guest work

TalesFromTheFrontDesk: Room 000 has a Service Dog

We have a guest in house who NEVER leaves ANYONE alone. This includes but is not limited to:

-Front Desk Staff

-Breakfast Staff

-Housekeepers

-Guests….ALL THE GUESTS

I returned to work yesterday after being out for several days sick. I was informed of Guest Zero and how clingy and needy he was. How he rarely left the desk and you immediately knew his life story. BOY WERE THEY RIGHT. The first time I met this guy he stared at my badge for a good 30 seconds then begin to introduce himself, his medical history, and why he was staying at our hotel. Later throughout the night he would return to the desk and luckily I was busy most of the time. However, the unlucky people were the families and other guests arriving who he bombarded with conversation as they walked in the door. They would leave the desk and he would hold them at the elevator chatting (they would try to leave but he would keep holding them and they would keep holding the elevator door trying to leave). One couple was held for 10 minutes while he discussed his previous Heroin addiction. Unfortunately I can’t ask a guest to leave or stop doing something unless someone complains…

But Guest Zero also has a “Service Dog”. This Service Dog chews things off his collar, pulls on his owner, has to smell everything, and is the most friendly and attention seeking Service Dog I have seen that is “on duty”. The Service Dog is never with him unless he takes the dog outside. And it seems odd to me how often he hangs out in our lobby without ever having his service dog. Even more so, whenever he leaves the hotel the dog stays in the room. (Having said this - I do understand there are service dogs that aren’t required to be with the owner 24/7, this is just another odd thing that stands out)

While I can’t confirm the dog truly isn’t a Service Dog, there are too many red flags that make me think the guest is lying. It’s people such as this that lie to get their animal into a hotel or place of business that really bother me. It makes those of us that actually need a service dog look bad.

But in the dog’s defense - he is the cutest Pitbull I have seen this week. PROPS TO YOU DOG!

(Sorry for the long post) TL/DR; Guest annoys others,won’t leave people alone, and he wants everyone to know his business. Said guest also has a “service dog” whose behavior raises many red flags to make this FDA think otherwise.

EDIT: UPDATE! If a Service Dog is in “Service” or doing it’s job, YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO PET THE ANIMAL. My Housekeeping Supervisor went up and pet the dog. Owner said nothing about the dog being in service, in fact, he commented on how she is a social butterfly and can’t keep her attention. WTF?!?

By: Irish828

Jonathan Demme's Former Assistant: "He Changed My Life" (Guest Column)

Rebecca Eskreis worked as Demme’s assistant from 2014 to 2016. She’s currently prepping to direct her first feature.

When I heard the news that Jonathan Demme had passed away, I felt a piece of my entire being wither. And yet, in my profound sorrow at the loss of this great man, my former boss and mentor, I also experienced an intense feeling of déjà vu. I’d felt this way before: Venice, Italy, August 2015.

Let me explain. 

Two years ago, Jonathan was selected to head up the Orizzonti Jury of the Venice Film Festival, and as I was his assistant, I went along. After checking into the hotel, Jonathan said "Becca, let’s meet down here in an hour and check out the opening night film, k?“ Sure. Easy enough.

An hour later, we met in the hotel lobby. But unlike two hours earlier, the place was swarming with press. And fans. And more fans. Our festival guide held us back behind a velvet rope. Then, introduced us to our bodyguard (bodyguard?), who quickly ushered Jonathan and me through the throngs of people who were shouting "Signor Demme! Autograph!” and into a limo…which was also mobbed with fanatic spectators. As our car slowly parted the sea of humans, Jonathan turned to me and said “Isn’t this fun?” I nodded, hoping to hide the adrenaline rush coursing through my body.

We arrived at the red carpet, where there were now thousands shouting and clawing for autographs, while camera bulbs flashed incessantly. I wanted desperately to run away, but our guide gestured for me to follow Jonathan onto the red carpet, following his photo op. I sprinted through, feeling so insecurely out of place. We headed inside the theater and were immediately guided to the best seats in the house, of course. Everyone was shaking Jonathan’s hand. Graciously, he introduced me to all who passed by, including Bruno Ganz, which made my wired brain nearly explode.

