simon monroe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
revivalism) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-09-10 09:11 pm
revivalism) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-09-10 09:11 pm
Entry tags:
closed.
CHARACTERS: Kieren Walker & Simon Monroe
LOCATION: Passenger Quarters, Floor 35
WARNINGS: Dead bodies
SUMMARY: What sort of squares actually listen to ominous graffiti warnings?
NOTES: Backdated
[ When he finally takes the blue lift to the passenger quarters, Simon presses the button for 010 first, but by the time the lift stops he's changed his mind. The door slides open without his moving from the back corner, head held askew to peer down the visible length of the corridor, and then slides shut again.
There's another painted warning outside the lift on 035, and he does at least pause to consider it before setting off down the silent hallway. If they (they, whoever) put something in his locker they may have put something in his cell. Quarters. Whatever they're calling them. But 118 doors is a long walk, and midway he veers off into a kitchen. He doesn't understand where he is, doesn't believe the explanations he's been offered, and doesn't at all know what he's doing. But whatever it is, a knife seems like a good first step.
Some drawer-slamming and utensil-rattling later he's found a carving knife and tucked it into the inside of his suit jacket. He steps back into the corridor still straightening his clothes with his free hand—the other arm's hooked around his bulky assortment of personal belongings, fingers holding the Bible tightly shut—and he only glances back the way he came out of habitual precaution.
It's well enough he did. He isn't alone. For a fraction of a second his wariness spikes, but then recognition settles in, even at a bit of a distance, and his shoulders loosen. ]
LOCATION: Passenger Quarters, Floor 35
WARNINGS: Dead bodies
SUMMARY: What sort of squares actually listen to ominous graffiti warnings?
NOTES: Backdated
[ When he finally takes the blue lift to the passenger quarters, Simon presses the button for 010 first, but by the time the lift stops he's changed his mind. The door slides open without his moving from the back corner, head held askew to peer down the visible length of the corridor, and then slides shut again.
There's another painted warning outside the lift on 035, and he does at least pause to consider it before setting off down the silent hallway. If they (they, whoever) put something in his locker they may have put something in his cell. Quarters. Whatever they're calling them. But 118 doors is a long walk, and midway he veers off into a kitchen. He doesn't understand where he is, doesn't believe the explanations he's been offered, and doesn't at all know what he's doing. But whatever it is, a knife seems like a good first step.
Some drawer-slamming and utensil-rattling later he's found a carving knife and tucked it into the inside of his suit jacket. He steps back into the corridor still straightening his clothes with his free hand—the other arm's hooked around his bulky assortment of personal belongings, fingers holding the Bible tightly shut—and he only glances back the way he came out of habitual precaution.
It's well enough he did. He isn't alone. For a fraction of a second his wariness spikes, but then recognition settles in, even at a bit of a distance, and his shoulders loosen. ]