2025-01-16 - Were Those Guests or Baboons?

"What the hell happened here!? Why!?"

"Del.. Del... lower your voice. We're in the hall--"

"No no I want people to know that it's not good to live like boars! Why did they--"

"DEL.. shhhh.. come on, let's step inside, we can talk--"

"Did you call down to the desk yet? They have to see this. Seriously. They have these baboons on file. And--"

Julia, a beleaguered-looking middle-aged chambermaid, takes the elbow of the disgruntled blonde woman and steps into the guest room that has the both of them in a lather, and closes the door behind them.

---

The blonde who had been doing the beaking off is a one Delilah Moore: hired on in 2021, been around many blocks, seen many things. She takes all of the mystery stains, orphaned 'toys' and paraphernalia, et al... like a champ. As 'Julia' peers into the bathroom, Delilah stands poised with her fists on her scrawny hips, eyes black with ire. "Was it that quartet of bassoon players? I bet it was, it's a sign. Bassoon? Baboon. They trashed the room!" Rants Delilah as she stomps over toward one of the two double beds.

"They even flipped the cuck chair!" The little blonde wails.

"Delilah those aren't CUCK CHAIRS they're courtesy--"

"DOESN'T MATTER." Delilah looks absolutely incensed. Julia, eyes rolling, goes to call in this travesty to the concierge.

On shift today down in the concierge office was one Casey Mateo who was pulling up his suit's sleeve to look at the time. Checking it over, inspecting how long he had left on shift. Not long... not long. For him the weird 11pm to 11am shift was not the worst out there, since things happen at night and all of the requests get stranger, but it is one leaving him tired. Needing to yawn when he could.

Needing a perk and a pick me up.

Just an hour to go...

<hr>

"Mmmhmm. Yes. Oh did they?" Casey's voice is coming through to Julia on the other side of the phone. "Trashed it? Well. Oh-alright. Alright. Okay."

Julia was a TALKER at this point, while one Delilah more is openly upset, Julia is saving it for Casey. "Give me..." Casey's voice is dragging for a moment as he is moving his fingertip down to his sleeve, pulling up the suit and shirt once more to check on the time. "Five minutes. I will come on up. Room?" Pausing to confirm room and floor.

"Five minutes."

"There, there, Mr. Mateo is on the way. Take a breather, Del." Julia, who indeed kinda went ape into the phone to a magnitude that even spicy Delilah couldn't match, makes for the younger maid as she continues grunting her way into pushing the toppled (cuck) chair back onto its stout, DETERMINED little legs.

"I knew they were going to be a pain." The blonde grumps, tracing her finger atop the entertainment stand and peering at the mystery fluid that glistens upon the tip. Julia looks horrified, about to wail about using gloves but then Delilah yanks out a Lysol wipe and washes her hands that way. "The one? You know, the one who looked like Adam Sandler got hit in the mug with a board? He had the look of trouble. I bet he got fucking snockered--"

"Delilah!" Julia gasps, the picture of purity.

"Snockered and started this obvious banger in what was a perfectly good room!" Delilah stomps over toward the recycle and waste bins, sees there's nothing in either but rather... all over the floor. Something dangling from a lamp gives her pause.

Down in his office Casey was exhaling deep to compose himself, to prepare himself for Julia. The servicewoman was known to be a talker and a yeller and if she isn't happy? Then extracting himself from the situation to finish his shift at near the arranged time was going to be a challenge. Still, guests and staff have needs and Casey is there to meet them.

And exceed them!

Grabbing his clipboard on route to leaving and heading up the elevator to find the room.

About nine minutes are actually passing, if anyone is staring at a watch, as that knock is heard on the other side of the hotel room door.

"Julia?" Casey's primed and ready customer service voice is coming out, "Okay so. The damage."

As Delilah deliberates what she is seeing hanging off of the fanciful, pretty lamp, Julia answers the door to admit the ever-efficient Mr. Mateo. Hands fluttering, the older brunette shows Casey in...

... to what is INDEED a very, very trounced room. The beds? Stripped! Mattresses? One is crooked and half-off of the frame. The other? Still in it's proper place BUT covered in ketchup stains. As in, half a bottle's worth.

A cuck chair, looking rather short-changed of the good time that it's owed.

Mystery slime on the entertainment stand! A shoe sticking out of the bowl of the toilet! Little plastic army men in the back tank of said toilet! Julia is reciting all of it.. bustling around like a startled chipmunk. Looks like there was beer pong set up in that bathroom, to boot.

But the cherry on top... Delilah has hanging like a dead thing from the end of a pencil. Strawberry flavored edible underwear.

Welcome, Casey!

Delilah looks aghast as she snarls out, "Babooooons..."

