014//Action
[Having the room a person slept in quite literally turn into the embodiment of one's own personal hell made that person very hesitant to return to it. As such, Kenshin had not actually set foot inside his room since its transformation at the beginning of the month. For that week, he had spent his time in the lobby, as much of the rest of the castle had done, but even after everything had returned to normal he had not returned. His hours--waking or otherwise--were full enough of haunted visions. Even if the room was likely back to looking as it had from the start, all he could envision every time he thought of the room were those endless hills of bones and the ghosts that had lurked there.]
[Besides, it was just a room. A room he held little to no attachment. And he was a wanderer. He had gone ten years without having a regular place to sleep, and even before that was rather debatable. At the very least, he remained inside the castle, unlike the time after his initial arrival when he would sleep out in the trees.]
[The last few days he had taken to the laundry room. Few people seemed to pass through at night and if they did he likely didn't seem particularly suspicious--likely waiting for a load of laundry to wash or dry (despite his appearance suggesting he would not know how to use the machines).]
[Besides, the hum of the dryers were surprisingly soothing...]
[So, Paradisa. There is a random samurai sitting against the wall with a sword propped against his shoulder--apparently completely sacked out. Have you noticed him here before? Does it seem odd that he's been there so often? Is he blocking you from reaching your preferred detergent? Do you just want to poke him with a stick? Whatever the case, there he his. Have at it.]
[Besides, it was just a room. A room he held little to no attachment. And he was a wanderer. He had gone ten years without having a regular place to sleep, and even before that was rather debatable. At the very least, he remained inside the castle, unlike the time after his initial arrival when he would sleep out in the trees.]
[The last few days he had taken to the laundry room. Few people seemed to pass through at night and if they did he likely didn't seem particularly suspicious--likely waiting for a load of laundry to wash or dry (despite his appearance suggesting he would not know how to use the machines).]
[Besides, the hum of the dryers were surprisingly soothing...]
[So, Paradisa. There is a random samurai sitting against the wall with a sword propped against his shoulder--apparently completely sacked out. Have you noticed him here before? Does it seem odd that he's been there so often? Is he blocking you from reaching your preferred detergent? Do you just want to poke him with a stick? Whatever the case, there he his. Have at it.]