-67- Live and Let Die
[Faye is looking tired and annoyed, leaning against the wall next to a certain door-- as many seem to be doing lately. She's got an overflowing ashtray by her feet, and her journal in her hand]
Dibs on the big lobby couch tonight.
[room 314]
[whether you get by Faye, or slip in when she's not around, watch your step when you enter her room. While many people found their rooms growing to mind-boggling sizes and shapes over the last couple of days, Faye's room got smaller.
Cramped and dim, her room seems to be mostly that of what you'd expect a little girl to have. Toys and a dresser, cabinets and closets all bunched together against the walls. Some areas are somehow a little different, almost futuristic but still worn down and very lived-in. There's even what seems to be some sort of medical tank shoved up between two bookcases. Everything just all jammed together as if it actually belongs that way.
And, oh, the clutter. Things piled on, and around, and under every available surface. Stuffed animals and music boxes and jewelry and dice, plants crowding the window, a pinwheel stuck in a cup of pens. Magazines and bowls full of shells and feathers and cigarette butts, empty bottles spilling out from under the bed. Everything a little hard to see in the poor light. And then there are the drawers and dozens upon dozens of boxes, chests and cabinets, but most seem to be locked up tight and covered in dust.
Incongruent and messy, but it almost could have been considered cozy, if it had not been for the things so obviously wrong. After entering, turning around won't show you the back wall of the room and door you should be able to exit again. There is only the unimaginable and terrifying black of space-- as if the room is a three-walled movie set careening through the galaxy. Occasionally a can will roll, or bit of paper will flutter, spilling right off the edge and into nothing. ...Unfortunately, you will have to do so as well if you want to leave this room again. Going to the windows, looking beyond the curtains will show nothing-- just a blinding light that imitates morning and should be illuminating the room but isn't, with spare glimpses of maybe a beach, or a yard. The mirror on the dresser is the worst, however. It skews whatever it reflects to the point of being barely recognizable. Figures look gray or monstrous or fading, all objects cheap and broken.
The only real light comes from a TV, sometimes blaring the obnoxious sounds of what seems to be a show for bounty hunters, sometimes looping a certain video.
And living in it all, is a girl. Reading books on her bed or fiddling with the VCR, she looks up and greets any intruders with a tense smile.]
Um... hi.
Dibs on the big lobby couch tonight.
[room 314]
[whether you get by Faye, or slip in when she's not around, watch your step when you enter her room. While many people found their rooms growing to mind-boggling sizes and shapes over the last couple of days, Faye's room got smaller.
Cramped and dim, her room seems to be mostly that of what you'd expect a little girl to have. Toys and a dresser, cabinets and closets all bunched together against the walls. Some areas are somehow a little different, almost futuristic but still worn down and very lived-in. There's even what seems to be some sort of medical tank shoved up between two bookcases. Everything just all jammed together as if it actually belongs that way.
And, oh, the clutter. Things piled on, and around, and under every available surface. Stuffed animals and music boxes and jewelry and dice, plants crowding the window, a pinwheel stuck in a cup of pens. Magazines and bowls full of shells and feathers and cigarette butts, empty bottles spilling out from under the bed. Everything a little hard to see in the poor light. And then there are the drawers and dozens upon dozens of boxes, chests and cabinets, but most seem to be locked up tight and covered in dust.
Incongruent and messy, but it almost could have been considered cozy, if it had not been for the things so obviously wrong. After entering, turning around won't show you the back wall of the room and door you should be able to exit again. There is only the unimaginable and terrifying black of space-- as if the room is a three-walled movie set careening through the galaxy. Occasionally a can will roll, or bit of paper will flutter, spilling right off the edge and into nothing. ...Unfortunately, you will have to do so as well if you want to leave this room again. Going to the windows, looking beyond the curtains will show nothing-- just a blinding light that imitates morning and should be illuminating the room but isn't, with spare glimpses of maybe a beach, or a yard. The mirror on the dresser is the worst, however. It skews whatever it reflects to the point of being barely recognizable. Figures look gray or monstrous or fading, all objects cheap and broken.
The only real light comes from a TV, sometimes blaring the obnoxious sounds of what seems to be a show for bounty hunters, sometimes looping a certain video.
And living in it all, is a girl. Reading books on her bed or fiddling with the VCR, she looks up and greets any intruders with a tense smile.]
Um... hi.