Casey's attention is on Julia at first as the older brunette is showing him around the hotel room, holding his clipboard close against his dark blue suit jacket, while noting down the damage. There's a checklist of things to go through, a ruined mattress to start while the bathroom is completely a tip. Fortunately no lasting damage or flooding but still... it's not great.

"Alright so seems our guests here had quite the party. Let me check how long they had the room for." Flicking through the papers for a moment just outside of the bathroom with Julia in front of him, Casey is tapping the top twice with his pen. "Two nights. Quite the party they had for two nights work." The surrounding mess not phasing Casey but, then again, he isn't the one rolling up his sleeves to clean it.

"We can deduct some though from their credit card details, letting them know and recover the damage to the room. If you could Julia, mind taking photographs of it? You can have them emailed to me."

Julia, possibly even, handing that job off to Delilah later.

It isn't until finally moving back into the lounge that Casey's brown eyes are meeting Delilah's presence. Having not seen her before, well directly, having been swept around by Julia. As she is holding up said underwear, snarling out, Casey's lips are drifting up into a slight smile.

"They are certainly something miss."

Oh, you can just tell that Julia LOVES having the floor. She's one of the 'oldbies'; she's been at the park since they started hiring. Therefore! Busybody ain't the WORD. And when it comes to ingratiating oneself to the relatively recent arrival (2023?) of this jet-setting gentleman who has worked in all manner of fancy schticks...

WELL.

"Yes, Mr. Mateo!" Julia, fully intending to shlepp the task on to Delilah, nods once. She can feel the scrawny blonde boring holes into the back of her head with those sharp, dark eyes. Skirting Casey, the older woman goes out to the cart in the hallway that has been set up with all of the accoutrements of cleaning up after--

"Baboons." Delilah grumps, peering at the licorice-panties as they hang from the pencil, defeated. "Someone's been at these, to boot. The ass is eaten right out of them." Classy little snippet, isn't she.

The slight smile on Casey's face causes Del to cock her head, birdlike and curious. "I saw the marching orders downstairs. Aren't you supposed to be off...? Mr. Mateo, was it?" Wince, "Sorry you have to deal with this."

Raising up his shoulders first to Delilah, Casey's low pitched voice is exhaling out from his chest as he is assuring her, "I am but these things happen. I wouldn't be who I am, dedicated to this work and all of you as well as the guests if I wasn't staying on a little extra to access the." His voice pausing, his head turning to take in the room once more. Deciding just what to call all this.

"Damage."

That will do.

Glancing to the older woman once more, Casey is tapping his clipboard once more before telling Julia in that low pitch of his. "Thank you, Julia, for letting me know." Once more assuring the older woman as she is leaving the room, grudging out to get the vital equipment needed to document the whole scene. Granting Casey a few moments to bring his gaze back across to Delilah.

"This is a rough one it looks like. They have left quite a number on it. Need me to get you anything else before I file away these papers?"

When Casey sees Julia off and turns back 'round to face her, Delilah reads between the lines PRETTY quickly. Silence as she stands there holding the now-crotchless pair of edible undies, dark eyes looking the man over from head to toe. Not in THAT way, but assessing his level of 'straight-lacing' ...

"Say it, you know you wanna." Huh?

Now those eyes take on impish glint, "You don't wanna say 'damage', really. " Beat, "You wanna exorcise the demons by calling it for what it really is..." Pause for effect, "An absolute unhinged fuckshow."

That right, Casey!?

Moving his right hand into his pocket, allowing his clipboard to hang loosely by his side, Casey's well-kept eyebrows are lifting up for a moment as he is holding eye-to-eye with the blonde mouthful. A little step forwards into the room, his lips pulling into his mouth as the trained concierge is maintaining his business-like posture and stance.

"No, Miss I don't want to say damage really." Casey's fingertips are tapping against his side as the blonde woman is pausing. A little amused exhale drawing out of his nose, flaring the tips of them as a faint smile is meeting the older concierge's face. His head tilting a little, his gaze remaining on Delilah as he is replying.

"It is quite something. I mean based on what is around." Pausing to gaze over the room, "It looks like a filming session."

Ooooohh.

So we have one of THOSE sorts. No wonder this dude has come into this park with such high acclaim, because he's very clearly the textbook professional. No repeating of 'fuckshow' for Mr. Mateo! Delilah cocks her head like a confused dog, ink-dark eyes flickering with some manner of fleeting thought. As in: how can this man not coin this disaster for what it is? A FUCKSHOW.

Hitching a thumb into the tie of her smock, Delilah's eyes widen (back to looking impish) as she latches onto Casey's observation, "Think so? I mean, the candy bikini briefs are one sign! Hey, so," She trots over toward the mini fridge, yanks it open, closes it. "Nothing unsavory in here..." Straightening, she does a little prowl between the two double beds. Pulls open one of the drawers in a nightstand, still nothing. "Well, at least there's no toys."