At this point, my hands were sweating and shaking and I felt like Zelig.

Suddenly, the lights flickered then dimmed and I became aware of why I was nearing a panic attack: I’d forgotten just how world famous Jonathan was.

Of course, I knew Jonathan was one of the most recognized and revered filmmakers in the world. He swept the Oscars! He basically invented the concert film. It’s why I leapt at the chance to work for him. But the thing about Jonathan was that in his day-to-day life as a working filmmaker and humanitarian, he was a down to earth, approachable person who treated everyone equally and respectfully, so much so that you kind of forgot just what a huge creative life force he was on planet earth.  

I first met Jonathan Demme on a street corner in Rye, NY in August 2014. I was there, on location, to interview to be his assistant on Ricki and the Flash. At thirty years old, to quote Terry Santiel in Jonathan’s last feature, Justin Timberlake + The Tennessee Kids. I’d been in the game for a minute. A minute longer than I wanted to be an assistant, frankly. But when you’re an aspiring director who is unemployed, and you get the call on Monday to interview with Jonathan Demme on Wednesday, you volunteer to come in, like, within the hour. But only if he wants you too, of course. Because he’s Jonathan Demme.

So there I was, waiting patiently on the street corner designated by the hiring producer in his email, expecting a PA to fetch me. But instead, a man in a bright orange sweatshirt bounded up the hill. I quickly realized that it was Jonathan himself - and I wondered if I’d somehow mangled the interview instructions. Instead, he gave a big smile and stuck out his hand - “Hi Rebecca, I’m Jonathan. I’m super impressed by your resume.” Huh? My resume?

We made small talk as the crew bustled behind us – and I kept waiting for the actual interview to start. After we chatted for about 15 minutes, he paused, then said "Becca. Do you want to come hang out in video village?“

Read more: Critic’s Notebook: Jonathan Demme Enriched Movies With Diversity, Humanism and Great Music

I would soon learn that when Jonathan asks "Do you want to ____” the blank will likely be filled by an event that will change your life. The best approach? Just say yes, and hold on for the ride. 

For example, about a month after I’d been hired, Jonathan turned me during lunch and asked, “Do you want to go to Vegas for New Years? Because I’m going to direct a Justin Timberlake concert film and I think it’s going to be great!” That documentary project would turn out to be my first producing credit on a feature film. Or, three months later, when Jonathan said, “Do you want to come with me to Los Angeles and screen Ricki and the Flash for a few friends?” Cut to dinner, after the screening, where I find myself sharing a pizza with Maya Rudolph, while Paul Thomas Anderson, Jonathan and Roger Corman share stories of years gone by. Again, head nearly exploding.

Sure, rubbing shoulders with famous and interesting people was part of working for someone like Jonathan. But working for him involved surprises outside the realm of filmmaking as well. One afternoon, we were wrapping up in the cutting room and Jonathan asked, “Do you want to come to Sing Sing for their inmate graduation ceremony?” Yes, Sing Sing, the maximum-security prison. Two days later, we were filming sixty men who had gone through the Mercy College program while they received their college degrees. It was one of the most moving evenings of my entire life. Afterwards, during the reception, I watched as Jonathan talked up a few of the grads and their families. I wondered if these men knew they were talking to an Oscar-winning director. In fact, I’m sure they didn’t. But in a way, that was the whole point - like the rest of us normal people, Jonathan was a respectful observer in these incarcerated men’s momentous occasion.

I could go on, as I never tire of telling Jonathan stories, or reliving the great or humbling moments of working for and with him. Like the countless actors, musicians, filmmakers and public figures who came forward to mourn his death, I, too, an unknown person, felt that knowing and working with Jonathan changed my life. He built confidence in those he met with his positive spirit, endless creativity and seemingly unlimited energy. Every day that I worked for Jonathan, I was inspired to live curiously and to remain fascinated by the beauty and mundanity of the world. And, to always celebrate each accomplishment - or day’s end - with a martini.

