Klaus is slow to come to, realizing his back is killing him, and he scrubs a hand over his face and pushes himself up to a sitting position. That's when he realizes he's on a table. Ah, the familiarity of waking up in the most unpredictable of places. But... he wasn't buzzed out of his mind last night, so that's curious.
Long legs hidden inside a pair of navy blue sweats sling over the edge of the table as he pushes himself down and starts padding, barefoot, through the place. From the dining room into a plush sitting room that calls him back to his elementary days. He doesn't even think, or question if it's safe, as he plucks a bottle of amber liquid from the bar cart as he weaves through and stops to stare at the odd display of skeleton keys. "I guess everyone collects something." He mutters under his breath, taking a long swig of the-- what was it, anyway? Ah, bourbon, burns so good-- in his hand.
{Idle wandering
As he wanders through the mansion, Klaus realizes how much it really does echo of the Academy, in the lavish decorations and furniture, in the smaller eccentricities of that kind of money sitting behind everything in the place. Any number of things in this place are probably more expensive alone, than the whole of the town of Mathias. It was a life he lived right up 'til he was 18, and then dad kicked him out, cut him off, and it was so very the opposite for him after that.
He inspects several of the different rooms in the house (the bedrooms are mostly the same), and wanders the halls with that same bottle of bourbon still tucked in his hand. He could possibly be talked into sharing with the right company.
At some point, someone might hear an affected voice calling out, "This house is as empty and cold as my father's heart!" You could practically hear a hand being held over the heart to go along with the dramatic statement.
II. Day 025
{The mirror stares back at me
Klaus saw no reason not to live a little in the momentary lush of luxury. A shower in one of the most perfect ones he's set foot inside of to date was just what he needed after a long day of day-drinking, honestly. He's stood in front of the chest of drawers, dragging a brush through his hair and wincing a bit at the way the bristles catch on a batch of tangles. "Dammit," he mutters under his breath, yank a little harder than necessary to just pull through it.
While he's mostly distracted with that, he still manages to catch movement out of the corner of his eye, at the edge of the mirror. "Huh?" He frowns a little and lifts his head a little. No one's entered the room, so he shrugs, decides it was just some weird trick of his eyes and goes back to--
No. No, there definitely something there. He definitely saw it that time!
"Okay, very funny, Casper. Just show yourself already." He sounds tired, and bored of the whole thing.
{Distract me from disturbing sounds
Weird little flickers of movement in the mirror, he could deal with. Had done for so much of his life, it was almost second nature to him at this point. And these days, at least, he was more prepared to deal with it all. But these incessant noises coming from nowhere, and everyone, all at once? He couldn't handle, not one little bit. It's the not knowing that gets to him the most.
He can't sleep, and he's freaked out, so he's wandering, trying to find someone to buddy up with. He doesn't want to seek it out and see whatever may be making those noises, though, so if that's what anyone is out to do, he'll kindly decline with a, "I've seen this movie before and we do not want to go investigate. That's where plot devices go to die." and find someone else to kick it with.
Days 024-025 | OTA
Klaus is slow to come to, realizing his back is killing him, and he scrubs a hand over his face and pushes himself up to a sitting position. That's when he realizes he's on a table. Ah, the familiarity of waking up in the most unpredictable of places. But... he wasn't buzzed out of his mind last night, so that's curious.
Long legs hidden inside a pair of navy blue sweats sling over the edge of the table as he pushes himself down and starts padding, barefoot, through the place. From the dining room into a plush sitting room that calls him back to his elementary days. He doesn't even think, or question if it's safe, as he plucks a bottle of amber liquid from the bar cart as he weaves through and stops to stare at the odd display of skeleton keys. "I guess everyone collects something." He mutters under his breath, taking a long swig of the-- what was it, anyway? Ah, bourbon, burns so good-- in his hand.
As he wanders through the mansion, Klaus realizes how much it really does echo of the Academy, in the lavish decorations and furniture, in the smaller eccentricities of that kind of money sitting behind everything in the place. Any number of things in this place are probably more expensive alone, than the whole of the town of Mathias. It was a life he lived right up 'til he was 18, and then dad kicked him out, cut him off, and it was so very the opposite for him after that.
He inspects several of the different rooms in the house (the bedrooms are mostly the same), and wanders the halls with that same bottle of bourbon still tucked in his hand. He could possibly be talked into sharing with the right company.
At some point, someone might hear an affected voice calling out, "This house is as empty and cold as my father's heart!" You could practically hear a hand being held over the heart to go along with the dramatic statement.
II. Day 025
Klaus saw no reason not to live a little in the momentary lush of luxury. A shower in one of the most perfect ones he's set foot inside of to date was just what he needed after a long day of day-drinking, honestly. He's stood in front of the chest of drawers, dragging a brush through his hair and wincing a bit at the way the bristles catch on a batch of tangles. "Dammit," he mutters under his breath, yank a little harder than necessary to just pull through it.
While he's mostly distracted with that, he still manages to catch movement out of the corner of his eye, at the edge of the mirror. "Huh?" He frowns a little and lifts his head a little. No one's entered the room, so he shrugs, decides it was just some weird trick of his eyes and goes back to--
No. No, there definitely something there. He definitely saw it that time!
"Okay, very funny, Casper. Just show yourself already." He sounds tired, and bored of the whole thing.
Weird little flickers of movement in the mirror, he could deal with. Had done for so much of his life, it was almost second nature to him at this point. And these days, at least, he was more prepared to deal with it all. But these incessant noises coming from nowhere, and everyone, all at once? He couldn't handle, not one little bit. It's the not knowing that gets to him the most.
He can't sleep, and he's freaked out, so he's wandering, trying to find someone to buddy up with. He doesn't want to seek it out and see whatever may be making those noises, though, so if that's what anyone is out to do, he'll kindly decline with a, "I've seen this movie before and we do not want to go investigate. That's where plot devices go to die." and find someone else to kick it with.