arboreal_priestess | The Carmichael Hotel, Chicago, Saturday Evening (Reply)

Things that did not rank on Verity's list of "top one hundred things to do before you die": steering a large SUV through Chicago rush hour traffic. Horns honked all around them, and their fellow drivers seemed concerned about her education, as they were introducing her to all manner of exciting hand gestures.

Some of them were even new to her. She pointed to one of them. "Look, Liam! We're learning new things."

Look, they'd just gotten married a yesterday. Not even shitty Chicago drivers in the dead of winter could ruin her good mood.

Liam	Liam scowled at the man through his window. He was maybe not quite on Dominic's level of 'Olympic-level scowler', but still... when Liam Kincaid - no, when Liam Kincaid-Price - disapproved of something, you could tell. The man who'd been showing them his fingers seemed to realize he'd made a mistake. His hand went back into his car and hunched over the wheel, shooting small, nervous glances in Liam's direction. "I still don't get how you can find all those vulgar gestures so hilarious," Liam said, as if he weren't also friends with one Beauregard 'Vulgar Gestures' Lionett.
Verity	"Because they're funny, and because if I don't take joy in something right about now, I'll abandon ship and run for the nearest rooftop," Verity said, tightening her hands on the steering wheel. They'd been on the road for days, and Verity was always happiest when she was free to move under her own power. Liam did his fair share of the driving - more than his fair share, really - but Verity felt too guilty to make him drive all of it, since this had basically been her idea. She probably would have driven more, but she both hated driving and was easily distracted by shiny things by the side of the road. It was really a pity that half the time, those distractions meant slowing down for yet another weird roadside attraction to make him visit. At this rate, they were going to be lucky to make it to Fandom before the rental company declared them Public Enemies #1 and came to repossess their SUV.
Liam	"We could've stopped outside the city and swapped out," Liam pointed out, tone gentle and almost hesitant. He knew how much she hated driving, and more, that she detested driving in traffic, so he couldn't quite understand her decision to push on in to Chicago.
Verity	Verity took her eyes off the road and the entertainingly vulgar gestures long enough to flash him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, but then we would have been late for dinner. It's never nice to start a visit by making your hosts wait for you."
Liam	Liam's expression shifted, turning suspicious. "I distinctly remember you mentioning that this stop was also going to involve a hotel," he pointed out. Though he supposed he couldn't really blame her if she'd decided a change of plans was in order after how things had gone down in Vegas.
Verity	"We are staying in a hotel, you crybaby," Verity said, turning on her turn signal and starting to inch toward the far side of the highway. Their exit would be coming up soon, and given the speed of the traffic around them, the more notice she gave about wanting to get over, the better off they were going to be. "The Carmichael Hotel is a Chicago institution. It's been here for decades. My great-grandparents had their honeymoon there. The doors shut, there's good water pressure, and the hotel staff was thrilled when I made our reservation."
Liam	"So what's the catch?" Liam asked, suspicions allayed by like zero percent.
Verity	Verity didn't say anything, choosing to focus on merging.
Liam	"Is it haunted?" Liam asked with a sigh.
Verity	"Nope!" she volunteered cheerfully.
Liam	"Am I missing something?" still not looking any less suspicious here.
Verity	"Maybe a little bit," she teased.
Liam	Liam just scowled at her and settled back into his seat, arms crossed and brow furrowed in thought. He was silent for a few minutes as they continued to rumble down the highway. As Verity pulled on to the exit, he asked, "Are the owners of this hotel human?"
Verity	Verity's delighted laughter accompanied them down the exit. *** The Carmichael Hotel was located in a four-story brownstone that was almost as old as the city of Chicago itself. The buildings to either side were considerably more modern, making it look shabby and run-down, rather than rustic and quaint. If there had been any space surrounding the structure, it would have been different: add some gardens with birdbaths, maybe a gazebo or two, and you'd be looking at a cozy, probably ruinously expensive bed-and-breakfast, instead of an outdated deathtrap with the temerity to charge people to sleep under its probably-leaking roof. There was a small parking garage across the street, with a sign that read Guests Only hung off-kilter in the window of the unattended booth. A numeric keypad was set up in front of the barrier. Verity rolled down the window and leaned out to punch in the code. A moment later, the barrier rose.
Liam	"So... how would someone who's never stayed here before access the parking?" Liam couldn't help but ask.
Verity	"Which came first, the chicken, the egg, or the apathy-based security system?" Verity started forward, driving into the gloom of the garage. "When your reservation is accepted, you're issued a code. It never changes. Since most people can't get reservations, there's very little in the way of people parking here when they're not supposed to. They can't get past the barrier."