I’ll end with another story from that same day we arrived in Venice. The plane touched down, and Jonathan’s cell phone did not work, nor did the European rental we’d painstakingly tracked down to match his Verizon flip phone. As we gathered our luggage and found our car waiting outside, I frantically woke up everyone I could reach in New York, trying to find a replacement phone to ship out. We boarded our water taxi and took off for Lido, where the festival is headquartered, as I continued making phone calls, trying to reach Verizon’s international hotline. I sat below the deck, screaming at some poor woman who was trying to explain that there was just no way to make his American phone work. Suddenly, I heard Jonathan yelling my name from above deck. I hung up the phone, took a deep breath and poked my head out from below, sure that Jonathan was anxious for an update on the disappointing cell phone situation. Instead, I found him perched at the front of the speed boat, hat blowing in the wind, big smile on his face. “Get off the phone and come on up here! You’re missing Venice!” Relieved, I climbed up on the deck and joined him as the our water taxi zoomed out into the Laguna Veneta towards lido.

Read more: ‘Lambs’ Actor Ted Levine Remembers Jonathan Demme’s Directing Style

How about Enjolras who stress cleans?

Combeferre and Courfeyrac both know from living with Enjolras that the state of the house is a clear indication of how stressed Enjolras is.

  • A clean kitchen means that Enjolras is stuck on a part of his essay or speech and needs half an hour to come up with just the right phrase.
  • Their bedrooms all tidied up means that he’s finished off a major piece of work and isn’t happy with the result but just can’t get it to work.
  • Enjolras following you around with a broom and dustpan and yelling at you for dropping crumbs on the floor means he’s just had a particularly awful argument conversation or read something that really made him angry and it’s best to stay out of his way.
  • Coming home to a house smelling like hospital grade cleaning products means Enjolras is worried about someone and doesn’t know how to express his concern

Combeferre and Courfeyrac have learnt to just let Enjolras be when he gets like this, knowing he’ll come out of it in his own time.

But Grantaire hasn’t lived with Enjolras before, so when they start dating, he doesn’t know that avoiding the stressed blonde is perfectly acceptable. So instead, he comes up with his own way of helping Enjolras deal.

  • Grantaire who introduces Enjolras to stress baking so that they can at least enjoy the fruits of all that energy spent.
  • Grantaire who takes Enjolras to his studio so that their fearless leader can take his aggression out on paints and then pass it off as Enjolras creating art (”people get paid obscene amounts to do this you know, and you’re a natural - I think you could get rich from this!”)
  • Grantaire who sits down with Enjolras one day and researches on environmentally friendly cleaning products and alternatives to store bought products (”all the blogs say baking soda and vinegar, E - we’ll need to go shopping”) because he doesn’t like how dry and calloused Enjolras’s hands are because the dope doesn’t bother with gloves when he cleans.

Enjolras learns to make the most delicious puff pastries and home-made macarons (and Grantaire starts complaining he’s putting on weight).

Grantaire sneaks in one of E’s artwork in his exhibition as a guest work and calls it “Fury” - it sells for obscene amounts of money (much to Enjolras’s dismay and Grantaire’s delight)

Yandere!Kara x Ichimatsu Comic

This is that “angsty” comic that I spent way too long on i dont know why, it’s not even that angsty anyway.. under the cut for yandere and abuse. It’s not crazy or anything, but still there.

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Her hair was like burnished copper, streaked with flaming shafts of radiance cast by the dying sun, bleeding red on the horizon.  The splotch of freckles thrown across her dewy skin was filtered rubicund in this light, eerily reminiscent of splattered plasma thrown across the ridge of her nose, her cheeks.  There were colorful feathers in her hair, woven into the straight waterfall of red, and these, too, (even polychromatic as they were) had caught the light and sparked crimson.

He did not even need to utter a command to his sentinels — those few that remained had already splayed out, moving wraithlike through the long shadows cast by the charred remains of the Dalish aravels.  He knew already what they would find — or what they wouldnt

Abelas might have glanced down at the artifact taken into his care — an ancient elvhen device, older than himself.  Older, perhaps, than Arlathan itself, but not even he could  not ascertain all its secrets, not even from this artifact with which he had once been so familiar.

