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WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: An hour outside De Chima
WHEN: January 10-12
WHAT: imPorts are treated to a Swear-In that’s nothing but a weekend of relaxation at a brand new resort and spa!
WARNINGS: Possible mild nudity

It’s been a long few months, hasn’t it imPorts? Between the invading monsters (yikes!), evading the apocalypse (double yikes!) and then some fear toxin on behalf of your good pal Joker (triple yikes!), imPorts are overdue for a vacation. And wouldn’t you know it? One is coming right up.

Oh, yeah. It’s a Hot Springs Episode.

Welcome to Elysium Resort and Spa! When you come in, you’ll get a brochure with all of their offerings. They’re a little confused, perhaps, espousing relaxation ideals of every culture, clearly having just thrown all of their relaxation spaghetti at the wall to see if it sticks, but they’ve got the spirit! The smell of eucalyptus fills the air as you toe off your shoes and change into the slippers and robes that they have available for you as they usher you into what must be, for some, absolute paradise.

You can find rooms for all persuasions here, all purporting various health benefits. They have your typical fare - salt rooms, saunas, steam rooms, buckets of water with ladles resting in them to pour over the heaters to allow them to sizzle - but be warned! Some of these rooms climb up to ridiculous temperatures, leaving the bottoms of your feet red and toasty as you jump in (they suggest sandals, but who reads instructions anyway?), and other rooms are filled with ice as you’re plunged into what may as well be a walk-in freezer. Sometimes the doors are a little fiddly, though. Don’t worry - you won’t get trapped in here long enough for any real harm to come to you. But you might get a little uncomfortable as you rattle at the door, one of the employees eventually hurrying to let you out and offering their sincerest apologies, and won’t you have a gift certificate?

If those rooms aren’t enough for you, you can check out the baths. Salt baths, chilled baths, and hot tubs galore are here for imPorts, but that’s not all. Ever wanted to bathe in tea? In wine? Would you like to sink into a bath filled entirely with clay? How about getting all your dead skin chomped off by fish? It’s all here for you! Just try not to drink the bathwater - or, heavens, eat the fish. Those aren’t for you!

As imPorts stroll outside, they’ll see a beautiful vista overlooking the mountains, attached to a spacious hot springs (it’s natural, they claim, but who’s checking?) where imPorts can simply relax and enjoy the scenery. After that, why not pop inside to where some of the technicians will absolutely insist that you get a massage. Or a mani-pedi - yes, even you, big guy. Or, really, anything that your heart desires.

Once you’ve been poked and prodded and primped to your heart’s content (or discontent, as it may be), the spa open until the wee hours of the morning, it’s time to go and dine on some of the local cuisine, prepared fresh by the resort’s resident chef with a distinct eye to fresh, clean flavors and a truly ridiculous amount of salad. They want to make sure that you’re healthy inside and out, after all!

Before arriving at the spa, everyone was able to choose who they wanted to room with. But it seems that their systems got a bit scrambled during their grand opening, so you may find yourself bunking with a stranger instead. They’re deeply apologetic, of course, but it really would be easier for them if you’d just be nice for an evening and give it a shot. It’s only one evening, right? It’s not like you’ll be roomed with a serial killer. Probably. Given the imPort population there’s, what, a five percent chance?

The hotel rooms themselves are beautiful and spacious, each with a window looking out over the lovely view of the scenery below. It’s the perfect way to end your night… until 3 AM when an alarm begins to blare and all of the guests are ushered outside in the chilly winter air while firefighters come to check the place out. It’s a false alarm (some brat must have pulled it, the manager says apologetically, ready with more gift certificates), but hey, maybe this is a good chance to get to know your neighbors!

The next day, guests are free to take advantage of the resort’s facilities once more, or they can go hiking in the mountainous trails available to them, complete with regular rest stops with firepits, with the staff more than happy to pack lunchboxes and fixings for s’mores.

