The Hollow Inn
Owner: Harlan Bellweather (Fae-touched, likes to be left alone)
Location: Close to town
Description: The Hollow Inn is just a nickname which cuts two ways - an inside joke for those who know the truth, and a bleak understatement for everyone else. For Changelings, it’s a quiet nod to whispers that they can find lodging here until they find their footing. But for anyone who’s ever spent a night here, the name stings in a different way. The motel - it’s real name The Mountain Retreat Motel - stands like a forgotten relic on the side of the road wedged between a gas station and a convenience store. The once-cheerful red paint is now dulled by years of harsh weather and neglect. The exposed wooden railings on the second floor are cracked and splintered, some sagging dangerously under the weight of too many winters. Each door is painted a stark white, though time has yellowed them all unevenly.
The neon vacancy sign out front hums weakly, flickering as if struggling to remember its purpose at all, its companion of ‘NO’ likely no longer working, and no longer needed. There are many rooms on offer, and its unsurprising how little business the place gets outside of the desperate tourist season during summer. The ice machine only sometimes works, and the vending machines are stocked half of the time, and rarely with the good stuff. If the machines in the tiny laundry room don’t eat your quarter and your laundry, then luck truly is on your side.
Each room are a snapshot of the past. Walls are covered in faded floral, curling at the edges where moisture has crept in. Heavy drapes of deep mustard hang stiffly over windows, their fabric thick with dust. The furniture of solid wood is scuffed and chipped, lacquer worn away. An old box TV sits on a low dresser, and the beds - twins or double - sag in the middle despite the sturdy frames. The bedspreads are thick, quilted in faded shades of burgundy, forest green or navy blue, patterns outdated and hard to look at for too long. The sheets are clean, if a little threadbare. The small utilitarian rooms are tiled with faded yellow, lined with grout that have seen better days and a shower-bath combo that could see worse, only time will tell.
The owner Harlan is a somewhat absent overseer, not willing to discuss his Fae-touched nature, nor really engage with occupants beyond just knowing what room they’re taking. Lost can stay for cheap, or for free in exchange for performing small odd jobs every now and then.
Rooms
Downstairs
Room 1 - Eclat Room 2 - Room 3 - Room 4 - Vol Room 5 - Room 6 - Rhys Room 7 - Room 8 - Pæga Room 9 - Room 10 -
Upstairs
Room 11 - Jack Room 12 - Room 13 - Harold Falconer Room 14 - Rose Thorne Room 15 - Room 16 - Room 17 - Joseph Priestly Room 18 - Ember Room 19 - Damien Room 20 -