@mikeylangdon // s.c. - accepting *!
he’s always appreciated art deco, but as the doors swing open before him with just a thought, he cant help but feel as if he’s been transported back in time. the hotel is seeped in a timeless energy, every thread of the rug, every piece of the shimmer chandelier. the heels of a pair of saint laurent boots are silenced as he steps onto the carpet, walking briskly. a wave of his hand silences the old woman behind the desk, as she waddles forward looking to stop him. the thump of her sleeping body hitting the floor even curls his lips into the slightest of sadistic smiles. it’s not till he’s climbed half of the staircase dominating the room that he feels a presence much more powerful, radiating sinister energy that sends a delighted chill down his spine. he pauses on the stairs, reaching into his leather jacket to remove his trademark cigarette case, selecting and lighting one without his lighter before he slowly turns to face the boy down below. he takes a long drag of his cigarette as he returns the case to his jacket pocket with a neutral expression. ‘ i’d like to speak to a manager please. ’
