(no subject)
Hello, Cleveland.
I think i've bitten off more than I can chew with this one, folks. Sighing deeply, a suitcase in each hand, I looked up at the decroded old apartment complex that towered above me, red bricks practically mocking me as they bore down upon me.
I broke off from the group and headed inside, cringing at the cracked plaster walls and debris all over the floors, the wooden steps creaking with every step as I ascended them. Someone remind me again why I'm staying here and not at the closest Hilton?
This place seriously cramped my style. Here I was in my best deep blue suit and expensive shoes, already covered in plaster dust that rained down on me with every step I took through this place, and I was not enjoying myself one bit.
Willow had assigned us rooms, and apparently I was to be sharing my space with Wesley. Now, Wesley was a great friend to me, and I enjoyed his company, but in terms of sharing my living space with him? There was definately going to be a major clash of the Titans when it came to the decor. I knew for a fact if we ever got this place cleaned up and I wanted to decorate, there would be arguments galore because I knew Wesley would never ever agree to living in a LorneCentrically decorated space. It wasn't his style, nor was his style MINE. I suppose we could always compromise, but we were two very very opposite people. I don't think there even COULD be compromise.
When I got to the room where I was supposed to live, I sighed as I reached for the doorknob. I clasped it in my hand and it immediately came free from the door. "Great," I muttered to myself as the door swung open by itself. I pushed it all the way open and stepped inside, tossing the doorknob on the floor. I looked around. I'd seen better kept homeless shelters.
The space was fairly large, granted. Had a kitchen, a small fireplace, and a hallway leading to a bathroom and two bedrooms. The floors were made of wood, although worn down; and you had your typical dropsheets covering whatever meager decrepid furniture was left in the livingroom. I sighed and walked down the hallway, and chose a bedroom. At least there was a bed in here. I groaned to myself and tossed my luggage on a chair, which immediately collapsed under the weight. I swore to myself and tossed my jacket on the bed.
I went back out into the main living room and put my hands on my hips. "Guess I've got my work cut out for me," I muttered. "Better throw on some overalls and get to work. I hope Wesley's up for some Home Improvement."
((Open to my new roomie, Wesley))
I think i've bitten off more than I can chew with this one, folks. Sighing deeply, a suitcase in each hand, I looked up at the decroded old apartment complex that towered above me, red bricks practically mocking me as they bore down upon me.
I broke off from the group and headed inside, cringing at the cracked plaster walls and debris all over the floors, the wooden steps creaking with every step as I ascended them. Someone remind me again why I'm staying here and not at the closest Hilton?
This place seriously cramped my style. Here I was in my best deep blue suit and expensive shoes, already covered in plaster dust that rained down on me with every step I took through this place, and I was not enjoying myself one bit.
Willow had assigned us rooms, and apparently I was to be sharing my space with Wesley. Now, Wesley was a great friend to me, and I enjoyed his company, but in terms of sharing my living space with him? There was definately going to be a major clash of the Titans when it came to the decor. I knew for a fact if we ever got this place cleaned up and I wanted to decorate, there would be arguments galore because I knew Wesley would never ever agree to living in a LorneCentrically decorated space. It wasn't his style, nor was his style MINE. I suppose we could always compromise, but we were two very very opposite people. I don't think there even COULD be compromise.
When I got to the room where I was supposed to live, I sighed as I reached for the doorknob. I clasped it in my hand and it immediately came free from the door. "Great," I muttered to myself as the door swung open by itself. I pushed it all the way open and stepped inside, tossing the doorknob on the floor. I looked around. I'd seen better kept homeless shelters.
The space was fairly large, granted. Had a kitchen, a small fireplace, and a hallway leading to a bathroom and two bedrooms. The floors were made of wood, although worn down; and you had your typical dropsheets covering whatever meager decrepid furniture was left in the livingroom. I sighed and walked down the hallway, and chose a bedroom. At least there was a bed in here. I groaned to myself and tossed my luggage on a chair, which immediately collapsed under the weight. I swore to myself and tossed my jacket on the bed.
I went back out into the main living room and put my hands on my hips. "Guess I've got my work cut out for me," I muttered. "Better throw on some overalls and get to work. I hope Wesley's up for some Home Improvement."
((Open to my new roomie, Wesley))