Heavy Rain II: Black and White
Day One
Chapter 4: Hotel Check-in
It was raining. It's always raining here. Never seems to stop. I was standing on the curb feeling the rain roll down my back, where my cheap jacket failed to do its job. Another cab sped by me spraying my once-nice leather boots. You practically have to throw yourself in front of one to make them notice you in this weather. Another cab started to slide by as I did the cliché, "Taxi" hail, only stopping once I made a motion that I was going to throw one of my bags at his yellow car.
Heavy smoke mixed with the heavy wet air as I flung the slick door.
"Hey lady, what you tryin' ta do to m'car."
I ignored the seedy man, and threw my two bags unceremoniously into the far side of his equally seedy cab. "Cross Roads Hotel."
The man rolled his eyes, and turned around, driving away from the curb before I even shut the door. As the soaked city whizzed by, I tried to ignore my surroundings, I've had plenty of practice, but still couldn't help but noticing almost every grimy detail, in the lousy cab. 'Just sit up straight, and try not to touch anything.'
Soon, the cab pulled into the intended area. I jumped out after flicking the amount owed to the driver, and listening to him curse under his breadth when he noticed no tip.
The sign flashed Cros-Road Hotel, and blinked like it was going to go out any minute. 'Lobby…lobby…lob- ah, lobby.' The small entrance was cheaply lit, and the man behind the counter was just as cheesy.
"Hello," he smiled in a nasally, perverted way.
I didn't smile back, only walked over to the counter, and tried to give him one of my light glares.
Not minding my glare, he held out a clipboard with an attached pen. I glazed over it, and looked back at the man's dopey grin. I didn't bother to take off my dripping gloves as I filled out the form. 'Name: Liza Marian McKay…Age…' I paused for a minute and then smiled to myself. 'Age: 82.' A nice even, old wrinkly number. 'Status.' Wait, status? That's pretty vague, and could mean a number of things. Like marital status, or social status? Oh, wait I know. I finished scrawling my answer, trying not to smear the ink too much with my wet gloves. It was witty, I had to admit, and I wasn't exactly lying.
I laid the clipboard onto the counter, and slid it deliberately slow to the awaiting dope. The man snatched up the clipboard, biting his lower lip while still smiling like an idiot. "Liza Marian McKay, 82-" His nasally voice trailed off. "Status: Level 158 fire wizard from the depths of Tartaras…" He put the form down and gave me the expected deer-in-the-head-lights look.
"Key." I held out my gloved hand.
"Umm…" he seemed stuck for words. Good.
"Key." I repeated unaffected.
He hesitantly held out a small plastic key. I swiped it out of his hand without another word. I leaned down to pick up my two waiting pieces of luggage, taking care not to accidently flash anything.
"Yes, umm…enjoy your stay…" he mumbled eyes following my movements a bit too closely.
I quickly got to my feet, turned around and stalked out of the lobby. My heeled boots left a quick series of clicks as I headed out the door. I still felt the creep eyeing me from behind, even as I stood outside, squinting against the heavy onslaught of rain to try and spot my room. 'Ah, second floor, number seven. Odd number. It was clearly not my day.' I hunched my shoulders and walked quickly to the covered stairs. Stairs, another thing I dislike, especially when they're slick with rain water and other filth left over from past tenants. I finally reached the door, set down my two suitcases, quickly brushed the rain water off my beige trench coat, and opened the door to room 207.