{ perhaps it was no wonder he had been led
here, to the ruin of the People, to this girl—
}

—But he did not need to look.  The artifact had brought him to this place, and the girl would lead him in turn.  He knew that she was the last of the People that lingered here, in this place that had once been full of life.  It was now little more than a graveyard, and Falon’Din had long ago abandoned his charges to the Void.

Whatever could be gleaned from this smoking ruin of a camp would be information alone — the only survivor stood before him, her eyes bright and intelligent.  Yet Abelas was old, and he could read in the youth that which was not advertised in words.  Her eyes showed the fear that she would not admit, and he looked down at the blood on his hands.  It was hours old, dried into pitch and flecked off the oxidized bronze of his gauntlets.  The symbolism was already enough to twist his gut, to curl his lips into something bitter and cruel — but he did not.  He was as stoic as a carved slab of veined marble, even as the metallic tinge of blood sat heavy in the air.

There was a pregnant silence between them, and the former sentinel knelt with deliberate slowness.  His eyes were nearer to level with her own, and he captured her with the focused intensity of his gaze.  The artifact had given him a vision of this girl, saved only by the virtue of luck - or fate - and pinned as her own mother had bled out over her.  The enemy had not seen.  And so she lived, even as the others had died.  Abelas was not one to be moved by feelings of pity, but he did understand what it was to be alone and without a people.  Without purpose.

“You’ve a destiny, da’len."   He would not offer her words of comfort.  Nothing he could do would censure the pain, the unjustice done her.  The maddened apostate he had slain — possessed, and leading a bad of marauders — would not undo, in death, the horrors they had committed in life.  There was only the assurance that they would trouble only her memories.  Nothing more.  "Nothing can take that destiny from you.”

In his piety - or his z e a l o t r y - he was confident that Mythal’s hand had guided him here.  He knew not what role this girl might play in the unfolding story that was yet to come — but he was certain of her definite place in it.  Abelas had never believed himself the foci around which all things necessarily pivoted.  He had been pledged to the goddess’ service as a youth, and in it he would stay, he felt, as long as he drew breath.  Even when there was no clear place for him, not in this brave new world — he would stay.

Beneath long red lashes, her eyes were large and clear.  There were doubts, he was sure, that must have churned within her, but any sign of it could not be seen.  To his tremendous surprise, she reached out and enfolded his hand within her own, no longer afraid.  She was not beholden to sorrows, as he was.  Even in the midst of all this death, she had found reason to smile — she had seen a stranger do her a kindness, and she would see it returned in time.  It was not something that Abelas could fully comprehend, this elasticity of spirit.  This hope that she carried, burning brightly, in her breast.

“I know.” She said.  “My name is Sanaa.”

And her words were laden with the promise of change.

Eye for an Eye

Part 8: Fear

Part 1|Part 7

The pain was the first thing that registered after the shock of realising where he was. His whole body ached dully, his face stung, especially around his eye. He tried to reach up instinctively, but his wrists were caught in the cuffs by his sides. He tested them, attempting to squirm free, twisting against the restraints, when he heard movement behind him. He twisted his head around and was just able to make out Jeremy’s form, sitting against the far wall in the chair he used to observe from…

When Ryan was the one performing the experiments.

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4
bioflavenoid

asked

routadraws

:


Hey could you draw more of agent Florida with quotes? I really love how you put the two together! :D

i hope youre okay with me also including him in his teal armor because i kinda sorta ran out of Florida quotes, that dude has one fucking line as a Freelancer in the entire show, what a shame if anyone wants me to draw him (or anyone, really) saying lines from fanfiction or something i can do that too the last picture is a painting ive been working on before you asked me to draw more of him so i thought i might as well include that too sorry that this isnt as good as the first b-flo post, my art is currently going through a phase called what the fuck am i doing

anonymous asked:

I just had the phrase "The Great Bitty-Parse War of Attrition" pop into my head. Is there any chance you can write something inspired by that phrase

I’ve been saving this prompt for … a while… lol. But here it is! Poor Jack is caught in the middle. 

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Just say it.”

“I won’t.”

Bitty pulls away the cherry almond pie that has been wafting under Kent’s nose, a quiet promise, and it’s all Kent can do not to chase the smell. With one last mournful look at the golden almond streusel, the bright red cherry still bubbling under the crust, Kent wrenches his eyes back to Bitty with a determined glare. It’s gonna take more than delicious, made-with-love pastries to change his mind on this.

