Post by peytondrek on Dec 27, 2010 18:37:00 GMT
Wall: (DEFAULT) PAINTED WHITE in ALL ROOMS
Floor: (DEFAULT) LAMINATED OAK in ALL ROOMS
Extra Furniture: (DEFAULT) NONE
Extra Details: (DEFAULT) NONE
Inhabitants: Peyton Drek the 3rd
___________________________________________________
Peyton, rolling one of the little purple shot glasses through his hands, was starting to feel more than at home in this strangely abandoned town. There was lots to do, always something to go out and buy and, apparently, way more people than he was beginning to think there was. Not that he was actually considering staying here for much longer than needed, but this was quite the vacation spot if he did say so himself. When he got back to the mainland, he'd have to write a review of some sort about this place. Now only if he could find a hotel...
Peyton's legs were starting to become weary through the walking, maybe it was a combination of the cold and the bump on his head, but things were getting a little too blurry for his liking. But oh...what's this? A building up ahead with balconies? Shaking the unstable feeling from his body, Peyton straightened up and walked on, marching right for the building he could hopefully lay his head for a moment. The shivers just started catching up to him by the time he pressed his palm to the door, pushing his way past into the lobby area of the complex. It sort of looked like the lobby area to some downtown apartment complex. There were letter boxes, some of them with names in them already, a flight of steps, a rather swanky looking elevator and a door right in front of him leading down a well lit hallway to other rooms.
He huffed softly, snapping his teeth, "Interesting..."
First, he looked to the mail boxes, going through a few of them to see if they were all open and had keys to them. It seemed quite trust worthy to have them out there without any lock on the front door, but if anything, the news he would be getting would be from the person who owned the place to tell him to either amscray or pay for the nights he's been staying here. In any case, grabbing one of these little boxes would probably be the best idea; so he took up residence in slot seven, fetching a pen from his back pocket to write his name on the slip of paper to put in the slot Peyton Drek the 3rd he wrote, putting it back into the slot and tucking his pen away.
Next, he so supposed, snapping his teeth again, would be to pick out a room. His mind began to wonder whether or not he would be needing a key of some sort or if he found them sitting somewhere inside the room already. Peyton glanced back and forth between the elevator and the staircase, snapping his teeth again through thoughts. On one hand, he could get a little more exercise in as well as think about what room number he could go to, on the other hand, he could press all the elevator buttons and considerably eff with someone else's day.
Snap...sigh... Another five minutes of body movement would hurt.
For the first time in a long time, Peyton took his time getting to the place he needed to be. Every step up the stair case was rather ginger and slow, letting him take how ever much tiem he needed to get to the next one. Nodding to himself, he was beginning to think that he could stay here for quite a while...where ever this place actually was, because he never had to do anything. No working for Dad. No rushing to meet deadlines. No jet-setting. No meetings. No appointments...the only ting he saw wrong with this was the fact that he hadn't met anyone who could tell him where this was exactly. As he got to the seventh floor, he looked to the purple shot glass that found its way back to his hands...oh yes..and not much partying. Oh god, how he loved to party...but aside from those little things, he could probably get used to not doing...well...anything.
He pushed through the doors and down the hall, looking for his lucky combination of numbers: 710, 711, 712..., "Seven-thirteen..." he sighed, putting his hand up to the cool wood of the door.
Peyton tapped on it a few times, waiting patiently between raps then finally pushed his way in. Inside, the room was dark with the outline of a few pieces of furniture and a kitchenette. Flipping on the light, he noted the door was a little was off by the sliding doors...probably a bed room or another hall way. Setting the glass, down-side up on the kitchenette counter, he looked through the bland, yet comfortable set-up and almost thought to smile. It's quaint. Maybe it could do for a little sprucing up but it's...quaint.
Digging into his breast pocket, Peyton finally remembered it was about high time he got his tobacco break for the day. Kicking the door closed softly, he swiftly and smoothly moved through the room and slid the doors open out onto the balcony. He pulled out a fancy little cigarette holder, a small, silver rectangle with rounded out edges filled with cigarettes he rolled himself. His black and silver decorated zippo lighter joined him next, setting the tip of his cigarette a flame. And...puff...
