actually looks a little bit more serious than usual about that. The candlestick seems to have vanished along with the dining tables, centerpieces, and the stage. Elias pauses and pats the pockets of his Edwardian suit which he hadn't been wearing when he'd left Dante's apartment. He pulls out the little card and envelope, but comes up empty of anything else. "No, unfortunately. I've got nothing."

"Blast. I knew it wouldn't be so simple." Both to the coin and the lack of a candlestick. "What do you think? Any ideas for the other words?" He skims around the room, trying to spot anything of the rose variety, or anything golden at all. That includes on the lapels of the dancersas well as the decor. He says no more on tempting the dark things.

There are plenty of golden things in the room, from bits and pieces of people's outfits and jewelry, to some of the desserts on the trays that might have some gold leaf on them. Feathers in some ladies' hair to pins, broaches, cufflinks, and fillings in one or two flashed smiles. Likewise, there are plenty of roses to be found depending on whether one is seeking an actual bloom, the color, or the shape. From confections and decorations to fresh flowers on a boutonniere or corsage here and there. Coins are a little more difficult to find laying around in the open, but then, that's not entirely surprising. One doesn't leave one's treasure just lying about, after all.

Dante eyes the room, then looks back to Elias. "Do we...divide and conquer? Separating might be a mistake, in a place that can change layout at will." Regardless of their strategy, he's going to go for the nearest gold, which just happens to be a dessert with gold leaf on it He flashes the passing server with one of those charming smiles of his. "I'll have this one. Cheers." And then, he'll try to peel up a bit of leaf, checking his card as he does.

As soon as Dante takes the dessert with the gold leaf, a little check mark appears on his card next to the word Gold, and it appears that he has successfully collected one of his items. Elias follows along nearby and plucks another off the tray that is in the form of a rosette, to find that the Rose on his own card now bears a check mark. "It seems that we've got the hang of this. Let's see if we can find you a coin." He then turns to a gentleman nearby and asks, "Excuse me, sir, but you wouldn't happen to have any change on you would you? A penny, perhaps?" The man pats himself down and shakes his head, "Sorry, no."

Dante starts to raise his finger with the icing up to his lips, tongue extended to lick it off. But then he remembers he really shouldn't be eating anything, so he finds a napkin to rub it off on instead. He looks around the room a bit sheepishly. He's watching people, watching to see if anyone might have some kind of decorative coin on a chain around their neck or something of the like. "Don't suppose you saw a payphone in the lobby we could root around in?"

"I honestly wasn't looking for one, so I didn't notice. But since this place appears to be in the 1900s, I'm thinking it might be unlikely but.. it's also a dream, so it's possible," Elias says as he tucks the confection into his pocket, not eating it, just folding it into a napkin and carrying it with him for the time being. "Though someone might have tipped the elevator attendant. We could see if he'd be willing to let us borrow a coin. But then again.. we didn't tip the elevator attendant, so maybe that's not the best plan either."

Dante realizes he hasn't actually searched his own pockets. Considering he's actually in his own clothes and not transformed into a suit, he's hopeful he might actually have something. Then again, who uses small coins these days? "I've never looked down at a carpet so much in my life. Probably the only time in history a room this size doesn't have a bit of dropped loose change. Keep an eye out for penny loafers." Hard to tell if he's serious.

Fortunately for Dante, he must have had some coins from something or another, because he does find, in one pocket of his jacket, a single dime. As soon as he locates it and pulls it free, the word Coin on his card now holds a gold check mark next to it.

"Well now. Isn't that a bit of luck." Dante turns the dime over in his fingers. "I haven't been this happy to see a dime since the time I was about to get a ticket at a parking meter after I had lost my wallet." He folds his long fingers around it, and drops it back into his pocket. "What's left? Blush and envy? I've got an idea for those." He catches hold of Elias' hand, then leads them within the circle of maybe-not-people. Then he steps forward, slings a hand around Elias' waist, and leans in to kiss him in a way that's a bit too...lewd for the setting. Maybe two in the morning at a sweaty club, but in this posh ballroom? He slides a hand up along his jaw, and unless there's protest, there's a lot of tongue happening.

"Excellent, that leaves only two left," Elias says, "This was definitely easier to do in this room than it would have been out in the lobby. Probably fortunate that we came back." Then his hand is being caught and he lifts a brow as he is pulled toward the center of the people dancing the waltz in the middle of the ballroom. "Do you?" he asks, because he'd had an idea or two, but those ideas promptly flitter out of his head like little moths set free when Dante lays that kiss on him in the middle of the dancefloor. It's too bad that Elias himself has zero shame, because if he were another man, it might have made \him\ blush. Instead, there is absolutely no protest to the kiss. Indeed, Elias curls his fingers around the back of Dante's neck and meets that kiss just as deeply, a little groan escaping him.