That she knows of. Yet. Back to Casey, "I'm sure you've seen it all though, you've been places, haven't you?"

Standing in the room that fraction further, Casey's head is turning to watch Delilah go across the room to the mini fridge. His head tilting, just fractionally, to watch her arch forwards to open it. To trot, bend and yank before simply meeting her eyes on the report. The prowl again, turning his head a little this time, just barely raking his brown eyes over the curves of her calves and thighs beneath the uniform.

As she is coming back, he is just-barely curling the edges of his lips. Just barely smiling as the older man's deep voice is escaping out.

"Good. Shame they didn't leave behind the whipped cream. Mm?" Eyebrows again lifting up, a testing tone to his voice for Delilah before smoothly rolling on the top of his tongue, "Dubai was, possibly, the worst for such." Picking the word, "Interests in hotel rooms. Luxury flights. Money and the ability to get away with anything if you could just throw money at problems. Surprising perhaps."

Bless Casey's heart, there's not much curve to be seen, but there is enough to make her honest! Even in that swift, perhaps subconscious glance it can be gleaned that the housekeeper has nice legs. And those legs are mincing along, taking her to and fro between various points of debauchery. Eventually she's back to standing before the very-much-a-professional gent, hand still on her hip jauntily as she listens quite intently to Casey's 'dirt' on... Dubai?

"Well, I guess it kinda makes sense... Dubai is crazy rich, isn't it?" Her nostrils scrunch up, "It's usually the rich ones that are the biggest freaks! Because when you have that much money you just--exactly! Throw some paper at it! Oh, this horse in the hotel room is a problem? Have 2000 Emirati Dirhams!" How does this sprig of a smart-mouth know about foreign currency!? Hey, Del may have had a rough upbringing, but she was in it for school.

'And I wouldn't trust any of the whipped cream these baboons would've left beh---" Delilah, continuing her orbit to investigate, pauses at the side of the curious-looking armchair and crouches. The startle causes something rather to happen: suddenly, from beneath the hem of that skirt? A big, fluffy tail sprouts.. and it has bristled, tripling in thickness! A leopard tail!? It's fluffed up as such an appendage is wont to do, when a feline is spooked.

"They DAMAGED THE CUCK CHAIR." Huh?

Keeping his hand on his side, fingertips strumming against himself even, Casey's laugh is a little lower from his throat as the blonde woman is standing in front of him. Needing to angle his chin down to look at her face, to take in Delilah's brown eyes as his lips are curling up a fraction more. "Can pretty much be like that. Was a lot more cleaning up, or elaborate requests, while working there any anywhere else."

Glancing over his shoulder for a moment as he can hear Julia outside muttering louder this time, likely on the phone to yell about the situation to whoever was the fortunate (or unfortunate!) one on the other end. Bringing his attentions back to Delilah as she is moving across the room again, his forehead furrowing in, drawing in as that tail is well.

Sprouting.

"They-wait say that again." Glancing from the fluff to the only chair in the room knocked over, since hotels don't tend to have multiple cuck chairs. "The. Cuck. Chair?"

Oh Julia, she is in her element now. Busybody ain't the word; she does, however, mean so well. She loves her job, and she loves doing well at it... Delilah can't fault her that, even if the older woman drives her batshit sometimes.

"There's a reason I don't work in places like that." The blonde doesn't have the mettle to be in such high-flying, rich places.. she knows that, she won't fool anyone or herself thinking otherwise. She's kneeling alongside the affected chair, now, as she admits to such. Fingers caress over the side of the arm with the very tenderness of one comforting another human being. It is then that Delilah notices her tail, and with an apologetic look to Casey she stands and tries to stuff it back up her skirt. "Hell, sorry, this happens when I'm pissed off. It'll go down in a bit--" She's talking about it like some poor teenager would try to shrug off a tentpole in his pants.

"Wait. Hold up. You've... not..." Delilah looks like she needs to sit down, the shock hits her so deeply. How has this WORLDLY MAN NOT HEARD Of.. of.. o-of..

She plants her skinny ass into the cuck chair, palms splayed upon her knees. "So, ok, every room has one. Every room in every hotel, no matter the star rating. One star? Five? They all have these babies." Patpat the arm of the chair. "They are always facing the bed and/or BEDS." Beat. "No context. None." Patpat. The aproned goblin leans in to confer this knowledge, "It's a chair for cuckolds. The ones who like to watch other people bump uglies. This chair is MADE for that, this is known."