He could get used to this.
Floor: (DEFAULT) LAMINATED OAK in ALL ROOMS
Extra Furniture: (DEFAULT) NONE
Extra Details: (DEFAULT) NONE
Inhabitants: Peyton Drek the 3rd
___________________________________________________
Peyton, rolling one of the little purple shot glasses through his hands, was starting to feel more than at home in this strangely abandoned town. There was lots to do, always something to go out and buy and, apparently, way more people than he was beginning to think there was. Not that he was actually considering staying here for much longer than needed, but this was quite the vacation spot if he did say so himself. When he got back to the mainland, he'd have to write a review of some sort about this place. Now only if he could find a hotel...
Peyton's legs were starting to become weary through the walking, maybe it was a combination of the cold and the bump on his head, but things were getting a little too blurry for his liking. But oh...what's this? A building up ahead with balconies? Shaking the unstable feeling from his body, Peyton straightened up and walked on, marching right for the building he could hopefully lay his head for a moment. The shivers just started catching up to him by the time he pressed his palm to the door, pushing his way past into the lobby area of the complex. It sort of looked like the lobby area to some downtown apartment complex. There were letter boxes, some of them with names in them already, a flight of steps, a rather swanky looking elevator and a door right in front of him leading down a well lit hallway to other rooms.
He huffed softly, snapping his teeth, "Interesting..."
First, he looked to the mail boxes, going through a few of them to see if they were all open and had keys to them. It seemed quite trust worthy to have them out there without any lock on the front door, but if anything, the news he would be getting would be from the person who owned the place to tell him to either amscray or pay for the nights he's been staying here. In any case, grabbing one of these little boxes would probably be the best idea; so he took up residence in slot seven, fetching a pen from his back pocket to write his name on the slip of paper to put in the slot Peyton Drek the 3rd he wrote, putting it back into the slot and tucking his pen away.
Next, he so supposed, snapping his teeth again, would be to pick out a room. His mind began to wonder whether or not he would be needing a key of some sort or if he found them sitting somewhere inside the room already. Peyton glanced back and forth between the elevator and the staircase, snapping his teeth again through thoughts. On one hand, he could get a little more exercise in as well as think about what room number he could go to, on the other hand, he could press all the elevator buttons and considerably eff with someone else's day.
Snap...sigh... Another five minutes of body movement would hurt.
For the first time in a long time, Peyton took his time getting to the place he needed to be. Every step up the stair case was rather ginger and slow, letting him take how ever much tiem he needed to get to the next one. Nodding to himself, he was beginning to think that he could stay here for quite a while...where ever this place actually was, because he never had to do anything. No working for Dad. No rushing to meet deadlines. No jet-setting. No meetings. No appointments...the only ting he saw wrong with this was the fact that he hadn't met anyone who could tell him where this was exactly. As he got to the seventh floor, he looked to the purple shot glass that found its way back to his hands...oh yes..and not much partying. Oh god, how he loved to party...but aside from those little things, he could probably get used to not doing...well...anything.
He pushed through the doors and down the hall, looking for his lucky combination of numbers: 710, 711, 712..., "Seven-thirteen..." he sighed, putting his hand up to the cool wood of the door.
Peyton tapped on it a few times, waiting patiently between raps then finally pushed his way in. Inside, the room was dark with the outline of a few pieces of furniture and a kitchenette. Flipping on the light, he noted the door was a little was off by the sliding doors...probably a bed room or another hall way. Setting the glass, down-side up on the kitchenette counter, he looked through the bland, yet comfortable set-up and almost thought to smile. It's quaint. Maybe it could do for a little sprucing up but it's...quaint.
Digging into his breast pocket, Peyton finally remembered it was about high time he got his tobacco break for the day. Kicking the door closed softly, he swiftly and smoothly moved through the room and slid the doors open out onto the balcony. He pulled out a fancy little cigarette holder, a small, silver rectangle with rounded out edges filled with cigarettes he rolled himself. His black and silver decorated zippo lighter joined him next, setting the tip of his cigarette a flame. And...puff...
He could get used to this.