Who: Ivy (and open to multiples!) Where: The Fourth Floor When: Morning
It had taken Ivy sometime to get her own IV out of her arm, as sluggish and disoriented as she had been feeling since waking up in this strange place. She had struggled to remember what happened, but the only thing she could remember was coming home after a work party. Had she even made it into her apartment? She couldn't recall. Everything after unlocking the door was blank. Until this. The room was cozy and easy on the eyes, but it was unfamiliar. The IV was disconcerting as much as the ID bracelet on her wrist that listed her as a Subject. She wondered if maybe she passed out, or suffered some strange affliction and was taken to the hospital. Except this was not a hospital, not even close.
Fear kicked in as soon as she spotted the camera. Someone was watching and all she could think of was snuff film. Or that book... The Most Dangerous Game. Except instead of coming upon a creepy island, some rich prick kidnapped her and was waiting for her to wake up and run for her life so he could hunt her. Or she. Gender equality and all that.
Ivy had never been a fan of needles, or blood, and her fingers trembled as she pulled the adhesive tape from her skin to slide the needle from her arm. Blood began to ooze down her skin, but she ignored it as she dropped the IV to the rug. Aware of how weak her muscles felt at the moment, Ivy took a few moments to try and ready herself for standing. How did those people in the movies do it? Where they woke up in a panic, yanked out the IV and ran for their lives down a hallway, their hospital gowns flapping behind them. Because Ivy was struggling just to get a few feet to the box that requested she open it.
Eventually she made it, using the wall around the room as a means to keep her upright. Inside the box was her clothes and boots and having been able to look out the window at all the snow, she knew she needed to get dressed before she tried to get the hell out of this place. As she changed she fought back nausea, her stomach rolling with every movement. At one point she was sure she was going to vomit, and it amused her that her instinct was to throw up in the cardboard box rather than get puke all over the gorgeous hardwood floor. Once she was sure she could move without getting sick, Ivy slipped her boots on and headed for the door. She was still feeling woozy and unsteady, but there was more strength in her leg muscles now. Maybe it was the adrenaline working through her system. Maybe adrenaline was how the captives in movies were able to run so damn fast after being drugged.
She reached the white bedroom door and very cautiously opened it, peeking out into the hall. It was a spacious space, and she could see multiple bedroom doors, along with a flight of stairs that led downstairs. Breathing heavily and shivering now, Ivy slipped out of the room and started for the stairs across the hall from her. She was expecting someone, or something, to jump out at her at any moment now, and Ivy regretted not searching the bedroom for a potential weapon to defend herself with.