Liam	"Which is made of plywood," Liam pointed out. "And not actually that difficult to break through." It made him, a child of a world of high-tech security devices, absolutely, positively, twitchy.
Verity	"The Carmichael has other methods of guaranteeing their security." Verity winked, then rolled up her window and slid out of her seat, leaving Liam with no choice but to do the same if he wanted to continue their conversation. Okay, maybe it wasn't only the heat that made her bratty.
Liam	"You're terrible and I hate you," Liam retorted, following. "We're bringing the mice inside, I assume?"
Verity	"We're staying here for a few days," Verity pointed out. "What, did you think I was going to leave them locked in the SUV? That's not cool. They enjoy cable TV as much as we do. Besides, I got them their own room."
Liam	"Their own room?" Liam echoed, trying not to let his relief show too visibly. He loved you, mice, but he was a newly-married man here.
Verity (and the mice)	Verity grinned at him, sliding the SUV's door open to reveal the highly modified Barbie Dream House that they had duct-taped to the side wall. Barriers kept nearby boxes from sliding over and crushing it. It wasn't a perfect solution to the problem, but it was the best they'd been able to do on short notice. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly. A few dozen tiny rodent heads promptly popped out of the dollhouse windows. "HAIL!" shouted the mice. "Hail yourselves," Verity said amiably, lowering her hand. "Get into the carrier bag, okay? We're at the hotel, and I want to get you settled before Liam and I go down to dinner." "HAIL!" shouted the mice again. "HAIL THE HOTEL!" They began pouring from the Dream House like a fuzzy river, flowing into the open duffle bag on the other side of the SUV.
Liam	Liam had their two small suitcases, each of which was packed with the absolute necessities of an overnight stay. If they needed anything else, they could always head back out to the SUV. Not that they had all that much to begin with, given how this was a vacation from their vacation and all, but Vegas had been a good reminder of the virtue of being able to pack and leave in a hurry if necessary. "You still haven't told me what species the people who own this hotel are," Liam pointed out.
Verity	"Huh. That's true." Verity, stop trolling your husband.
Liam	He loved you, Verity, but you were also kind of the worst. It was probably too much to expect the trolling-level to go down any just because they were married now. "The mice aren’t normally crazy about locking themselves away. I was expecting some sort of negotiation on their part," he noted.
Verity	Look, she had every faith you could figure this out, Liam! "That's also true," she said amiably, turning and started for the exit. She trusted him to follow.
Liam	And follow he did. "So... whoever owns this hotel is probably a member of a species that would consider mice a tasty snack," he reasoned.
Verity	"Oh, you're feeling smart today," Verity said, flashing a quick, flirty look in his direction. "You still haven't told me what you want to do once we get to our room."
Liam	Liam grinned back at her. "Oh, believe me, I've been making a list." And he knew the question had been mostly teasing, but the fact that she still asked, made a point of asking, filled him with a particular sort of warmth.
Verity	Verity laughed. She couldn't help herself. Everything was just so...warm and fizzy with happiness. It was like the feeling of Hallmark Christmas movies, times a thousand. It was a shopping spree in a weapons depot with a blank check. It was being married to Liam. They crossed the street, resulting in a few more honking horns and excitingly obscene gestures from drivers who didn't think they were moving fast enough. Then they were at the front door of the Carmichael. A small, old-fashioned wooden sign dangling from the rafters of the porch was the only thing marking the place as a hotel; without that, it could have been a museum, or even a private home. "Finally," she sighed.
Liam	Liam looked around, frowning slightly as he took in those details. "This is getting less appealing by the minute," he admitted.
Verity	"That's part of the point," Verity said. "Protective coloration. Even people who realize this is a hotel wouldn't want to stay here. It looks like the sort of place where the beds are lumpy and full of bedbugs, and maybe you get murdered in the middle of the night."
Liam	"Yeah, sounds like your kinda place," Liam said dryly. Mostly the 'potential murder' part, as he knew just how fond Verity was of a comfortable bed to sleep in.
Verity	Just wait till they got to Michigan. She just grinned at him and opened the door. The foyer was small and plain, and somehow managed to seem cramped despite containing minimal furniture: a couch, a small bookshelf crammed with paperbacks from the 1960s, a lamp that looked like it hailed from the same era, and a reception desk that held neither clerk nor computer. There was a bell, but that was about it in terms of 'concessions to customer service.' The wallpaper was peeling in places, revealing the mustard-yellow wall beneath, and everything smelled like dust. Liam looked around, clearly unimpressed. "Breathe," Verity advised, and walked over to the desk, where she tapped the bell once, lightly. Despite the bloom of rust on its surface, it rang clear and clean and she stepped back to wait.
