Adrian Reznik (adrian_reznik) wrote in astor_ridge, @ 2011-01-13 23:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | adrian, solo |
Who Adrian Reznik and Dexter (his cat)
What Apartment walkthrough
Where Apartment 1111
When Thursday afternoon, January 13
Status Narrative / G
Notes This is pretty irrelevant to game happenings. :P Just something I wrote while typing up the app to help myself figure the character out, but if you want a look into the guy's apartment, this is the best chance you'll ever get. XD
Apartment 1111 in the Astor Ridge building looked pretty generic. It was painted mostly white, with the exception of the blue master bedroom and the one red wall in the living room. There was a red, u-shaped couch in front of a flat-screen TV, a king size bed, stone countertops and all the rugs were some shade of blue. One bathroom was designated for guests and the other was kept locked at all times, to keep anyone but the tenant himself out. Artwork and similar things that can usually be found on walls was very scarce in 1111, the only framed picture hanging at the end of the hall leading to the second bedroom – a photo manipulation depicting a headless body slumped in front of a washing machine, where its head tumbled around. There was no blood and gore - it looked more as though the head had simply been popped off and thrown in the machine for a good wash.
The apartment was usually kept fairly neat, although no one could claim that the man who lived there was zealous about cleaning. It was more as if he never used any of the things he owned, therefore not creating any reasons to clean. Along the wall next to the couch in the living room were two white shelves, made of wood and occupied by forty-odd plastic dinosaurs. The toys were neatly arranged, every creature displayed equally much and there seemed to have gone meticulous planning into setting them up in this particular way. In case of company that outnumbered the kitchen chairs, a bigger table made of sturdy oak was situated in the living room, with room for up to eight people if they didn’t mind sitting a little close. The other half of the room was taken up by the couch, table and TV, complete with a DVD player with surround sound and a gaming console of the Playstation 3 variety. The coffee table was white and usually only occupied by the remotes to the electric devices and the occasional coffee cup or food plate.
In the kitchen, everything had its place, be it on the countertops made of dark stone or in the cupboards with their black doors. An oval table, painted red, served as dining table surrounded by three chairs. The door at the end of the kitchen lead to the laundry room, where a mess was regarded as clean, unfolded clothes strewn about on the small table in there. The dirty laundry went into the black, plastic laundry basket and usually stayed there until it was time to get in the washing machine. Washing detergent and various cleaning equipment was stored in the laundry room as well, the bigger tools in one corner with the bottles, spray cans and containers lined up on top of the dryer.
The master bedroom contained the huge bed and little more. There wasn’t a TV, but a desk stood in the inner corner, usually laden with nothing more than a notepad, a jar of ballpoint pens and a framed photo of a round, red tomcat. A Dymo label at the bottom of the frame read ‘Dexter’. When not in use, the desk chair was pushed as close to the desk as possible. The bed was normally stuffed with five or six pillows and a plush T-Rex sitting among them – the bedcover was always plain-coloured, never patterned or multi-coloured.
Opposite the master bedroom was the ever-locked bathroom. The guest bathroom, accessible from the hallway, contained the necessities, a shower cabin and several towels for whoever should need one. The main bathroom had a bathtub in connection to the shower, but otherwise looked pretty much the same. The tenant kept it locked simply because he didn’t want to have to share a bathroom with anyone, which was probably more of a habit than there was any logical reasoning behind it. The only addition made to the main bathroom was the full-length mirror above the bathtub, opposite the showerhead.
Turning right at the end of the hall where the picture of the headless body hung, you’d find the room that was originally a second bedroom, now used mainly as a study. At least that was the official name for it. For all the rest of the house was neat and tidy, this study was comparable to a train wreck. There was a desk in there, but most of the things that should go on it were on the floor - except for the black MacBook laptop. Books, papers, random articles of clothing were scattered across the room - the armchair in the far corner was torn all over and covered in cat hair. This was where you usually found the feline resident of the apartment and anyone sitting in the armchair uninvited could count on a mauling.
The last room was technically not a room as such, but a balcony with windows all around, accessible both from the living room and the master bedroom. Once you went out there, the lack of plant life in the apartment became obvious as there were several kinds of plants on the balcony, turning the space into something of an oasis. A weathered wooden table with four chairs stood to one side and in the far corner, in front of the doors leading into the master bedroom, there stood a foldable bed tucked away against the wall. In the corner just left of the main doors stood a basic, three-level cat tree – a somewhat odd placement for such a piece of furniture, until you acknowledged the fact that a cat flap had been installed in one of the balcony doors.
Adrian Reznik stood on this balcony, bare arms crossed over his chest. Being winter, a t-shirt wasn’t the ideal thing to wear out here, but the cold didn’t bother Adrian. He looked down at the city below, twelve stories down, as he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. The sun shone of the snow, no doubt melting it and Adrian felt a tiny sting of melancholy at this thought. He liked snow a lot, liked the way it blanketed the world and dampened all the sounds. Spring always made him a little blue when it came around. However it was still January, so he could only hope it would snow some more.
The red, slightly overweight tabby tomcat he liked to call his own, and who actually heeded to the name Dexter, came up to wrap himself around Adrian’s legs. The man reached down to stroke the cat’s head, the feline pressing up against the big hand. As Dexter began trampling against his leg, Adrian lifted the cat up and was rewarded with a red, furry head nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“We’re doing pretty good, aren’t we, Dexter?” Adrian asked, stroking the red furball. “Nice apartment, sufficient funds, no problems, right?” He took the cat’s purring as an affirmative. Still, with this seemingly positive outlook, Adrian didn’t feel entirely at ease. Something was missing and until he found out what it was, he’d keep feeling that nagging sensation of being unfulfilled.