It's a distracting enough kiss that he doesn't immediately notice that the music has stopped, and that the dancers are all looking at them. Though it does register, eventually, and he laughs a little breathlessly when the kiss breaks. The woman who had passed out the little envelopes approaches them rapidly and is all smiles. "Well, well, well, look at that! We have two winners! And before the night is even through! You two /are/ ambitiouns, aren't you! Please, come with me." She motions for them to follow her. "Quickly," she adds somewhat nervously.

Because the rest of the crowd doesn't look happy. Several are pulling out their cards and looking at them in frustration. Others, who had been trying to find their three things, or make them happen, cursing in disgust. The atmosphere of the room is rapidly turning a little less festive.

Someone in the room must be blushing, because they've apparently won this contest. Either that or Dante's slight flush counts for the purposes of the hunt. At first when things go quiet, he's hoping they'll just find themselves back in his flat. But no such luck. Instead, they're surrounded by irate-looking people. "Sorry chaps. Better luck next time?" Nervous laugh. And then there's the woman approaching. "Can our prize be a breath of fresh air? All this fog. Allergies, you know." He clears his throat. He finds Elias' hand again to squeeze.

Elias gives Dante's hand a squeeze in return and is happy to follow the woman in the ballgown out of the room. She leads them out quickly before things get too ugly and as soon as they pass the threshold from the ballroom back into what should be the hall.. they find themselves back in Dante's flat. Though Elias is back in the jeans and sweater he was wearing when he had left the first time, rather than the suit that he had been wearing in the Dream.

The relief on Dante's face is palpable, and it translates to his body. He wasn't aware of how much tension he was holding until they're back in familiar surroundings. He actually doubles over and takes in a few steadying breaths before straightening. "Oh thank god. I had images of us just moving on to the second, more difficult level of Creepy Scavenger Hunt Hotel. Drink? I need a drink." He raises Elias' hand to his mouth to press a kiss, then he crosses to pick up a carafe of red wine. He's thrown off enough that he drinks it from a juice glass. Gasp.

Elias takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly once they are back in Dante's flat and reaches out to lightly rub Dante's back as he doubles over to take those steadying breaths. He then pats his pockets to look for. Nope, no squashed dessert still stowed in his pocket. He smiles at the kiss to his hand and says, "Yes.. I think I need a drink. And I think I'm not going in early tomorrow. Do you mind if I just stay here instead?" He smiles faintly and makes his way over to the wine, which he drinks like a heathen out of whatever Dante decides to pour it into -- the carafe if necessary.

Dante gives the juice glass to Elias, and his gets poured into a (gasp) coffee mug. Sacrelige. But it's not like either of them are savoring oaky notes right now. "Mind? I'd bloody prefer it." He gulps from the wine. "Perks of being the boss, ay?" He smiles, but it's tight. He takes a few steadying breaths. "I do hope we didn't trap some other poor souls in there for all eternity by winning." Things to keep you up at night in Gray Harbor.

Elias doesn't seem to mind the juice glass at all and drinks the wine down with surprising alacrity before setting the glass down again and letting out a little post-Dream sigh. "I don't think about that sort of thing," Elias says with a slight shake of his head. "Much like I don't think about whether they're all real people just from other cities or places where the Veil is thin. I'd never sleep if I worried about all of that. I only worry about the people that I actually recognize and know." He pauses, "Maybe that makes me a callous and terrible person, but it's how I cope."

"And here's me, who's made his career about thinking about all of these unsettling possibilities," says Dante. He takes in another breath and undoes a few buttons at the top of his shirt. "Maybe I should switch to fantasy?" There's another smile, though the difference between a smile he's feeling and one that's more forced is all in his eyes.

"I think about those possibilities in my writing where it won't weigh on my conscience and give me gray hairs," Elias says with a faint smile. "But honestly, I have too much bullshit weirdness to deal with in my day to day, that I can't possibly also be responsible for every other person who goes through the same weirdness. I just can't." He sighs a little and rubs his face with both hands. He does chuckle just a little and says, "Maybe you'd just end up in more forests in leather again."

"At least people don't tend to get eviscerated in the worst possible way imaginable in fantasy? I think I could handle the leather," Dante drawls. He finishes off his cup o'wine and then shrugs off his suit jacket. It gets neatly slung on the back of one of the island chairs. "Do you want to get bloody drunk, or just lie down and try to calm ourselves?"

"Do the two things need to be mutually exclusive?" Elias asks with a little bit of a laugh. "I am thinking a sprawl on the couch, curled up next to you, with the rest of this wine, and then perhaps a crawl off to bed for some hopefully dreamless sleep."