There's something so powerful...
If you're of a type to look in the more unusual corners of the Mansion - namely down the far hallways or up to the ceiling - you may get a bit of entertainment today thanks to a pair of certain residents.
Those venturing down the long hallways on the higher floors might come across a simple wooden door, behind which seems be an assortment of sounds originating from a gym: squeaking shoes, clanging metal, and confident, uneven footsteps and harsh breathing from a single person.
Inside is a wooden floor and an assortment of blue landing mats, true, but it's not quite a gym. Few gyms have such a wide and varied (and tall) assortment of artificial rock faces. They tower up to the distant ceiling, marked only by infrequent hand- and footholds. Any potential grappling targets are high on the cement walls, on smooth areas without rock and far out of conventional reach. The center of the room is staggered with free-standing rock columns (many with their tops cut off at sharp angles, as if sheared by the downward force of a giant knife) and an assortment of grid metal poles that are climbable but precariously narrow. Various metal bars hang from the ceiling, occasionally providing the only possible path between the top of one structure and another.
One Shinichi Kudo of a middling twenty-something years of age is currently swinging from one of those bars, dressed in a thin long-sleeved shirt and simple black pants, and evidently not harnessed to a single thing. This doesn't seem to bother him much, as he gathers momentum in a final swing and then throws himself forward above and over a thirty foot drop to land lightly on one of the narrow poles. He wobbles a moment, his arms thrown out for balance, then quickly steadies and aims for his next landing target.
For those more inclined to greater heights, the Mansion's lobby is the place to be - or more specifically, the empty air above it, stretching upwards forever as the building's infinite staircases spiral up around the edges. Many, many, many many many many stories above the ground, a thick cord of webbing is anchored securely between one side of the grand stairwell and the other, forming a narrow tightrope path maybe 8-10 meters across.
Standing calmly on this cord, arms out for balance and already several meters away from safety, an Aoko Nakamori is steadily making her way across. She seems about as old as the Kudo from the gym, dressed in sneakers, capris, and a padded black vest over a blue tank top. She does have a harness, but it's a simple affair and not immediately noticeable: just a strong cord and a couple of carabiners, tethered to the main line at one end and Aoko's waist at the other. Even as you watch she slips, quickly catching herself by folding a leg over the rope and 'sitting' on it, and grumbling swears while she waits for it to stop swaying up and down.
((Tagging with both raider!Aoko and raider!Shinichi, simply state your preference by specifying the setting. The "gym" is rather reminiscent of one belonging to a certain Lara Croft, though it's a bit grander and not an exact match. Others may recognize Aoko's activity as highlining/slacklining.))
Those venturing down the long hallways on the higher floors might come across a simple wooden door, behind which seems be an assortment of sounds originating from a gym: squeaking shoes, clanging metal, and confident, uneven footsteps and harsh breathing from a single person.
Inside is a wooden floor and an assortment of blue landing mats, true, but it's not quite a gym. Few gyms have such a wide and varied (and tall) assortment of artificial rock faces. They tower up to the distant ceiling, marked only by infrequent hand- and footholds. Any potential grappling targets are high on the cement walls, on smooth areas without rock and far out of conventional reach. The center of the room is staggered with free-standing rock columns (many with their tops cut off at sharp angles, as if sheared by the downward force of a giant knife) and an assortment of grid metal poles that are climbable but precariously narrow. Various metal bars hang from the ceiling, occasionally providing the only possible path between the top of one structure and another.
One Shinichi Kudo of a middling twenty-something years of age is currently swinging from one of those bars, dressed in a thin long-sleeved shirt and simple black pants, and evidently not harnessed to a single thing. This doesn't seem to bother him much, as he gathers momentum in a final swing and then throws himself forward above and over a thirty foot drop to land lightly on one of the narrow poles. He wobbles a moment, his arms thrown out for balance, then quickly steadies and aims for his next landing target.
For those more inclined to greater heights, the Mansion's lobby is the place to be - or more specifically, the empty air above it, stretching upwards forever as the building's infinite staircases spiral up around the edges. Many, many, many many many many stories above the ground, a thick cord of webbing is anchored securely between one side of the grand stairwell and the other, forming a narrow tightrope path maybe 8-10 meters across.
Standing calmly on this cord, arms out for balance and already several meters away from safety, an Aoko Nakamori is steadily making her way across. She seems about as old as the Kudo from the gym, dressed in sneakers, capris, and a padded black vest over a blue tank top. She does have a harness, but it's a simple affair and not immediately noticeable: just a strong cord and a couple of carabiners, tethered to the main line at one end and Aoko's waist at the other. Even as you watch she slips, quickly catching herself by folding a leg over the rope and 'sitting' on it, and grumbling swears while she waits for it to stop swaying up and down.
((Tagging with both raider!Aoko and raider!Shinichi, simply state your preference by specifying the setting. The "gym" is rather reminiscent of one belonging to a certain Lara Croft, though it's a bit grander and not an exact match. Others may recognize Aoko's activity as highlining/slacklining.))