Receptionist	And wait. And wait some more. After almost two full minutes spent in silent contemplation of the foyer - long enough that they weren't going to get any gold stars for customer service - a voice shouted, "I'm coming!" and a rail-thin man emerged from the door behind the reception desk. He had strong Greek features, olive skin, and tinted glasses in front of his eyes. What he didn't have was any visible hair, not even eyelashes. A knit mushroom cap covered the top of his head, looking slightly out of place when compared to his suit, which would have looked more appropriate on a funeral director. He stopped when he came to the desk itself, resting his hands on the wood, and glared at them. "We're full up," he snapped.
Verity	"That's because we have a reservation," Verity said, with her best beauty queen smile. "Check your book. We're under 'Price.' Unless Vasia decided to be clever and list us under 'Healy.' That's what she did last time I came to town." Beat. "I don't believe we've met."
Receptionist	The man blinked. Blinked again. Looked at Liam. Looked back to Verity. "Price?" he said, in a strangled tone.
Verity	"Uh-huh," Verity said, still smiling. "That's why I'm so cute. We breed for cute. Is Vasia here?" "I'll get her," he said, and fled back the way that he had come. Verity sighed as she turned to Liam. "Vasia normally works the desk," she explained, a little apologetically. "She's a people person. That can be rare among the Carmichael staff. I don't know that guy. He's probably here looking for a wife."
Liam	"Because this place is owned by people for whom arranged marriage is still a necessity," said Liam slowly, mentally running through the potential species of their hosts. He’d eliminated most of the really obvious cryptids. The man who had just run from them was definitely not a Bigfoot or a bogeyman, or even a waheela. But there were so many options still on the table. The idea of humans not being the only form of intelligent life out there was not new to him for a number of reasons, but he was still getting used to the sheer scope of those that existed in Verity’s world.
Vasia	The door opened again. A plump, pretty young woman in a Vassar sweatshirt emerged. She was wearing the same tinted glasses as the man they had talked to before, and had a kerchief tied around her head. She was also beaming. "Verity! You're here! And this must be Liam!" She turned the full force of her smile on him. "I'm Vasia Kalakos. Welcome to the Carmichael Hotel."
Liam	"Thank you," Liam said, tone solemn as he gave her a speculative once-over, still trying to place her species.
Vasia	"Oh, this is going to be fun," said Vasia. She opened the door behind her, gesturing for them to follow her through. Verity went without hesitation, Liam at her heels, and they were through to the long, featureless hallway on the other side. The wallpaper here was filthy enough to make the wallpaper in the previous room seem new, and the floor was splintery, untreated wood. It smelled like a carnival haunted house, all artifice and anticipation. The hall ended at a large oak door that looked as out of place as a ballet dancer at a tango competition. Liam moved to help Vasia push it open. She blinked, evidently surprised, before smiling again. "I like him," she said, glancing over her shoulder to Verity. "He has manners."
Verity	"I like him too," Verity said, flashing her engagement ring proudly. First thing on tomorrow's agenda: get wedding bands. "I called dibs."
Vasia	"Like I'd ever date a mammal? Ew. You people sweat. It's gross." She gave the door one final push, and it came fully open, revealing an opulent lobby that would have been perfectly at home in some old-fashioned murder mystery, the kind where the men wore tuxedoes all day long and the women draped themselves in mink. Gold and brown velvet draped the walls, and the plush carpet sucked at their feet as they followed Vasia toward the wide mahogany reception desk. There was a bar, and a fireplace, both ringed by conversation pits that had been formed from overstuffed couches and chairs. There were people seated there, talking amongst themselves, and not all of them could have passed for human. One, a woman with brightly-feathered wings and blue-green hair, looked up as they passed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Verity	"The Carmichael is a Chicago institution, mostly used by the cryptid community, along with a few groups of trusted humans," Verity explained, watching Liam as she tried to gauge his reaction. "We might be the only human guests here." That was for Vasia's benefit, of course. Verity was the only fully-human person here.
Vasia	"No might about it," said Vasia. "We try to limit human occupation, for the comfort of our other guests. You have a lot of residency options in this city, and most of the people who come here only have the Carmichael. No place else will do once you've enjoyed a hotel that doesn't require you to conceal your true nature before you come downstairs to enjoy the continental breakfast."
Verity	"Most places also don't include live mice and goldfish in the continental breakfast," Verity said, amused.