After they come back and have a thankfully uneventful night’s rest, buses will be ready to take them back to civilization, along with goodie bags filled with luxury goods and an earnest invitation to come back anytime! But maybe next time, wait a couple of months so they can iron out the kinks in their system.

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With her bag secured at a shoulder, Leia heads to the floor where her room is, keycard in hand. She's assuming the suite she's been given is one she'll be able to enjoy on her own, and she plans on enjoying every minute of it, when she's not at the spa or relaxing in one of the fancy baths. The solitude of the room is something she's very much looking forward to, being able to unwind from the busy season at work, read a book or two, browse the network—nothing to do with work or business. Relaxation only.

The key slides through the slot and there's a click to signal the lock. Taking a deep breath, her hand at the handle, she's stepping inside. "Well, this is certainly nice," she comments out loud, taking it all in, moving further into the suite. "Definitely not what I was expecting—"

[things move very quickly -- almost too quick to follow -- and Lucina is at a loss for words. she knows she ought to spit out an apology or something for her ignorance? but that moment passes by real fast when the little pincer-head appears and gives her a shock.

before she can comment on that, Guzma's gone into damage control which...involved a lot more than just returning the poor monster into its ball? oh. okay. Lucina's eyes wince as the door slams. that's going to be awkward later, isn't it.

it seems the more worked up Guzma gets, the more sober Lucina becomes to balance it. for all the good that does, since she just stands there, letting him put Masquerain away and drop the ball back into the pocket. really, all the "good" there is in being more lucid is feeling rather silly about the string of events that's led up to now, and maybe that's not so good.

still, she doesn't waste too much time in shedding the robe, turning around to hang it up and lock the deadbolt on the door (you know, just in case his kicking broke the actual lock...). her skin prickles, hearing the frustration in his breathing behind her, knowing why and what for, and that helps keep her from getting caught up in all the hijinks. that can wait; he needs her right now.

already slipping one of her swimsuit's straps off her shoulder and freeing her arm, she turns and quickly closes the distance between them, hopping up from her toes so she can catch his mouth.]

[Really Guzma needs to not get so worked up so easily, but if he didn't would he really be him? It doesn't matter, because Lucina seems capable of keeping up with him, or helping him slow down, as it is. Not that watching her take the robe off and then letting the strap of her swimsuit slip off her shoulder didn't work him up even more.

Just, you know, not in the angry way. In the horny way.

He barely gets to ogle her proper before she's approaching him, and he doesn't even think, doesn't need to. Her mouth is on his, and his hands are on her, arms around her. Quickly he pulls at her swimsuit, trying to remove it as they kiss, his mouth hungry against hers. Hell, starving is a better word for the ferocity behind it.

His wants are working against him, however, because he wants to take her swimsuit off, but also wants her against him, and he's trying to do both, but who'd have thought that squishing her against him would make this difficult!!!

NOT HIS BONER.]

There's a bearded man seated on the couch who now looks up, startled. There's a pen in his hand, poised over a notebook he was obviously writing in.

"Hello?"

That uncertain greeting stops her in her tracks, the bag sliding down her arm to the crook of her elbow. Well...this is unexpected. Did she get the wrong room?

"Hello," Leia returns the greeting, unsure now, slowly dragging her bag back up to her shoulder. Still, she's apologetic. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong room." Her keycard is held up.

He's dressed in a loose white shirt, brown vest and trousers. By the couch are a pair of heavy boots and next to him on the couch a cream hat, as if he's settled in comfortably to relax for the evening. Shoes and hat off.

He places the notebook down on the table and rises to stand.

"Pardon me, Miss. I was not expecting any company."

Polite and not about to turn her away.

She takes notice of it all, how comfortable a position the man is in, the set of boots on the floor, the hat. He looks as surprised as she does. There has to be a big misunderstanding here, likely beginning with the keycard being handed to them.

Leia looks at the notebook on the table and then darts her gaze back up when he's rising from the couch. She would note how tall he is but, compared to her, everyone is tall.

"You and I both." A pause, and then she extends a hand. "May I see your keycard?"

[Richie is internally screaming.

