|Robert Drayton. (stringthetrail) wrote in bellumlogs,|
@ 2010-02-15 12:19:00
|Entry tags:||gingerbread man|
Who: Robert Drayton.
What: Gus wasn't kidding when he granted wishes.
Where: His apartment.
When: Early to mid-morning.
Warnings: Swearing, but that's probably it.
Notes: Closed narrative.
His grandfather's funeral had been nice, albeit small. Everyone who attended were kind enough to stay at an arm's distance from himself, the only exception being his mother who somehow found out and tried to weasel her way in (probably hoping for a cut of the will). But his grandfather left everything to Robert, having given up on his own child years ago. His mother had to be pried away from him after trying to convince him she wasn't a bad mother and really needed the money. With the help of distraction by one of the neighbors, he snuck away and returned home.
The last thing his grandfather told him was to get out of the city. "Don't stay stuck here the rest of your life, kid. You got so much going for you to end up nowhere." He planned on taking that advice, but it could wait for tomorrow. Right now, he was tired and needed sleep. Still in his suit, he loosened his tie, kicked off the loafers and crawled in for a nap.
Then it was morning.
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and became startled at what he saw. The room was different. All his stuff was there, sure, but the room itself wasn't the same. Hell, he wasn't even wearing the same clothes he wore last night. Trying to hop out of bed, he tripped from the height difference from his old bedframe and smacked his knees against the floor. "Shit," he swore, pulling himself up and finally venturing to look outside through the blinds.
Where the hell am I?
Taking a quick look around, he concluded that while alone, it appeared he was living in this place. He ventured a look beyond the front door, perturbed he was apparently in an apartment building. Hurrying back inside to the only place he deemed safe for now, Robert saw he had a computer and decided to see if that had any answers. The homepage was set to a forum, one that he apparently frequented/lurked, though he couldn't be sure of that. Maybe he would get answers there.
He also needed to find 807. Why, he didn't know. But he had to.