Who: Edwin & Oliver When: Morning, around 10:45 Where: Edwin's room
The first thing Edwin noticed as he woke up was the rain. He liked the rain, and liked laying in bed and relaxing to the sound of it on the window, and regretted that he'd have to spoil such nice lazy-day weather by having to go to work, and worse, having to drive through rain. Everyone lost their mind when it rained, and seemed to forget how to drive. He imagined it would be a slow business day, with such unexpected rain. It had been pretty damn hot the day before. Really, the way that it was storming was weird.
Not all that interested in rushing into what would be traffic hell, Edwin rolled over to sleep until his alarm went off. Or, he tried to, but found his body less than willing to cooperate. He felt like he was made of lead, and he tried to remember if he'd been drinking the night before, only to realize that he couldn't even remember going to bed. He remembered getting home and showering, and going to grab Riot, his ferret, and then…
Shit. He couldn't remember the rest of the night. Even at his drunkest he could remember some things, but he couldn't even remember drinking. What had happened?
He finally forced himself to try to open his eyes, and even that was a task. They felt like they'd been closed so long that that was just how they belonged. This realization brought attention to how dry his throat was, and somehow he managed to pull his arms up to his face and drag both hands across it, with some discomfort. Something tugged at his arm, like it was under the skin. He rubbed his eyes again, and got them to open, to see what the problem was.
The big problem was that this wasn't his room.
Edwin stared up at the canopy above him for what felt like a long time. The room that he found himself in was beautiful, but very much not his. He'd only seen rooms like this one in pictures. How the hell had he ended up there? He considered this as he slowly forced his limbs to move. The beautiful room, the camera above him, the needle in his arm, the robe he was in… What the fuck had happened?
The first thing to go was the needle, which he thankfully didn't hurt himself on. Then the robe, which he traded out for his pants, which he'd found in a box ahead of him. Just pants. Well, pants and jewelry, but no shirt or shoes. It was what he'd been wearing last, he realized, slower than he would have liked to admit. Last before… Before what?
He needed answers, and he spent a bit of time exploring the room to find none. He also needed water, and shoes, but there were only so many things he was hoping for right away. It seemed clear that none of those things were in this room, though, and even turning on the computer only gave him a screen demanding a network name, something he wasn't sure he was willing to do without more information. With no other options, he went to the door opposite his window, and threw it open.
But the door didn't budge. He gave the handle a few passive shakes, hoping maybe it was just stuck, but he knew that that was unlikely. He went back around the room, trying the windows a second time, then the door again. It was after the third sweep that he ran his arm into the door, trying to either knock it down, or alert someone to his presence. "Hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse. "Hello?"