He's A Real Nowhere Man [Open, Active]
Characters: Johan Liebert, anyone else who wishes to greet him.
Setting: Entranceway to Grand Room
Time: Day 011, Early Evening
Summary: An attractive young man enters the house.
Warnings: None yet.
Johan picked himself up off the cold tile calmly, quietly dusting himself off and straightening his sleeve as he looked around. A great house... he'd just gotten up from a beautifully polished marble floor, and he could see a long, arching, ceilings and high walls, the latter accented with delicate plastering. Peculiar... he did not specifically recall being anywhere like this a few moments ago. In fact, he distinctly recalled walking almong the pavement in Munich. He took a few steps towards the table, running his hand over it: cherrywood. Cherrywood and forget-me-nots. The white vase was simple, but elegant combined with its environment. Interesting. Unfortunately, he didn't belong here; he had better things to do.
Turning, he reached for the door, taking its knob... and finding it locked.
... locked, that is, with no way to conceivably unlock it. A solid oak door with no visible latch.
How.... interesting.
It seemed that he would have to look elsewhere for the exit. The door next to him proved to be a coat closet, largely empty, save for a handful of thick fur coats and a single umbrella. A very large closet... who would need a closet so large? Closing the door, he turned and began to walk, his footsteps echoing off the spotless walls as he passed through the simplistic, subdued entryway into the larger and conspicuously emptier adjacent room...
...one far too grand to be called a living room.
Setting: Entranceway to Grand Room
Time: Day 011, Early Evening
Summary: An attractive young man enters the house.
Warnings: None yet.
Johan picked himself up off the cold tile calmly, quietly dusting himself off and straightening his sleeve as he looked around. A great house... he'd just gotten up from a beautifully polished marble floor, and he could see a long, arching, ceilings and high walls, the latter accented with delicate plastering. Peculiar... he did not specifically recall being anywhere like this a few moments ago. In fact, he distinctly recalled walking almong the pavement in Munich. He took a few steps towards the table, running his hand over it: cherrywood. Cherrywood and forget-me-nots. The white vase was simple, but elegant combined with its environment. Interesting. Unfortunately, he didn't belong here; he had better things to do.
Turning, he reached for the door, taking its knob... and finding it locked.
... locked, that is, with no way to conceivably unlock it. A solid oak door with no visible latch.
How.... interesting.
It seemed that he would have to look elsewhere for the exit. The door next to him proved to be a coat closet, largely empty, save for a handful of thick fur coats and a single umbrella. A very large closet... who would need a closet so large? Closing the door, he turned and began to walk, his footsteps echoing off the spotless walls as he passed through the simplistic, subdued entryway into the larger and conspicuously emptier adjacent room...
...one far too grand to be called a living room.