Yeah, okay, so: Rey is one thing. The chick from the park whose name Richie still doesn’t know is also one thing. They’re both unfamiliar to Richie, and hell, Anakin Skywalker is also unfamiliar to Richie as he is here—too handsome and unscarred, if he hadn’t said his name then Richie would never have recognized him.

But Princess Leia? Holy shitting fuckballs. Wait until he tells Eddie! This is fucking insane. He should take a picture.

But anyway. He coughs, and tries to at least straighten out his posture and look as dignified as a scrawny four-eyed foul-mouthed teenager can possibly be. If he fucks up meeting Princess Leia he is never going to hear the end of it.]

Yeah, I’ve been looking for two whole hours. [He opens the bag for her to see. Inside is a make-up kit, moisturizer, shampoo and conditioner, a nail file, hair clips, and a stash of chocolates that have been disturbed. There’s no name anywhere.] You’re sure it’s not yours, P—Miss?

[Princess, he was about to say. But like he’d told Eddie, they don’t know how many of the Jedi here know that Star Wars is even a thing, and Richie doesn’t want to risk causing an existential crisis. So for once in his life, he keeps a lid on it, and just shakes the bag.]

Gimme some credit, Jesus, it wouldn’t be five hours. [But it would definitely be an hour, just because Richie’s the sort of person whose attention is easily caught.]

And I brought rations when we got here. [And stole a bunch of chocolates out of that purple guy’s bag.] Potatoes are vegetables. Technically they count as veggie chips too. [A pause.] Anyway, they’ve gotta be keeping the really good shit in the kitchens.

[Yeah, they were definitely looting.]

Well, nobody was there and people still got hungry. It doesn’t count, and anyway, it wasn’t like we smashed the window to get to the food or anything.

[Nah, it just became a tiny safe haven to sleep, eat, and hide out in for a little while. A little like the clubhouse, actually. But Richie snaps out of that train of thought quickly, then places his hand on the doorknob for a moment.]

It’s not that warm. Come on. [And he turns and gently pushes the door right open, keeping an eye out just in case. It swings into an empty hallway.] Okay, Eddie, where to?

Putting a hot rock on your ass doesn’t make sense either, but you’re still gonna do it, I bet.

[It absolutely does not work. Richie is incorrigible.]

Because you want the, [finger-quoting here] “full spa treatment” bullshit.

"Key....? Oh! This...?" He fishes his own keycard out of a pocket and holds it out to her.

"A very unusual way of opening a door," he adds with a bemused smile. He's certainly not used to such a modern invention but it had worked for this room he's in. It hadn't been a mistake and he hadn't broken in.

You know what they say. Big muscles, big brain.

[ From his laughter, it's clear that Magnus knows that nobody says that. ]

You can use whatever the hell you like, [ he says, nudging the bag open. ] Some of this stuff's just for actual woodworking. Figured I might tear down some of those branches later, see if they got any varieties we don't have back home. Too bad none of my shit's magic anymore, though. Then you could have a real good time.

Well, that may have been a slight exaggeration.

I don't think I even have time to experience all this place offers.

[He sighs, relaxing then side-eyeing Richie to give a mild reprimand.]

Just stop talking about my ass.

[the intensity she's met with is a little scary, but more thrilling that way; his neediness is for her, right? she's very pleased by that.

being pressed against him and being groped like that reminds her body what she needs, too, nonsense be damned, and she tries to oblige his hands and work with him, but...he's making this a little complicated, what with the smothering.

the next time she needs a breath, she'll take care of it, breaking away and pulling back just long enough for her to pull the other strap properly off her arm and peel the suit off herself. she's still chilled from leaving the water, so getting pressed back against him is no issue at all -- it's very wanted, in fact, and she punctuates that by getting her arms around his shoulders to keep herself there as she kisses him once again, indulging in the heat of his mouth and tongue, little pleased sounds coming from her while her back squirms in responses to his arms and hands.]

"Me too. Gods, me too." Teasing kisses stroked her hair, her lips, and her nose.

