Sample Entry Two: The bed Alois wakes in is not his own, and that is the first thing that nearly makes him panic. The second is that the room is none he's ever seen before, with other beds too - the last time he shared a room it was a filthy basement floor and he will not go back to that - and the third is that he's still dressed in his day clothes. It seems an inconsequential thing, but if he hasn't been snatched from his bed then he could have been snatched from anywhere, and what if it takes longer for someone to realize he's missing--
He presses his hands over his eyes to calm himself down, even as his lip trembles. It's alright. Claude will come for him and take him home. He won't spend more time in this uncomfortable rock of a bed than he needs to. It's alright. He sucks in a deep breath and dares to look around.
That's a mistake. The room, on closer inspection, is filthy and run down as well as crowded, and Alois scowls in disgust at the floor as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. Now that he's thoroughly convinced himself that Claude will be here any minute, his moment of panic recedes into a dull irritation with his circumstances. He scuffs the floor with a heel and picks up the still screeching alarm clock with mild interest. It's like nothing he's ever seen before, and he knows this: it's annoying, and he has no idea how to turn it off. Shoving it under the pillow on his bed does nothing, and so he yanks the blanket off the bed, balls it up, and piles that on top as well.
Still, it doesn't help. Alois makes a noise of frustration and hits the linen pile with his fists, stopping only when he hits hard enough to connect with the clock underneath. Now grievously injured, he gives another shout and throws blanket and pillow to the floor, snatching up the alarm clock and flinging it against the opposite wall. Some part of it cracks, and mercifully the wailing alarm stops.
He steps on it on his way out of the room, taking great care to dig in with his heel. As he walks through the (disgusting) parlor of this tiny, miserable little house, he pauses only to glance over his shoulder at the abject lack of decor. Someone ought to say something to this empty room, to let it know how objectionable its existence is.
"What shit," Alois says, and turns with a huff to leave entirely. He will wait outside. Claude will be here any minute, and hopefully with the heads of whoever has brought him here on a platter.
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Sample Entry: boop
Sample Entry Two:
The bed Alois wakes in is not his own, and that is the first thing that nearly makes him panic. The second is that the room is none he's ever seen before, with other beds too - the last time he shared a room it was a filthy basement floor and he will not go back to that - and the third is that he's still dressed in his day clothes. It seems an inconsequential thing, but if he hasn't been snatched from his bed then he could have been snatched from anywhere, and what if it takes longer for someone to realize he's missing--
He presses his hands over his eyes to calm himself down, even as his lip trembles. It's alright. Claude will come for him and take him home. He won't spend more time in this uncomfortable rock of a bed than he needs to. It's alright. He sucks in a deep breath and dares to look around.
That's a mistake. The room, on closer inspection, is filthy and run down as well as crowded, and Alois scowls in disgust at the floor as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. Now that he's thoroughly convinced himself that Claude will be here any minute, his moment of panic recedes into a dull irritation with his circumstances. He scuffs the floor with a heel and picks up the still screeching alarm clock with mild interest. It's like nothing he's ever seen before, and he knows this: it's annoying, and he has no idea how to turn it off. Shoving it under the pillow on his bed does nothing, and so he yanks the blanket off the bed, balls it up, and piles that on top as well.
Still, it doesn't help. Alois makes a noise of frustration and hits the linen pile with his fists, stopping only when he hits hard enough to connect with the clock underneath. Now grievously injured, he gives another shout and throws blanket and pillow to the floor, snatching up the alarm clock and flinging it against the opposite wall. Some part of it cracks, and mercifully the wailing alarm stops.
He steps on it on his way out of the room, taking great care to dig in with his heel. As he walks through the (disgusting) parlor of this tiny, miserable little house, he pauses only to glance over his shoulder at the abject lack of decor. Someone ought to say something to this empty room, to let it know how objectionable its existence is.
"What shit," Alois says, and turns with a huff to leave entirely. He will wait outside. Claude will be here any minute, and hopefully with the heads of whoever has brought him here on a platter.