Verity	"Speaking of which..." Vasia gave Verity's duffle a meaningful look. "Am I correct in assuming the second room you booked is for your usual rodent companions, and the customary precautions should be taken?" "HAIL!" exclaimed the bag. Vasia laughed.
Verity	A woman who looked very much like Vasia emerged from the hall behind the reception desk as they approached, taking up a place at the dead center of the structure. Her uniform was brown and gold and matched the fabric draped on the walls well enough to be considered a form of camouflage. She was wearing tinted sunglasses. She wasn't wearing a kerchief, and the snakes that topped her head were twisting lazily around one another, forming lovely arabesques with their red and copper bodies. "Dina!" Verity called brightly, raising her free hand in a quick wave. "You look amazing. Did you just shed?"
Dina	"You noticed!" She patted her serpentine hair softly. It hissed as it twined around her fingers. "How have you been? And who's tall, fair, and handsome over there?"
Verity	Verity couldn't help but bounce. This was her first time introducing Liam as her husband and hell yeah she was going to make the most of it. "Liam Kincaid-Price, meet Dina Kalakos. Vasia is her sister." Beat. "Or maybe Liam Price-Kincaid, we're still working out the details."
Vasia	"From a different clutch," said Vasia, removing her own kerchief to reveal a full head of lovely, iridescent green snakes. They were longer than Dina's, and seemed largely content to remain draped down the back of her neck, tongues flicking lazily. Then the full meaning of Verity's introduction sank in and those snakes went up in a hurry, mouths agape. "Wait, are you married?!" she gasped, as Dina cheered.
Liam	Liam wasn't bouncing, but he was beaming. "Personally, I think Kincaid-Price flows better," he offered.
Verity	"Liam Kincaid-Price," Verity confirmed, giving him a besotted smile.
Liam	"But yes," he told Vasia as he wrapped an arm around Verity's shoulders, tugging her close so he could place a kiss on her temple. He was a newlywed, okay, he was allowed a little obnoxious PDA. "We're married, and Verity's been testing my knowledge by not just outright telling me that you're gorgons," he added. The snakes were kind of unmistakable, after all.
Verity	"Yes, but can you guess their subspecies?" Verity stage-whispered. "Also, am I Verity Kincaid-Price, too, or Price-Kincaid?"
Liam	He did have a guess he was reasonably certain of, as it happened. But he also didn't want to embarrass himself by openly speculating about such in front of two representatives of the species in question. So he was going to focus on her second question. "I like the idea of matching, of you being Kincaid-Price too," he admitted. "But it depends on which one you like better, I suppose."
Verity	"Guess we've got awhile to figure it out," Verity said, grinning at him again. They were lesser gorgons, as it happened. Which made the green color of Vasia's snakes all the more unusual. "Who was that guy who met us when we first rang the bell?" Verity asked, remembering that there were other people present and they couldn't just fall into a welter of 'No, I love you more' as may have happened once or twice in the trip from Vegas to Chicago.
Vasia	Vasia wrinkled her nose. "Suitor," she said. "His name's Manos. His family is large, well-connected, and wealthy, and he's a whiny baby-man who wants a wife so he doesn't have to learn to cook now that his mother's kicking him out of the house. I've told him thanks but no thanks twice, he's going to petition dad for a third chance, and then I'm going to tell him no thanks a third time, and that'll be that."
Dina	"He's not that bad," said Dina. "Not all of us are striking beauties, you know. You should be more grateful for chances like this."
Vasia	"Then you marry him," said Vasia. She leaned over the desk and grabbed two sets of keys from the hooks on the other side. Real keys, brass and gleaming in the light from the chandelier overhead, not keycards. The Carmichael was an old-fashioned establishment, and it was content to stay that way. "If you'd follow me," said Vasia, straightening up again, the topic of Manos and marriages discarded. "I'll lead you to your rooms." They headed for the staircase leading up to the rooms.
Dina	Dina stared after them, a moody, unreadable expression on her face.

Verity	Their room was located on the third floor. It was big enough for Verity to dance in, with a bed that seemed designed to hold up to four adults at a time. The mice had the room next door, which was considerably smaller and not nearly as nice. Verity gave Vasia a sidelong look as she set their duffle bag down on the bed. "Did we get an upgrade?" she asked.
Vasia	"It was the room your great-grandfather always requested," Vasia said. "We have a policy of putting any visiting Healy in that room if it's available." "You didn't put me in there last time." "You were traveling with your parents last time," she said. "That's where we put them. Enjoy your stay, and remember, dinner is at eight. Daddy will be very disappointed if you're late."
