Safety first [Open/Active]
Who: Ricardo, Mello, and YOU!
Where: In the parlour
When: Day 001
What: In which Ricardo is on edge and Mello is a projectile weapon.
Warnings: Accidental violence? Possible language?
The foyer was large and unimpressive. It wasn't the dead flowers or the fine layer of dust that coated everything. Ricardo could care less about appearances. No, Ricardo was deeply unimpressed that he should be here at all. He'd experienced a few unnatural things in his life-- it went with the territory, being a Avatar-- but he had never once slipped and fell, then stood up in an entirely different place. This was... something of a setback.
He pressed his back against the wall and fingered the trigger to his rifle as he surveyed his surroundings. Empty. Why wasn’t there anyone there? The closet was a possible ambush site but not a likely one. The end of the foyer opened into a large parlour which was more likely, but rather open for someone to hide in. If someone were to come in through the double doors behind him, he would surely hear the heavy doors as they opened. There was no one there and if anyone was lying in wait, they were a very poor tactician to kidnap him away to a place with no good cover. Puzzling.
He wasn't about to waste time thinking about how he had gotten here. He could worry about that later. Right now, the priority was to figure out where 'here' was and why he had been kidnapped. Matthias had no reason to single him out-- she seemed more concerned with Luca than with Ange or himself. He didn't know what Albert was capable of, but he would have taken Ange directly rather than abduct her bodyguard. Oswald might hold a grudge from his last contract with the Garam military, but he was an utterly normal and fairly stupid man. There was no way he could have done this. And Gardel... Gardel was not an option. Ricardo didn’t let the train of thought go any further.
The doors wouldn’t open. He made a few half-hearted efforts to force them open by ramming them with his shoulder but gave up soon enough; the outside of the house might tell him ‘where’, but the inside could tell him ‘why.’ Right then-time to find out what was going on here. He readied his weapon and made his way slowly into the parlour.
Where: In the parlour
When: Day 001
What: In which Ricardo is on edge and Mello is a projectile weapon.
Warnings: Accidental violence? Possible language?
The foyer was large and unimpressive. It wasn't the dead flowers or the fine layer of dust that coated everything. Ricardo could care less about appearances. No, Ricardo was deeply unimpressed that he should be here at all. He'd experienced a few unnatural things in his life-- it went with the territory, being a Avatar-- but he had never once slipped and fell, then stood up in an entirely different place. This was... something of a setback.
He pressed his back against the wall and fingered the trigger to his rifle as he surveyed his surroundings. Empty. Why wasn’t there anyone there? The closet was a possible ambush site but not a likely one. The end of the foyer opened into a large parlour which was more likely, but rather open for someone to hide in. If someone were to come in through the double doors behind him, he would surely hear the heavy doors as they opened. There was no one there and if anyone was lying in wait, they were a very poor tactician to kidnap him away to a place with no good cover. Puzzling.
He wasn't about to waste time thinking about how he had gotten here. He could worry about that later. Right now, the priority was to figure out where 'here' was and why he had been kidnapped. Matthias had no reason to single him out-- she seemed more concerned with Luca than with Ange or himself. He didn't know what Albert was capable of, but he would have taken Ange directly rather than abduct her bodyguard. Oswald might hold a grudge from his last contract with the Garam military, but he was an utterly normal and fairly stupid man. There was no way he could have done this. And Gardel... Gardel was not an option. Ricardo didn’t let the train of thought go any further.
The doors wouldn’t open. He made a few half-hearted efforts to force them open by ramming them with his shoulder but gave up soon enough; the outside of the house might tell him ‘where’, but the inside could tell him ‘why.’ Right then-time to find out what was going on here. He readied his weapon and made his way slowly into the parlour.