The Bar seems to ponder long, before giving her a key marked with a 99. She thanks it and mounts the stairs.
The room is spartan; sufficient to her needs. There is a single painting on the wall, painstakingly straight. It seems to be a mounted jigsaw puzzle of a tower at sunset. There is the faintest smell; some kind of organic ash, mixed with the oil of a mechanism. It's not unpleasant.
Her robe has somehow transitioned to the closet, and there's a skeleton on a stand in the corner; she recognizes the ribs. It grins at her familiarly. In the closet there are rows of long-sleeved shirts much like her usual habit, and some other shirts she frowns at. In a drawer there are trousers and spare niqabs and gloves and socks. Her journal is here on the desk.
This is all burying the lede: perpendicular to the white, crisp bed is a second one. She glares at it. There is also a set of free weights in one corner, which get their share.
On the table by the bed is a device she only vaguely recognizes the function of, but it seems to be active. She presses the universal glyph for play.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2020-09-03 12:12 am (UTC)The room is spartan; sufficient to her needs. There is a single painting on the wall, painstakingly straight. It seems to be a mounted jigsaw puzzle of a tower at sunset. There is the faintest smell; some kind of organic ash, mixed with the oil of a mechanism. It's not unpleasant.
Her robe has somehow transitioned to the closet, and there's a skeleton on a stand in the corner; she recognizes the ribs. It grins at her familiarly. In the closet there are rows of long-sleeved shirts much like her usual habit, and some other shirts she frowns at. In a drawer there are trousers and spare niqabs and gloves and socks. Her journal is here on the desk.
This is all burying the lede: perpendicular to the white, crisp bed is a second one. She glares at it. There is also a set of free weights in one corner, which get their share.
On the table by the bed is a device she only vaguely recognizes the function of, but it seems to be active. She presses the universal glyph for play.