Marisa Santiago (strangelyquarky) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2016-10-20 19:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 054, marisa, tobias |
Who: Marisa and OPEN
When: 8:45-ish
Where: Her room, outside of her room
What: Being pretty sure she's seen this in a movie before
Marisa was usually quick to rise, but this was different; she had to fight her way towards waking, battling a grogginess and lethargy that she wasn't used to feeling. She briefly wondered how much she'd had to drink at the club; she wasn't really a big drinker but when in Rome, right? She remembered dancing, going to the bar for a refill and... nothing. It was all black after that, which was disturbing on its own level. Marisa wasn't used to her memory failing her when she needed it most.
She sat up slowly, feeling vaguely queasy, and became aware of two important things. One, she was not in her own bed or her own clothing, and two, there was a hospital bracelet around her wrist. Had she really gone so far out of control that she'd needed to be hospitalized? She'd never thought she was much of a partier, even a repressed one. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as the movement caused the IV in her arm to pinch. She studied the bag, trying to figure out what it was, but there were no markings on the IV bag. She could feel her heart rate slowly climbing as her eyes darted frantically around the room - European medicine was often hailed for its quality but this wasn't a hospital room. It looked like someone's bedroom.
She didn't want the IV in, but she didn't want to take it out herself, either. Screwing her eyes shut, she managed to slowly pull it out with a low, squeal-y groan of discomfort. Clamping her free hand over the wound, she got out of bed to explore, nearly tripping over the box as she walked around the bed. It was a relief to see her clothes, even if they'd been borrowed from Sarah on vacation because she hadn't packed anything for clubbing. The sparkly dress and leather jacket were better than a hospital gown any day. She kept the heels off, knowing it would be easier to run without them.
She made for the door, but it was locked. Fear spiked, and she pounded on the door. "Hello?" she called, trying the knob again. "Someone let me out!" She'd seen shit like this in movies - girls kidnapped overseas, knocked out and shipped to some backwoods hideaway in Eastern Europe. As she turned to look for something to pry the lock open with, she spotted the blinking light on the computer. She checked the message, then typed a network update with shaking hands. There was a strange mixture of relief and renewed anxiety as the door opened, and she headed for it immediately lest it lock on her again.
She stepped outside the room into... a surprisingly normal-looking hallway. She froze with indecision then, one hand still on the knob to her door, not sure if she should go exploring, try to get out immediately, or find someone who could help her.