The front door clicks open but neither Bitty nor Kent dares to be the first to look away.

“Hey boys- oh.”

In his peripheral, Kent can see Jack taking in the scene before him: Kent in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a straight back and crossed arms, and Bitty leaning forward, one hand braced against the old wood while the other spins the pie plate temptingly.

“You still arguing about this?” Jack takes several small steps backwards, trying to escape without getting caught in the vortex. He’s managed to stay neutral so far, but Kent’s not sure how long that will last.

“Kent was just about to apologize,” Bitty says brightly, pushing the pie back in closer to Kent, close enough to feel the warmth of it. “Wasn’t he?”

“Never.”

Bitty’s cheshire cat grin falls into something truly terrifying for a moment, and Kent swears he can see Bitty’s teeth glint.  

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2

Quick thing for @springtrap-trash! Happy birthday!

dan works at disney world, as a cast member. someone who directs tourists to the correct rides and trades pins with the guests. while working his nine o’ clock shift during a parade, he sees phil on one of the floats, as prince charming. and prince charming he was. basically dan stares at him for too long, phil notices, and they Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo in the bathroom.

Me after work

outside : *mumbles Be Our Guest’s lyrics*

at home, right after closing my front door : bE OUR GUEST BE OUR GUEST OUR COMMAND IS YOUR REQUEST IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE WE’VE HAD ANYBODY HERE AND WE’RE OBSESSED WITH YOUR MEAAAAAAL WITH YOUR EAAAAASE YES INDEEEED WE AIM TO PLEAAAAASE WHILE THE CANDLELIGHT’S STILL GLOOOOWIIIING LET US HELP YOU WE’LL KEEP GOOOOOING

*brief instrumental pause*

COUUUUUURSE BYYYYY COUUUUURSE OOONE BY OOOONE TIL YOU SHOUT ENOUGH I’M DONE THEN WE’LL SING YOU OFF TO SLEEP AS YOU DIGEEEEEEEEEST TONIGHT YOU’LL PROP YOUR FEET UP BUT FOR NOW LET’S EAAAAT UP BE OUR GUEEEEEEST

BE OUR GUEEEEEEEEST

BE OUR GUEEEEEEST

PLEAAAAASE BEEEEE OUUUUUR GUEEEEEEEST

amlied  asked:

One more thing about Quotidien, they don't ask invasive or personal questions, they let guests talk about their work (writing process, shooting a movie for the first time). And musical guests are asked to do the weather forecast so we might get Harry talking about the sun 😀

That actually sounds fantastic!  I can’t wait :)

🌻🌻🌻🌻

This fluffy one shot is dedicated to the amazing Nate ( @mikaelboukhalls ) and the lovely Isi ( @isisisak ) who I both love very much

🌻🌻🌻🌻

It’s way too early in the morning and Isak isn’t entirely sure how Even managed to coax him out of bed on a Sunday, but here they are, cooking what Even keeps calling the best breakfast ever. Just as Even is pushing Isak against the kitchen counter with kisses that are bound to turn into more the bell rings.

“He’s early,” Even notes, pulling himself out of Isak’s reach. “Please don’t burn the house down while I’m away.”

“The door is literally there, Even, I think I’ll manage,” Isak says, rolling his eyes. Even just grins at him.

“Eskild told me some very horrifying stories, like something about pancakes…” even thankfully gets interrupted by the doorbell ringing again.

“Just go open the door. I think I’ll manage.” Even’s laugh makes his stomach flutter, even after all the months they’ve been together.

Sure, Isak can perfectly manage the kitchen and the like five things that are cooking and baking at once, thanks, but… when Even comes back followed by his best friend he’s very grateful.

“Good morning, Isak,” Mikael says brightly. “I’ve got a present for you two.” He lifts the plastic bag up that he’s carrying with him.

“Present?” Isak asks, as Even takes his place by his side again and saves their perfect breakfast from doom.

“Yes. I’ll wait until we’re all sitting down, though. Can I help?” Mikael asks, but Even immediately signals him to sit down.

