The UZB Hotel

"Hm... okay!" The Alchemist wobbles to the elevator, bumping against the janitor, who then mumbles in irritation. As he approaches the elevator, it dings, and the doors slide open. He gives a backhanded wave as he enters the elevator, and the doors slide to a close. It appears he is done for the day.

 

I have installed a miniature rift at the bottom of your Hotel Uz branded complimentary ThermoPro mug^tm^patent pending. the other end of the rift is connected directly to our Thrice-Decayed Uzbooze barre.

 

"woah this is awesome, time to make my alcoholism worse"

 

The Swashbuckler raises a single eyebrow, continuing to look at her drink rather than the Faithful. She takes a sip before responding.
"Whispers from a time before time would tell you that the Architect created all we have today. Were it not for her, we wouldn't be here. None of this would."
She sets down her drink, and a mechanical centipede crawls out from under one of her various articles of clothing, down her arm, and to the glass. She seems to pay it no mind.
"I might add, 'worship' is rather a strong term for my preference. Short of your blind reverence, I merely believe the Architect to be the most righteous of all the terrible deities what govern this world."
The centipede produces some blue powder, which it places on the surface of the drink, and mixes it thoroughly. It then crawls back up the Swashbuckler's sleeve.
"Barkeep! You serve the mildest Pink Devil I've ever had. A tip - don't be so stingy with the Wrilt Powder, if you put any in at all."

 

[not a hoodie, more of a cloak]
"I'll take a normal room."

 

"Alright, right this way." *I guide you into the elevator and take you to the 43d floor, where I give you a key for room 43-56. Inside is:

• A large bedroom with a king bed, a couch with a pullout cot, a closet with some hangers and a safe inside, a desk with a large lamp, a tv remote, and a analog telephone on it, a television on the opposing wall, a window with those weird fabric curtains that open to reveal a despicable horror, a minifridge, a kettle on top of it, and some magazines and pamphlets. The blankets are a bit tight, and there is an Uzb cookie on the pillow. The lightswitch is mildly inconveniently placed.
• A bathroom with a mirrored door leading into it, with a shower with horrible water pressure and 2147802 different knobs that only goes hot once you turn it off thrice and give it a drop of blood, a cupboard full of fluffy washcloths, 3 large towels on a hook, a mirror above the sink, ANOTHER foldable bendy armed mirror next to the hairdryer, a bunch of mildly fancy complimentary cosmetics, a camera, and a plunger.
• A door to the adjoining room. You hear faint screams through it.
• The tv has guy fieri show playing. It is unclear how to change the channel or turn off the thing.

 

The Faithful’s expression is as passive as ever as he stares into the Swashbuckler’s gaze.

Slowly, he unpins the corgi medallion on his coat, taking it and running his fingers alongside its battered sides. The corgi’s paws, made of tiny jagged metal bits, gleam in the lamp-light. For a moment, you notice a slight impression along the edge - almost as if it had once been pressed forcefully into another object.

“Creation is one thing. Existence is another. Perhaps the Anathème truly did - I do not doubt the scale of its power. But why did it create us, I ask? For our lives to be thrown away by the trillions for its games of conquest? To become toys, living pawns in its petty schemes?”

He sets the medallion back on the table, and for a split second, you notice a tiny spot of faded maroon on the corgi’s claw.

“Of all the gods, only one has ever chosen to protect us. Joseph.”

 

"Would you like a refill? You really seem to need it, " I say to the faithful.

 

Does anyone require anything? This is the daily call for requests. If you are waiting for something and dont mention it now, like a room or a drink, do not act impatient later

 

The Swashbuckler seems, now, rather determined to not look at the Faithful while conversing with him. The nonchalant façade begins to fade. A little.
"Were it not for the meddling of the Engineer, the Hive, your god Joseph, none of this would have come to pass. The Architect breathed life into this world, and would have been content to allow it to remain a peaceful one, were it not for the interference of these gods. This was not a game of conquest until they came along and made it one. Is it so wrong of the Architect to attempt to reclaim what belongs to it, and to restore the just balance of the world?"

 

During the argument, the Spirit has been sitting quietly nearby, sipping his drink. As the fight continues, he grows more and more agitated, before finally appearing to snap and head over to the table.

"Look, I don't know how long we're going to be in here for" he says angrily, "But I don't want to spend the whole time listening to a debate about who's diety isn't actively trying to destroy the world, or whatever it is you two are arguing about. So can you just find a way to get along? I'm sure everyone else in the room will thank you for it"

 

We have many other amenities and activities to enjoy, if you do not wish to listen to this argument, you may easily retire to a secondary bar, a library, or a games room. However, If you do not choose to do so, I cannot control what my customers say.

 

“So you may claim,” the Faithful retorts, “and yet the truth stands. It is known that the Anathème first struck back against its rival gods with a tempest so great that millions died as their homes and shelters were crushed by the winds, then froze millions more as it moved the very world to fit its hunger for power. Joseph has brought naught of strife but justice for those that have rightfully abused their power. Of them all, only he is deserving of worship.”

 

"Perfect."

 

let me know if you require anything else. The Rift provides. i make a gesture