Post by Arcen Larush on May 13, 2011 0:24:13 GMT -5
One hour, fifty-two minutes, and thirty-seven seconds... Time ticked along, as it had been ticking along for years. For one hour, fifty-two minutes, and thirty-eight seconds, he'd been riding on this damned train.
What did they know? Outside, the weather was turning heavy rapidly. Clouds bunched and clustered like so many terrified, darkened Mareep. The weather reflected his mood. Dark, brooding, and foreboding. This time, at least, it would not be a grand storm. But it warned of such a storm to come.
Arcen glared everything around him. The lights, the velvety-cushioned seats, the rug that covered the floor. He had not asked for this... He had not asked for any of this...
But now... he thought, as the train began to slow. Now that I am here... Perhaps I should make the best of it. After all, this does grant me oppurtunities... Oppurtunities that I would not have had otherwise.
He grabbed his small suitcase, loaded with what few clothes he had and a small, glass pendant. It had less than no monetary value, and he was too rational to keep it for sentimental reasons or for foolish superstitions. But he kept it anyways. Why? Probably out of habit. What else was he going to do with it?
He was promptly ushered off the monorail, and, without looking back, he strode straight into the cool, fresh air of the island. The wind picked up occasionally, and made the collar of his jacket flap against his neck.
The journey to the laboratory was quick. When he reached it, he stopped short. He saw nobody. He heard nobody. Through narrowed eyes, he looked the building up and down. Finally, he thought Here goes. Time for a new era. Time for a new start. Maybe.
He walked the last few steps to the laboratory and pulled the door open, then waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light.
What did they know? Outside, the weather was turning heavy rapidly. Clouds bunched and clustered like so many terrified, darkened Mareep. The weather reflected his mood. Dark, brooding, and foreboding. This time, at least, it would not be a grand storm. But it warned of such a storm to come.
Arcen glared everything around him. The lights, the velvety-cushioned seats, the rug that covered the floor. He had not asked for this... He had not asked for any of this...
But now... he thought, as the train began to slow. Now that I am here... Perhaps I should make the best of it. After all, this does grant me oppurtunities... Oppurtunities that I would not have had otherwise.
He grabbed his small suitcase, loaded with what few clothes he had and a small, glass pendant. It had less than no monetary value, and he was too rational to keep it for sentimental reasons or for foolish superstitions. But he kept it anyways. Why? Probably out of habit. What else was he going to do with it?
He was promptly ushered off the monorail, and, without looking back, he strode straight into the cool, fresh air of the island. The wind picked up occasionally, and made the collar of his jacket flap against his neck.
The journey to the laboratory was quick. When he reached it, he stopped short. He saw nobody. He heard nobody. Through narrowed eyes, he looked the building up and down. Finally, he thought Here goes. Time for a new era. Time for a new start. Maybe.
He walked the last few steps to the laboratory and pulled the door open, then waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light.