Exhaling a somewhat amused tone through his nose, Casey is staying steady on his feet while his head is tilting at the sight of her tail. A surprise, to say the least, but this is Spellbound after all. Surprise and unique is what this place does best. "Awkward moment in an argument, or you are playing around. You know, some roleplay. Or a love-hate relationship. Or watching a TV show and the characters do something you don't like."

Casey's mind briefly running on the idea of having something visible occurring as his own form of magic while watching Delilah readjust the chair back up. Walking across the room as if he is inspecting it, even as the blonde skinny ass woman is planting her ass down on it, he is exhaling that amused tone of air through his nose again. Something about Delilah making the older man laugh just-quietly within himself.

"Isn't that just a pervert or a voyeur?"

To be fair, Delilah is pretty amusing. Either through her own intent, or some of the stupid shit she does/says/thinks. Totally fair that Casey snickers to himself on more than a few occasions, in the company of this bumpkin. She is kiiiinda ridiculous. Folding one leg over the other beneath the hem of her skirt, Del gauge's the straight-laced professional's response to her explanation of this.... this mysterious entity in all venues of accommodation.

"Oh, it's happened lots," What, cuck chair matters, or...? The fluffy tail wriggles, "Arguments, eating something I don't like, stubbing a toe... etcetera etcetera. It's really annoying, but it has its uses." Ooooh, the tail. Eyes the color of dark oil paint twinkle with mirth as she latches back onto the, uh...

... lesson.... at hand.

"A pervert, voyeur... adventurous couple... and don't get me started on the splash zone--" AHEM. Del leans forth, eyeing Casey birdishly, "Do you have anything happen to you on-account of the magic, Mr. Mateo? Has to be cooler than a tail.."

There's a tilt of Casey's head, his gaze moving down to Delilah's legs as the bumpkin housekeeper is sat while crossing her legs. Fingers still on hips, tapping a little at the belt while listening.

His lips tightening for a moment as his face is betraying a curious lift of his eyebrows. A glimpse to the tail once more, before back to meet Delilah head on.

"To me? Less so. Though I can sooth nearly any issue. Along with understanding, quite well* nearly any language." A little shrug of his shoulders as the older man adds.

"Oh and dreams. Walking in, around and with dreams."

A little wriggle of that spotted length of floof... so oddly befitting of this agitated blonde snip that is on about cuck chairs and edible underwear. If she notices the look to her legs, she does not let on nor does she seem bothered by it. She knows what these leotards can do for legs!

Listening with deep interest, Delilah's eyes widen, "No shit! That's amazing! So sooth as it.. if you get an absolute batshit customer at the desk, you can get into their head and calm their ass down? Or..." Eyes wider, "You can CURSE AT THEM in Swahili!?" Eyes HUGE, "You can troll them in their DREAMS!!?"

Two hands slap down on each arm of the cuck chair, "Oh man, the fun you could have!"

Exhaling a little wry breath while curling the edges of his lips, Casey's eyebrows are lofting up once more to Delilah. His gaze settling upon her face still wearing a thin smile, "Sort of. I mean if I wanted to curse and 'troll' someone in their dreams." Casey's voice straining on the word troll as he is furrowing his forehead forming those thin wrinkles.

"Should I, Delilah, be concerned with what fun ideas you would have in mind? After all I can walk into dreams. Potentially including yours."

"If you wanted," Delilah echoes, "If I had that power set, I would be the nightmare of Karens, Kyles and room-wrecking baboon Chads everywhere..." She drawls out, giving the cuck arms one more succinct slap and pushing to stand. Julia is quiet in the hallway, save for the arranging of the cart. Delilah cocks her head, noting this, and gives the big ol' stiff-lipped drink of water a wry look. "Speaking of nightmare.."

Grin.

"I have to listen to Julia's response to what we find as we straighten this up. It's a surprise around every turn.. we haven't even turned down the bed clothes yet..." Delilah gives Casey a beleaguered look, dark eyes glinting.

"Anything else needed for your records, Mr. Mateo?" Grin.. blink. Pause.

"My dreams! Oh man.. there's a lot you would want to unsee if you galloped about in my head."

"Yes, well in your case that nightma..." Casey's voice is drawling out for a moment, the depths of his throat casting over the words as he is turning his head to watch where Delilah's gaze is going, following it back to the door as Julia is rummaging back for the door. Less flustered, less upset and with the faint smell of nicotine puffed into her mouth. "Nightmares are terrible things."

Drugs do wonders and Casey is swift to pivot.

"Nothing else needed Ms. Moore. I shall leave you two to..." Casey is trailing his voice again, there's repetition here but this time it is less being jump scared by Julia and more picking the right word to describe what he has played witness to. "To finish up. Else that is everything." Lifting up the board once more, Casey is holding against his side before turning to face Julia, nodding to the older woman before heading to the door.

Dreams to be or not to be seen...

Probably seen.