Johnny (metamorphose) wrote in lost_world, @ 2013-03-01 20:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !status: complete, bo dennis, johnny outlaw |
What the actual fuck (Bo)
Johnny didn't have to be fully awake for him to know that there was something really wrong happening. Every sense he had was on full alert before he ever got to clear the fog of sleep from his head completely. He didn't move, though, just in case there was anything immediately life threatening in the room with him and it wasn't yet aware that he was conscious.
He listened carefully and heard nothing. The sounds of a busy city were not happening outside the window. The bed was much more comfortable than the one he'd gone to sleep in, and he got the general feeling of a lot more space around him, as well. Daylight streamed through the window, he could feel it warming the room. The scent of old socks, half-assed cleaning, and mold was missing.
Sitting up carefully, Johnny glanced around. He was in a room. A bedroom. An actual bedroom. Not a motel room. It was very clean, very nice. There was a hand stitched quilt over him and the sheets on the bed were white with little yellow duckies. There was a photograph of a flowery field on the wall above the bed, but on the other end the wall was covered in jack-o-lantern cutouts.
Shaking his head, he rubbed at his face. He knew this couldn't have anything to do with alcohol. The amount it would have taken for him to black out would have been unaffordable for any of the people that he knew. Even if they combined all their money. So how had he gotten here? Where was here?
He was wearing his normal shirt, pants, and nothing else. His boots were by the bed, he saw after a brief check. Johnny paused to listen. He felt like maybe he wasn't alone, even though there was nobody immediately here in his view. Had he heard something to cause that feeling? Smelled something?