CONTRAT DE NOT'RP !

- Statut du RP : privé i guess ? :d
- Tour de jeu : //
- Délai maximum d'attente de réponse : hmm, deux semaines ?
- Autre : yes.

Don't you hate it when you wake up and end up not knowing where you are ?
I don’t. It’s one of my favorite pure bliss moment, actually ; you basically forget about everything that's a big deal. Like the fact that you are in a zombie apocalypse. Shit I remember that. Great, now it’s ruined.

… I still have no clue about this place though. No clue at all.

Although it does look like a living room, and an old-fashioned one that is ; chimney made of visible bricks, velvet curtains (there's a dusty beam of light passing throught, so I assume It’s morning – at least I know when I am) ; and a gloomy decoration (weird-ass looking portraits and two skulls in the shelves) ; did I mention the number of books in here ? No I didn’t because it would take a while to count them.

I left the bearskin carpet (where I was sitting) to get close to the shelves, I reached for one random book aaand… it was gibberish. I tried my luck with two more but they were also written in a foreign language. When I went to take a look out the window, the sight was poor as fuck. Only grass, that’s it. I couldn’t open the window, and I’m not dumb enough to break it, the smash could wake up the deads.

It was clearly a home, or maybe a mansion ; he’d have to explore it to know for sure.

I'm usually slow at waking up but, I’m little too conscious at this point to not remember anything related to this location and…an–

And he sneezed really loud. It was really dusty in here.

Apparently I look scary. I say "apparently" cause I don't really think I do. But perhaps you can't know. If it's you, that is. Imagine looking in a mirror and getting a scare out of your own reflection. It'd be silly. Now then, if I am supposed to be scary, I don't know what this is. "This" being the bathroom I woke up in. Rusty and dusty. Hardly charming. Not the first time I woke up in a place I didn't know, and probably not the last. But usually the furniture doesn't sneeze.

I stare at the door. It opened just now. I'm pretty sure of it. Some guy entered, then left as soon as he saw me. He must know something I don't know. Or perhaps it's that curious effect I have on people again. The one that makes them back up slowly. Don't startle the witch. I get up, only now realizing I'm not wearing any clothes. Oh... xzblorgcrap. I must've played poker again. I nervously scratch my chin, then rip the shower curtain off the wall. It'll do. It'll have to.

HRP:

Not a lot of banging. More like a polite knock. I had tried to open the door and escape the bathroom — completely oblivious of how that shower curtain toga made me look (like an idiot) — but no such luck. Apparently whoever that guy was had locked the door. I was confused as to why. What'd I do ? Um... Listening to the sound of my own low, raspy voice echoing and bouncing off the walls nearly gave me a scare. Is that what I really sound like ? Must've drunk a shit ton last night... 'Scuse me...

HRP:

I look down at my plastic toga and shrug. S'not anything else to wear... I don't linger on the "one of them". It could be a lot, after all. Not one of them poker players, not one of them sariens, not one of them droids. Too many things in this universe to fill in that blank space. As for the what I'm doing here... M'not sure. I played poker, I think. As if that explains anything. Perhaps I should've been clearer, but my nerves are getting the better of me. I don't do well with strangers.

" Strippoker, eh? You poor bastard, " I grin. Well, there's some explanations on why you might end up without clothing: poker is one of them, yeah, not the most common reason in those times though. But here again, this guy doesn't strike me as the type of fella you bump on in a normal day. Hell, I even took him for a zombie. " That's all you remember, then? No idea about where we are? " I throw a glance over his shoulder to have a proper sight of the bathroom. Nothing of use, nope.

Um... Some hesitation on my part. Don't have a lot to evaluate my surroundings. There's no window here. Hav'ta see outside, I explain. Gravity doesn't seem too strange, though. And I can breathe without my mask. Thank the god of xzblorgs for that. I get feverish just thinking about the fact that I might one day end up on a planet with non-breathable air.

Two things : firstly, I would really honestly rather not meet any more people. It gets awkward quickly. I never know how to behave. Secondly, why would I need to run ? Does he know something I don't ? Is someone after us ? The CC ? The AGA ? Why is there always someone after us ?! Is it just bad luck or do I truly have a target on my back ? I follow the stranger wordlessly, not making any comments about the fire poke he carries or about the shifty way he gazes about. I wonder what's going through his mind.

HRP:

HRP:

"Although," I pat him abruptly on the back, laughing like a drunkard. "You don't seem like the kind to run away from zombies. More the other way around, am I right haha ?" There's more hilarious than my jokes thought (yep), like this guy in a plastic toga.

HRP:

Err... right... No, not right. No idea what he's talking about. What're zombies... Can't control my speech anymore. Things just blurt out by themselves.

Are rats considered edible where he comes from ? Things must be dire there. Dead rising, eating rats, what else ? My feet move all by themselves when the door is opened. They walk towards the kitchen cabinets and stop there so my hands can take over. Scourging the cabinets for anything edible, not paying attention to the scenery at all, my mind only seems focused on finding food for my companion to eat. There's some canned stuff. My favorite : mac'n'cheese. Got som'thin'.

HRP:

"The fuck" ? Guess he doesn't like mac'n'cheese. Too bad. People that like mac'n'cheese are usually the good kind. Not sure what that makes this guy yet, but probably not trustworthy. Only droids don't like mac'n'cheese (and even then, most do). Me 'finds som'thin' else then...

He pulls me in front of the window like a rag doll. Don't resist a lot either. Maybe that's why. Still holding the can of mac'n'cheese in my hands, like it could accidentally evaporate if left alone on the counter. My eyes try to follow his gaze, but don't see anything. Squinting. Badly. Trying to see what he sees. My gaze turns back to the guy. He sounds  like he's been sniffing glue. Could play along. But is that what he wants? Decide to be honest first : Don't see nuthin'.

HRP:

Um... My eyes dart downwards to the mac'n'cheese. A feeling of sadness overwhelms me. Thought we were going to eat, but this crazy guy wants me to follow him around. Experience tells me it's a bad idea and that only crappy stuff happens when following people around. But can't exactly let him go by himself either. If something happens to him cause of my decision not to follow him, the guilt'd be worse than my empty stomach. M'hungry... Still follow him out, though.