Date: ???
Location: ???
A groggy groan rumbled in Raldon's throat, followed by shifting to roll onto his side and a thud. He blinked, blurred vision clearing as he woke up tangled in a sterile white sheet, cheek pressed to a metallic floor. This wasn't his room. It was A room though, not very big and very... bland. No, he decided, this was not a room. This was a metal box. He carefully twisted onto his back, then wriggled out of the sheet to toss it on the bed. He sat up, crossed his legs, and gave the room another glance. Tiny bed, check. Thin mattress, check. Suspended from the wall, check. Metal floor, check. Odd metal toilet in another room check. Lights... He glanced up through the dark, eyes narrowed... There they were. Check. Probably locked door, check. Yep. This was prison.
He ran his hands through his hand through his shaggy mane of jet black hair and exhaled with a grunt of irritation. How did he get in prison? Obviously someone PUT him in here but what did he do to even earn a stint in a prison? His brow furrowed, brown eyes drawn to stare at the floor just in front of his knees. He couldn't remember. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything of the previous... day? How long had he been asleep or unconscious? He shifted his glance down to his clothing, relieved to find he was at least still wearing the white shirt and tan baggy hemp pants he had put on when he last got up.
Well. No time to sit around wondering. Time to get up and figure out what was going on! He plodded to the door on bare feet and tried the handle. As he suspected, locked. Definitely prison. He walked the perimeter of the room, looking for any way out, anything hint of civilization or other prisoners. But it truly was a damn box. He sighed and went into the bathroom, resigned to his boredom.
The mattress proved to have at least... a little practical use to dealing with the boredom. He propped it up against the wall and repeatedly set the roll of toilet paper to race down it, working at finding the perfect angle to make it go as fast as possible. He added in making the pillow a jump for the roll when he got bored of that. When he got bored of THAT... well... time to flip it over and try again?
Location: ???
A groggy groan rumbled in Raldon's throat, followed by shifting to roll onto his side and a thud. He blinked, blurred vision clearing as he woke up tangled in a sterile white sheet, cheek pressed to a metallic floor. This wasn't his room. It was A room though, not very big and very... bland. No, he decided, this was not a room. This was a metal box. He carefully twisted onto his back, then wriggled out of the sheet to toss it on the bed. He sat up, crossed his legs, and gave the room another glance. Tiny bed, check. Thin mattress, check. Suspended from the wall, check. Metal floor, check. Odd metal toilet in another room check. Lights... He glanced up through the dark, eyes narrowed... There they were. Check. Probably locked door, check. Yep. This was prison.
He ran his hands through his hand through his shaggy mane of jet black hair and exhaled with a grunt of irritation. How did he get in prison? Obviously someone PUT him in here but what did he do to even earn a stint in a prison? His brow furrowed, brown eyes drawn to stare at the floor just in front of his knees. He couldn't remember. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything of the previous... day? How long had he been asleep or unconscious? He shifted his glance down to his clothing, relieved to find he was at least still wearing the white shirt and tan baggy hemp pants he had put on when he last got up.
Well. No time to sit around wondering. Time to get up and figure out what was going on! He plodded to the door on bare feet and tried the handle. As he suspected, locked. Definitely prison. He walked the perimeter of the room, looking for any way out, anything hint of civilization or other prisoners. But it truly was a damn box. He sighed and went into the bathroom, resigned to his boredom.
The mattress proved to have at least... a little practical use to dealing with the boredom. He propped it up against the wall and repeatedly set the roll of toilet paper to race down it, working at finding the perfect angle to make it go as fast as possible. He added in making the pillow a jump for the roll when he got bored of that. When he got bored of THAT... well... time to flip it over and try again?