Who: Michael Guerin & Max Evans What: Brotherly love comes in the form of talking and yelling When: Room 1, Day 2, Early morning Where: The Study Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language probably Status: Closed, In progress
A harsh frown remained creased on Max's forehead as he picked through what he could only deem as junk. He'd seen yard sales back home that had more organizational purpose than this room, and each item he examined appeared to be as useless as the last. Annoyed, he sat one dust covered trinket back on the shelf a little harder. The momentum of his movement caused a slightly louder thud to ring out in the empty room. What followed was an exasperated sigh as he pulled himself from a wall of shelving. He rounded the large desk and sat down in the mismatched chair behind it to think. Or to give himself a break in the disappointment of coming up shorthanded.
Max had found himself in the study after a very restless nights sleep. Too much tossing and turning for only an hour or two of sleep wasn't worth it, and he decided to make better use of his time. He had remembered this room while wandering around the hallways. The curious paintings had initially drawn him into it, but the sheer volume of crap cluttering the walls and tables peaked his interest. Max wasn't so naive to believe there were weapons around to find. Whatever this was was too calculated for that, however he hoped to find something. Anything. Something that he could use to turn the tables, or at the very least give him an idea of what he was working with here. Who he was working with. A room full of stuff seemed like a good place to hide something valuable in plain sight, or so he thought.
It was in that moment of quiet that he looked at the desk. It seemed solid and vintage. His eyes peered curiously at the gold plated keyholes on the drawers. Max reached for a handle and tried to pull it. He tried to pull them all.
"Great, they're paranoid pack rats," he grumbled to himself as stood up from his seat. This was about as useful as tossing and turning back in bed. Max walked his way back to the doorway with the mental decision of calling it a night. Within the steps towards the door he must have spaced out, because all of a sudden he became aware of the movements of another.
"Sorry," he said immediately as his shoulder ran into the door frame to try and avoid collision with this person.