inthesteel (![]() ![]() @ 2012-10-13 22:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | ickle anakin skywalker, piotr rasputin |
Who: Piotr Rasputin and ickle Anakin Skywalker
What: A disoriented arrival
When: October 13th - Evening
Where: Begins in Piotr's new room, then the castle hallways
Rating/Warnings: TBD, but mentions of guns.
Status: Closed/Completed
The loud rapport of automatic gun fire rang in Piotr's ears, even though the sound had already ceased. Was he dead? In his experience with guns, the people who shot them tended to fire them for longer than the split-second he had heard. He slowly opened his eyes, the view that filled them staggering him for a moment. He tried to recoil from the sudden change in scenery, but found himself frozen in place, unable to move. Panic filled his heart, until he remembered that, though he was somewhere else, he was still 'armored up' and that was what was preventing him from moving.
The hard silver of his skin melted away to warm flesh, and Piotr tilted his head to the side, the result being a satisfied popping of the vertebrae in his neck. He glanced down at himself, eyes searching for any signs of injury to himself or damage to his clothing. His shirt and pants appeared whole and he couldn't see any wounds on his body. That was strange in and of itself, wasn't it? He supposed it was no more strange than suddenly being in such a sumptuously decorated room. He wondered again if he was dead as his fingers brushed against the rich fabrics of the window dressings. Being the son of a poor Russian farmer, there were few times in Piotr's life where he had seen such opulence. He imagined that heaven would also have such opulence and the same comforting energy that he felt in this place.
Piotr wasn't a believer in the afterlife, but he supposed that there was a possibility that the afterlife didn't care if he believed in it or not. Dead or not, heaven or not, Piotr had to admit to himself that wherever he was, he was in a much better place than on the receiving end of a hail of bullets from an arms deal gone bad.
As he scanned the room, Piotr's eyes fell on the small note next to the phone and currency. He read the note, brow pinching in dissatisfaction. It was certainly not what he was expecting from heaven, to say the least. He pocketed the note, cash, and phone and walked to the door. His large fingers traced the lines of the wood as he contemplated what could be on the other side. What if this was merely a waiting room, and he was dead? Well, he thought, in that case there is no harm in going through. Curiosity outweighing the little trepidation he felt, Piotr walked over to the door and pulled it open. The hall outside his room was equally as inviting and well-furnished as the room itself.
He closed the door quietly behind him and started down the hallway, making a special note of the number on his room so that he could find his way back. Dead or not, maybe he'd find something or someone with answers. As he walked down the hallway, his eyes tracked all the stunning details of a space far beyond anything he could imagine.