(no subject)
Characters: herr_edgeworth , sportstape , madeyouachoker
When: After Event 0.5
Where: Building C, Room CC4
Style: Third
Open or Closed: Closed
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Miles emerged from his temporary exile in the hellish underground maze to a lightly wooded grove. Through the trees, however, Miles spotted something that seemed out of place considering the archaic nature of his experience - the bricked back of a modern building. Miles paused in his steps to consider his options, attempting to wipe the dust of the tunnels from his suit.
While it did seem odd that a modern society would house such a horrid area beneath its earth, a building implied residents, and residents could give him answers as to where exactly he now resided. He realized as he began to walk toward it that, even though it defied all logic, he was most likely not going to be told he was merely a train away from Los Angeles.
As the trees began to clear and Miles found a path on which to walk (was this a park of some sort?) he realized he was not simply faced with one building, but several, grouped together. By Miles’ best guess, he assumed it was either a hotel or apartment complex - either of which would be a prime location for information. As he neared them, however, he noticed they were unmarked except for small signs displaying letters above the entrances. Very strange. The buildings must have been privately owned.
Miles made his way to the building he spotted from the grove, which happened to be Building C. Amidst the sound of nature, Miles heard the sound of voices. Although he could not determine exactly where they came from, it nevertheless assured him that he was not entirely alone here.
He entered the lobby of Building C, only to find it entirely empty. He slowly made his way to a small, unattended information desk near the entrance, and looked down to the solitary item resting there - a clipboard. On it was a list of rooms and residents, and much to Miles’ surprise, he found his own name listed, along with another individual’s who he was not familiar with.
“Peculiar,” Miles muttered to himself, although a more accurate word would have been ‘unnerving.’
After making sure there was no one who could explain things further to him, Miles decided it would be best to see exactly to what he had been assigned. After glancing at the list one more time to memorize his room and the individual listed with him, Miles walked decidedly past the elevator and located the staircase, beginning up them.
Three floors hardly being something Miles was unaccustomed to, he reached his correct floor with ease. The layout of the halls was fairly linear, and Miles soon found himself in front of his assigned room. He reached out for the handle before pausing, noticing then that the door was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices beyond. He quickly determined they were young males, although the topic of their conversation was something Miles was unable to determine.
Perhaps they knew something Miles did not.
Not wanting to startle them, he knocked thrice on the door before pushing it open, looking in to what he could see of the room.
“Mr. Miyamoto?” Miles called, poised in the doorway, his hand still on the doorhandle, hoping he had remembered the boy’s name correctly from the list.
When: After Event 0.5
Where: Building C, Room CC4
Style: Third
Open or Closed: Closed
Rating/Warnings: N/A
Miles emerged from his temporary exile in the hellish underground maze to a lightly wooded grove. Through the trees, however, Miles spotted something that seemed out of place considering the archaic nature of his experience - the bricked back of a modern building. Miles paused in his steps to consider his options, attempting to wipe the dust of the tunnels from his suit.
While it did seem odd that a modern society would house such a horrid area beneath its earth, a building implied residents, and residents could give him answers as to where exactly he now resided. He realized as he began to walk toward it that, even though it defied all logic, he was most likely not going to be told he was merely a train away from Los Angeles.
As the trees began to clear and Miles found a path on which to walk (was this a park of some sort?) he realized he was not simply faced with one building, but several, grouped together. By Miles’ best guess, he assumed it was either a hotel or apartment complex - either of which would be a prime location for information. As he neared them, however, he noticed they were unmarked except for small signs displaying letters above the entrances. Very strange. The buildings must have been privately owned.
Miles made his way to the building he spotted from the grove, which happened to be Building C. Amidst the sound of nature, Miles heard the sound of voices. Although he could not determine exactly where they came from, it nevertheless assured him that he was not entirely alone here.
He entered the lobby of Building C, only to find it entirely empty. He slowly made his way to a small, unattended information desk near the entrance, and looked down to the solitary item resting there - a clipboard. On it was a list of rooms and residents, and much to Miles’ surprise, he found his own name listed, along with another individual’s who he was not familiar with.
“Peculiar,” Miles muttered to himself, although a more accurate word would have been ‘unnerving.’
After making sure there was no one who could explain things further to him, Miles decided it would be best to see exactly to what he had been assigned. After glancing at the list one more time to memorize his room and the individual listed with him, Miles walked decidedly past the elevator and located the staircase, beginning up them.
Three floors hardly being something Miles was unaccustomed to, he reached his correct floor with ease. The layout of the halls was fairly linear, and Miles soon found himself in front of his assigned room. He reached out for the handle before pausing, noticing then that the door was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices beyond. He quickly determined they were young males, although the topic of their conversation was something Miles was unable to determine.
Perhaps they knew something Miles did not.
Not wanting to startle them, he knocked thrice on the door before pushing it open, looking in to what he could see of the room.
“Mr. Miyamoto?” Miles called, poised in the doorway, his hand still on the doorhandle, hoping he had remembered the boy’s name correctly from the list.