Verity	"We'll be there," Verity assured her. She smiled one more time and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. That was the cue. Verity unzipped the duffle bag, took a step backward, and announced, "It's safe to come out now." "HAIL!" cried the mice, before scampering out into the open and covering the bed in a sea of tiny bodies. Verity clapped her hands before they could scatter, and they stopped, turning to look expectantly in her direction. There is an art to dealing with Aeslin mice and not thinking longingly about the virtues of owning a cat. A large part of it is clarity. "We are at the Carmichael Hotel," she announced. "It is owned by gorgons. Gorgons have snakes for hair. Snakes eat mice. The gorgons who own his hotel are friends of the family, and have promised not to come into this room for as long as we are staying here. I need you to promise that you will not leave this room unless I or Liam accompany you. You will not chew holes in the walls. You will not go looking for the kitchen. You will not explore any holes that someone else has already chewed."
Aeslin Priest	The mice muttered amongst themselves, clearly disappointed by her unreasonable demands. "You will be allowed to order one extra-large pizza with everything per day," Verity continued. It was important to provide them with a reason to go along with said demands. The muttering stopped. "Uncle Mike is bringing two dozen cupcakes when he comes to dinner. They are all for you. Another two dozen will be provided in two days. You have cable television, and since there are no humans sleeping in this room, you get to control the remote, providing you don't blast the volume after midnight." The mice, who had much more sensitive hearing than any human being, were starting to nod enthusiastically. "So Mote It Be!" squeaked the colony's high priest, triggering a wave of cheers and scattered "hails" from the rest of the mice.
Verity	"Cool," Verity said, opening the drawer next to the bed, pulled out the remote, and tossed it on the pillow. "Now what do you want on your pizza?" Placing the order only took a few minutes. The mice were still cheering when she left the room and walked to the next door in the hall. She knocked twice, and, with a grin, called, "Room service!"
Liam	Liam had spent the few minutes that Verity had been in the other room giving this one a once-over, getting their stuff put away in dresser drawers and in the bathroom. Now he came to the door, amused smile lighting his face. "Are the mice settled?" he asked.
Verity	"I gave them the remote and ordered them a pizza. Same techniques my parents used on me when I was a teenager." Of course, back then, Verity had been sharing her hotel rooms with the mice. They had passed more than a few nights in the halogen glow of the TV screen, reruns of Galaxy Quest boldly going while her parents enjoyed the rare luxury of having a door that locked between them and their children. (Alex had offloaded the mice onto her as soon as she was old enough to have her own hotel room. By the time Antimony was reliably going on the road trips instead of staying behind with Aunt Jane and Uncle Ted, Verity and Alex were old enough that they were the ones choosing to stay home. Maybe that was why they didn't get along so well with their younger sister. She'd never had the bonding experience that was sharing a hotel with their parents and the talking mice.) Verity slipped past Liam into the room, looking around at all that space before she turned and smiled at him, long and slow and inviting. "You know, we have like an hour and a half before dinner," she noted. "No one's going to bother us up here. The walls are totally soundproof."
Liam	Liam raised an eyebrow. "Have you tested that?" he asked.
Verity	"Never had a boy worth bringing here before," Verity said, drifting closer to him. "But I used to come here with my parents, and I figure there has to be a reason they were so happy to pay for a hotel room when Uncle Mike and Aunt Lea live just about forty minutes away. Soundproofing accounts for a lot."
Liam	"That makes a certain amount of sense," Liam conceded, pulling her in for a soft, slow kiss. "So, how did your family manage to make it on to the list of acceptable human guests for a gorgon-owned hotel, anyway?"
Verity	"Something about my great-grandparents on their honeymoon," Verity said, leading him back to the bed, one careful footstep at a time. "Details escape me right now." Her head was not in honeymoons of the past, but firmly here in the honeymoon of the present.
Liam	Liam was genuinely curious, and would end up pressing Verity for details later. But for now? Message received. He followed her happily, starting in on unbuttoning his shirt cuffs once they were standing at the foot of the bed.
Verity	"We need to talk about how you don't appreciate t-shirts enough," Verity said, leaning over to help. Not with his cuffs.
Liam	Liam grinned back at her. "I appreciate t-shirts just fine. As workout clothes. Besides, I know you like me buttoned-down. Gives you something to undo," he pointed out.
Verity	"The man speaks truth," Verity said, and then his hands were underneath her sweater, which was far less complicated than his button-down - and good thing, too, because waiting had never been one of Verity's stronger skills. Liam laughed as she pressed herself into him, and they fell backward onto the bed, already wrapped around each other, shedding clothing as they went. For once, the only one who was likely to start cheering was her, and that was the best part of all.