Vivian "Ice" Whitcove (as_cold_as_ice) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2017-11-16 20:58:00 |
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There were clues enough even as she opened her eyes that this wasn't her room. Well, not that her room was her room, but the room she'd been assigned upon abduction. She glanced first to the window, then looked away because it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. More than that, if it was real, and there was no way out, she'd be in a place beyond rage. She didn't doubt there wouldn't be a way out, but that didn't stop her from heading out the door of her room in a very uncharacteristic state of dress. She didn't bother to look for a bag or a suitcase that might or might not contain a robe; instead, she headed out the door dressed in a thigh-length plain blue shirt and bare feet, ballet-mangled toes on display for any she came across. Not that she paid any mind to any she might have crossed paths with. Instead, she went on a fruitless quest for a door. Stairs. An elevator. Something. But there was nothing. Rows of doors identical to the one she'd exited through. Open doorways into common areas. No stairs, no elevator, nothing. She'd expected exactly that, but it was enraging all the same. Her fingers curled into fists, tapered nails digging into the flesh of her palms, though not breaking the skin. She wanted to scream, to pound the walls, to unleash the rage that had been building as long as she'd been here, but she wouldn't where someone could see. God forbid she have emotions. Still, she was wildly disheveled. Strands of hair were escaping her sleep braid. She was barely dressed, and barefoot on top of it. Clenching her jaw against the scream that wanted to escape, she turned to head back toward the room she'd emerged from. Maybe once she was back there, with the door closed, she'd scream into a pillow or something - provided no one managed to intercept her before that happened. |