Ugh, Phoenix thought to himself wryly, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, tentatively feeling out the floor with his feet (it wouldn't do if he was on a bunk bed on the top level and he somehow threw himself over the edge and broke his legs), and standing up. First I die, and then I have to somehow puzzle this out? I thought the afterlife would be a little less confusing - and not as complicated as this.
Feeling around like a blind man was less thrilling than Phoenix could ever imagine - switching the flashlight to his left hand, he felt around the room, nearly having a heart attack when he bumped into another bed. Flailing around off balance with an undignified squawk, he nearly capsized right into it, before he caught himself - and he was infinitely thankful to find that there was no one there, and the bedding hardly felt rumpled, even after his unfortunate endeavor into it.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Phoenix felt along the edge of the bed, finally encountering the wood of some piece of furniture. After some closer inspection, he discovered it was a desk - and after knocking down a weird, small square object that had ridges upon it onto a book of some sort, he managed to find the edge. Walking around to the front of it slowly, Phoenix's knees bumped into a chair, and he carefully pushed it aside as he knelt before the desk, feeling out the drawers. Maybe there are some batteries in here, he hoped silently to himself - but as he realized the drawers were locked and required some sort of key, he couldn't help but to feel slightly aggravated.
Standing up, Phoenix sat himself down on the chair, pondering his situation as he lifted his right hand, tapping his index finger upon his chin as he cradled it with his thumb. While the details of what he had just appeared into were a blank slate at best, Phoenix knew he had a few options - he had to either a) find a light switch for the room, b) find batteries for his flashlight, c) find a doorway out of the room, or d) lay down and hope that there was going to be some source of light after twelve hours - if there was a window, and if there was sunlight. And considering his confusion about what was going on around himself, Phoenix knew there was no way that he could tolerate laying down for hours on end - there had to be a solution to this puzzle, and he wasn't about to leave it to try to solve itself.
The search for a wall switch was unfruitful, though Phoenix found a doorway (presumably) out of the room and a closet on the way - though it didn't make much sense to open either, considering that he couldn't see anything and didn't want to alert anyone of his presence unless he could see himself. And after he rummaged around in his pockets, he found a small key ring and a set of keys - neither of which worked on the first desk he had first attempted entry. As he canvassed the room, however, Phoenix discovered that the side of his room that he had slept upon was an exact mirror of the other side - and after a few failed attempts at inserting the right key into the desk drawer, he was able to open it, discovering a set of batteries to his great relief.
"Ta-da," Phoenix said to himself with a smile, once he'd managed to put the batteries in the correct way and had flicked on the light - and in a moment of celebration, he danced the light all over the ceiling, before getting down to business.
The room was strangely barren, with the exception of a few things - the furniture, the journals, and the radios - and it left Phoenix feeling slightly disappointed, though he was happy to be able to observe objects with his eyeballs instead of his fingertips. Leaving the journal behind, Phoenix nabbed the small radio, managing to tuck the squareness of it awkwardly into his pocket. And a search of his closet proved beneficial, as well - though he had to sit down and tie the heavy boots up over his pants.
A quick look at the dog tag he had discovered revealed a few details: Peter Snide (Who the heck is that? Phoenix had wondered to himself), D Class, 11629267M - and as it provided no answers to anything, he tucked it back underneath his shirt and examined his outfit. Light blue uniform shirt, black trousers, black belt - none of it was important, though there was a band on his upper-left arm that had a smiley face on it. Making a mental note of all the details, Phoenix then stood up, taking a few steps and feeling out the boots - they weren't too heavy, and wouldn't hold him down from running.
Opening the door, Phoenix poked his head out hesitantly, discovering that the same inky darkness that had pervaded the bedroom remained outside - and stepping out, he closed the door behind himself quietly.
Here goes, afterlife, Phoenix thought to himself nervously, as he took a deep breath, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. I can't die twice, so show me what you have up your sleeve.
Feeling around like a blind man was less thrilling than Phoenix could ever imagine - switching the flashlight to his left hand, he felt around the room, nearly having a heart attack when he bumped into another bed. Flailing around off balance with an undignified squawk, he nearly capsized right into it, before he caught himself - and he was infinitely thankful to find that there was no one there, and the bedding hardly felt rumpled, even after his unfortunate endeavor into it.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Phoenix felt along the edge of the bed, finally encountering the wood of some piece of furniture. After some closer inspection, he discovered it was a desk - and after knocking down a weird, small square object that had ridges upon it onto a book of some sort, he managed to find the edge. Walking around to the front of it slowly, Phoenix's knees bumped into a chair, and he carefully pushed it aside as he knelt before the desk, feeling out the drawers. Maybe there are some batteries in here, he hoped silently to himself - but as he realized the drawers were locked and required some sort of key, he couldn't help but to feel slightly aggravated.
Standing up, Phoenix sat himself down on the chair, pondering his situation as he lifted his right hand, tapping his index finger upon his chin as he cradled it with his thumb. While the details of what he had just appeared into were a blank slate at best, Phoenix knew he had a few options - he had to either a) find a light switch for the room, b) find batteries for his flashlight, c) find a doorway out of the room, or d) lay down and hope that there was going to be some source of light after twelve hours - if there was a window, and if there was sunlight. And considering his confusion about what was going on around himself, Phoenix knew there was no way that he could tolerate laying down for hours on end - there had to be a solution to this puzzle, and he wasn't about to leave it to try to solve itself.
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"Ta-da," Phoenix said to himself with a smile, once he'd managed to put the batteries in the correct way and had flicked on the light - and in a moment of celebration, he danced the light all over the ceiling, before getting down to business.
The room was strangely barren, with the exception of a few things - the furniture, the journals, and the radios - and it left Phoenix feeling slightly disappointed, though he was happy to be able to observe objects with his eyeballs instead of his fingertips. Leaving the journal behind, Phoenix nabbed the small radio, managing to tuck the squareness of it awkwardly into his pocket. And a search of his closet proved beneficial, as well - though he had to sit down and tie the heavy boots up over his pants.
A quick look at the dog tag he had discovered revealed a few details: Peter Snide (Who the heck is that? Phoenix had wondered to himself), D Class, 11629267M - and as it provided no answers to anything, he tucked it back underneath his shirt and examined his outfit. Light blue uniform shirt, black trousers, black belt - none of it was important, though there was a band on his upper-left arm that had a smiley face on it. Making a mental note of all the details, Phoenix then stood up, taking a few steps and feeling out the boots - they weren't too heavy, and wouldn't hold him down from running.
Opening the door, Phoenix poked his head out hesitantly, discovering that the same inky darkness that had pervaded the bedroom remained outside - and stepping out, he closed the door behind himself quietly.
Here goes, afterlife, Phoenix thought to himself nervously, as he took a deep breath, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. I can't die twice, so show me what you have up your sleeve.
[to here.]
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