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9:06 PM
Who: Cody / JJ
Setting: His room / Courtyard
He knew he was somewhere different the moment he woke up. For starters, it smelled infinitely better here. It didn't smell like sweat or piss, but that perfect kind of clean smell you didn't notice until you went from something that didn't smell that way.
He popped up, looking around, wondering how they'd gotten him here without him knowing. He found the welcome note, the phone, flipping it around in his fingers as he looked at the rest of the place. It looked a little like a dorm room, which wasn't something he was familiar with, but he'd seen enough on television to put that together. He opened the standing wardrobe, head canting the side at the sight of the clothes hanging and folded there. Those looked...well, familiar. They weren't his, minus the denim jacket he'd been wearing when he was arrested, but they looked like they could have come out of his closet before all of this.
After more than a year in a dingy gray jumpsuit, the thought of real clothes was beyond appealing, so was the little bathroom and shower there.
An hour later, he was leaving his room, looking down at the courtyard, in a loose tank top and fitted black pants, sunglasses perched in newly bleached hair, nails painted black. Yeah, this was definitely an upgrade.
Setting: His room / Courtyard
He knew he was somewhere different the moment he woke up. For starters, it smelled infinitely better here. It didn't smell like sweat or piss, but that perfect kind of clean smell you didn't notice until you went from something that didn't smell that way.
He popped up, looking around, wondering how they'd gotten him here without him knowing. He found the welcome note, the phone, flipping it around in his fingers as he looked at the rest of the place. It looked a little like a dorm room, which wasn't something he was familiar with, but he'd seen enough on television to put that together. He opened the standing wardrobe, head canting the side at the sight of the clothes hanging and folded there. Those looked...well, familiar. They weren't his, minus the denim jacket he'd been wearing when he was arrested, but they looked like they could have come out of his closet before all of this.
After more than a year in a dingy gray jumpsuit, the thought of real clothes was beyond appealing, so was the little bathroom and shower there.
An hour later, he was leaving his room, looking down at the courtyard, in a loose tank top and fitted black pants, sunglasses perched in newly bleached hair, nails painted black. Yeah, this was definitely an upgrade.