(no subject)
[The room is open and bright, all old, dark wood and sunlight spilling in through the large windows. It's a nice enough room, walls lined with bookcases and with a large fireplace on one side. In the centre of the room is a table and two chairs, and on the table a chessboard. The pieces aren't black and white but made of wood, one side the colour of maple the other stained darker. There is a half-drunk glass of brandy by the chessboard, lipstick smudged on the side, and the record player in the corner is playing Glenn Miller. Everything about the room speaks of an earlier time - unless, of course, you're from an earlier time yourself. Then it probably doesn't.
There's a woman by the window, a cigarette held carelessly in her hand as she leans out the open window. Red lipstick marks the end of the little white cylinder. She looks like she belongs here, which is to say she has the same sense of an earlier time. She's wearing a pale blue dress, buttoned down the front and belted at the waist, and heels, her brown hair curling around her shoulders. Though she looks fairly harmless, there's a sense of something. A pressure at the back of your mind, like someone reaching out and touching. She freezes and glances over her shoulder. Her eyes are blue, their intent focus at odds with her otherwise calm expression. When she speaks, she sounds curious, but not alarmed. However, there is a definite hint of steel beneath her British accent. It's a warning for anyone who might want to cause trouble.]
How did you get here?
There's a woman by the window, a cigarette held carelessly in her hand as she leans out the open window. Red lipstick marks the end of the little white cylinder. She looks like she belongs here, which is to say she has the same sense of an earlier time. She's wearing a pale blue dress, buttoned down the front and belted at the waist, and heels, her brown hair curling around her shoulders. Though she looks fairly harmless, there's a sense of something. A pressure at the back of your mind, like someone reaching out and touching. She freezes and glances over her shoulder. Her eyes are blue, their intent focus at odds with her otherwise calm expression. When she speaks, she sounds curious, but not alarmed. However, there is a definite hint of steel beneath her British accent. It's a warning for anyone who might want to cause trouble.]
How did you get here?