[EVENT] RELOCATION, RELOCATION, RELOCATION

[sanctuary_npcs]

Who: EVERYBODY.
What: moving your ass from one end of the Sanctuary to the other since 1945. Look here for more details.
Where: South Wing.
When: Morning, 25 September 1946.
Notes: An open thread in which you and your shit is transferred into the epic South Wing. Just look at those sweet-ass tapestries, yeah. Jump on in the mingle post, reply to

Comments

Mingle

[sanctuary_npcs]

Re: Mingle

[das_vaterland]

He moved the gramophone by itself before any of his other belongings, a near-reverence in his steps as he carried it by himself, extra care for the delicate device. It wouldn't do to ruin the stylus or deform the cylinder. Germany planned to set it on the desk he wanted to claim, one that had a view to outside, where the daylight would fall across as he rested his head on the desktop and listened, something he'd done each day since receiving the gift.

Pausing, he stood in the middle of the hallway looking for his new room number, foot tapping a little impatiently.

Mingle

[el_desheredado]

Because Spain didn't have much of a ways to move, he figured it was his duty to help the others to move their things, particularly to help those moving particularly far--like the North Wing folk--and his own bunker. He spotted Germany easily enough, waving while he munched on an apple, and stepped toward him.

"...what're you doing with such a big thing, did you come all the way down here from home with that, or did someone send it to you? You're not going to be playing silly things on that at funny hours are you?"

Re: Mingle

[das_vaterland]

Germany turned to Spain, the indignation already showing on his face.

"It was sent to me, and since it's useful I decided to keep it." He replied stonily; there was nothing sentimental about it past the Bach and jazz records it so nicely played.

"I can be trusted to play it reasonably." He raised his brows at Spain, watching as he bit into the apple.

"So where have they made you stay?" He asked, trying to be polite; he knew Spain was one of his bruder's good friends, and the other nation had largely stayed out of his way during the war, and even while they were in this place together.

Room # 1 ; America & Cuba

[sanctuary_npcs]

Room # 2 ; England & Japan

[sanctuary_npcs]

[prud_englaland]

If anyone would have cared to hear his opinion on the whole matter he'd be quite happy to tell them that this was all damnable nonsense. He's go on to describe how he would run things were he in charge of this institution, how the twats running it now could do with a lesson or two in organizational process, and allowing this many problems to arise in a place that was meant to support so many people for an indefinite period of time required the sort of discipline one learned from spending too much time on a ship. The failure of not only one wing but three begged a question concerning professional aptitude and England himself was convinced that the manager of this place had to be more monkey than man

[zipangu]

Japan paused at the door of room number two before knocking on it hesitantly. In his condition, it wasn't realistic for him to be doing any heavy lifting, so he had packed just a few clothes and important amenities (bandages, ointment, etc.) and placed them in a small bag which he carried in his hands - the rest he put in the care of the Sanctuary's staff, hoping they would be able to deal with moving the few possessions he had to his new room.

It was with apprehension that he waited for an answer from within the room. Perhaps England was not there yet? He felt awkward like this, It had been some time since they had faced each other on the battlefield, but wasn't sure if he was quite ready to see his former enemy... and former friend.

Then again, he would do his best. It was not in their interests to start a conflict, and despite the awkwardness, perhaps some semblance of their days together during the alliance could be recalled. It would never be the same, yet he kept some sort of hope up in his heart...

[prud_englaland]

England's hand stilled, just as he was setting the letters he'd received thus far into the very back of the second drawer of his desk. He looked over to the door, knowing already who would be on the other side.

Quieter moments admiring Japan's lovely island home intermingled with the acrid scent of shell casings, muggy heat making the mud and the sweat and the struggle that much more miserable.

England stood, crossing the room, different from the last with it's warmer colors, it's more exotic ambiance, and made sure his hand did not hesitate on the door knob, opening the door to reveal his new roommate.

"Japan," he greeted, inclining his head as he stepped back and aside, making room for the other to enter. "Please, come in."

"Can I--" His speech halted for a moment, a hitch that he smoothed over quickly. "Can I help you with anything? It must be difficult..." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish, and pursed his lips, erasing the half-finished comment and acting as if it had not been uttered.

Room # 3 ; France & Russia

[sanctuary_npcs]

[andouillette]

There was only a slight sense of smugness playing around France's features throughout the moving procedure. Double-edged though the result of the July flourbombs had been, nothing could fully dampen the sense that this was his doing. His and America's. The Sanctuary was shaken up and the new conditions were not-- the best, but something had happened. Like the trigger to what he hoped would be an avalanche of events to keep him entertained, if not mildly inconveniencing. Ahh well, a fair price he could pay

Room # 4 ; Belarus & Seychelles

[sanctuary_npcs]

Room # 4 ; Belarus & Seychelles & Hungary

[sanctuary_npcs]