"Just you and me doing something else, something nice."

he nods again.

"I applied to see if we can get a little plot of land just outside the city, somewhere we can make our own place, and live our own lives."

Another snort and some more bubbles.

"Sharpedo!" It grunts, seemingly mildly irritated that Pikachu thinks it would be so careless with its teeth and caffeine! Type disadvantage or not, it'll have him for lunch!

A beat.

"Shar." Give it some coffee. It's going to prove you wrong.

[honestly shocked magnus didn't make a dick joke right there. it takes archie a moment to comprehend.]

Nice. I'll see about carvin' wooden dicks to throw at 'em. You had magic?

"Its alright." He smiled at her. "That works well. I too will likely wander much." he grinned as he settled more, pulling off a glove, then pulling out a tool and starting to tighten part of his cybernetic hand.

"I want to see if I can just... enjoy this, or if it will go wrong like home does."

"Holy fucking shit." Eddie's never had anyone to teach him basic self-defense, let alone this. He makes another note in his notepad. "Even if Bowers never shows up here, that'll be good for other bullies. There's always bullies. And I heard about all the other stuff that happens here." Not all of it. He mostly knows what Richie told him.

"Things always go wrong." That could sound pessimistic, but Abigail has a friendly smile. "There's levels of going wrong though. It's not always end of the world wrong. It might be a small thing, like a tabloid reporter sneaking into the spa to get a picture of imports on vacation. Or the bus driver getting lost on the way home."

She glances at his working on his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Oh I figured they would. Even this little room mishap happening, you know? But I will try to relax anyway. Not that I really know how, but yes." he chuckles.

He nods again.

"I hope it is something simple."

Then we are to be roomies for the night!

[ A statement presented with a brilliant, boyish smile, attempting to turn on the charm as much as he can muster. The news of having to share with this stranger doesn't appear to concern him at all. ]

Come, rest, please. [ A soft gesture towards the nearby seating, or... the bed. ] Would you care for anything? Perhaps some tea?

[Kaz doesn't answer immediately, instead taking stock of the man before he relaxes back into the wall.]

Nothing. Didn't see you when I got in.

[He's usually better at knowing his surroundings, but apparently the potential of a long, hot bath left him oblivious. Kaz pushes his fingers through his hair, getting it damp. The heat soaking through him brings almost instant relief to the throbbing pain in his leg. They'll have to drag him out of here.]

[It was his shadow that blocks her sunlight. Sizhui is about to get a juice smoothie from one of the fruit stands by the pool. He wears the similar fashion of a snow white robe and a headband around his head. He's dressed almost exactly like Lan Wangji.

Towel thrown at him. Sizhui turns around and then steps aside with an apologetic look.]

What? Your light? H-hey I'm sorry! I'll step aside.

Before the Baths: Closed to Lan Xichen

He finds his brother relatively quickly, his lips a thin line.

"Can't go in. Distract Wei Ying."

Someone just remembered that he has a brand on his chest that he really doesn't want the other man to see....

Baths - OPEN

He tries his best to find one relatively empty, and somehow mostly manages it. Only a couple of figures here and there. He's wearing a long white robe, covered from head to toe and wrapped tightly around his waist, but made of a thin fabric. This is no bath robe. This is his inner robe.

He steps into the hot water slowly, his eyes sliding shut as he does so. It was completely different from the cold springs at home, but he had to admit it felt nice...

Roomies...? - OPEN, first come first serve

He had arranged to stay with Wei Ying, but everyone had gotten all mixed up and it appears he ended up rooming with someone else instead. He stands in the doorway, looking at the them, then at the door, then at his key card.

"... Mistake."

The Mountainside

Lan Wangji cuts a striking figure on the mountain. Like a spectre on a cliff, he looks out over the expanse before them, still as a statue, holding his sword at his side. He looks like he might be posing for a magazine.

It almost makes him homesick, that deep expanse of green, when he's been surrounded by nothing but desert the last two weeks...

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Lan Wangji | OTA