“You’re a guest in our house and our guests don’t have to work,” he says, while simultaneously flipping a pancake over in mid air. Why does he always have to be so extra?

Our house. Those words still do something to Isak. They make him a little dizzy, but he has never been happier.

It doesn’t take that long for breakfast to be ready. Isak and Mikael (who just started helping out before the other boys could object) set the table, while Even takes care of making sure everything is ready.

By the time they sit down the whole kitchen table is full of food and Isak is sure they’re going to be able to eat leftovers for half a week.

“Håper det smaker,” Even says, but Mikael stops him.

“Wait, wait. I have a present for you guys remember!” He grabs the plastic bag and hands it over to Isak who puts it between him and Even.

“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped up, but as you know Even my wrapping skills suck, so.” It’s one of those flower pots where all you need to do is add the earth. It’s cool and their very first plant, but that doesn’t explain the laughing fit Even has. He clutches his sides and Mikael isn’t doing much better.

“Am I missing something?” That just makes them laugh harder.

“I can’t believe this. You never told him that story?” Mikael asks, after they calmed down a little.

“It never came up,” Even says with a shrug.

“Okay, so what’s the story?”

“The first time Mikael met my parents he um…”

“I was so nervous I bought his mother sunflowers.”

“Isn’t your mom-”

“Allergic to literally all flowers on the planet? Yes, she is.”

“But she didn’t tell me that. She just took them and put them in a vase and-”

“Ended up sneezing the rest of the day.”

“And the hives…”

“But, she wouldn’t let us take them away either. Because she loved them so much. She even called Mikael the sunflower child. Sometimes I think she loves you more than me, man,” Even says laughing. Mikael just gives him a sheepish grin.

“You just don’t try hard enough at the whole son thing,” he says and Even just rolls his eyes at him.

“I’m pretty sure she loves Isak more than anyone on earth, though. I was pretty sure she wanted to adopt him,” Even says, interlacing his fingers with Isak’s. Isak just smiles.

“Aw, look at you two being cute. It’s so sickening it almost makes me want to skip out on all of this great food you made us,” Mikael says, before loading up his plate. “Almost.”

So they eat and talk about school and work and this break dance tournament Mikael is excited about. They eat and they talk and they game and they joke.

Mikael the sunflower child and Even the sun. Isak is so happy Even has Mikael back into his life, and he’s happy he gained a new friend.

Hi everyone!

As some of you may have noticed on the demo, we here at KTT Inc. love references and cameos. And those of you that follow the game closely, may already know that one of the areas of the game will be an Inn, where guests stay while Amaya works her hocus pocus on them.

As such, we decided to open up some slots for cameos of your OC’s to be guests at the Inn! We have 4 slots available, so reblog this post with your character’s picture reference along with a brief description for us to write flavor text and dialogue! (we will run this by you for approval, so don’t worry about your character saying stuff they wouldn’t!). If you’d rather not share your character publicly, you can also send the info to kagototorii@gmail.com! 


Conditions are the following:
- Must be an adult human (or an adult version of your child character, if you’d like)
- Must have single color hair (as in, no rainbows or multi-colored streaks)
- A reason to visit the Inn (a curse, possession, tourism, spoopy stuff. This suggestion might be subject to change on our end.)
-They will be wearing the Inn’s yukata (Pictured above. You don’t need to draw them with it, you can send the references with any clothes) to fit into the universe. They will have their own pixel sprite made by Rann and portrait drawn by Nuei.

We will select 4 characters and announce them on February 21st!

UPSIDE DOWN: for days when you feel like hiding, curling inside yourself and never coming out

• Breathe Me / Sia
• Youth / Daughter
• Skinny Love / Birdy
• Turning Page / Sleeping At Last
• All We Do / Oh Wonder
• Smother / Daughter
• I Found / Amber Run
• Weather / Novo Amor
• Atlas: Body / Sleeping At Last
• Anchor / Novo Amor
• In The Woods / Aron Wright
• Tell Mama / The Civil Wars
• Bird / Billie Marten
• Catalogue / Penny and Sparrow

__________________

  Amateur, broken, pretentious poet.

  a favorite poem / more of my work