[IC] Worlds of Fire

ErhnamDJ · 10-11-2010, 09:59 AM

Douglas messes with the door for about ten seconds, trying to get in. He keeps pulling on the door that only pushes open, then he switches over to the door to its right, but that one's locked. He's not used to this kind of thing.

He can smell the coffee. That's the first thing he notices inside. Then he sees a plate with some sausage links and eggs. That's the thing that gets him about these other worlds. Not the technology, or all the noise everywhere, but the food. There's so much food. He once followed dog tracks for four days across the desert, hoping to eat that mutt. He never found it.

There's a man over there. Looks like he was waiting. Douglas goes over, pulls out a chair, then sits down. His duster is split in the back, so he can do just that.

Douglas is tall by his standards, average by most worlds's. His clothes are coated with gray dust that will never wash out. But that's okay. They're so old, so ragged, that they'd probably disintegrate if water touched them. He has a big black beard on his face. It's trimmed, but it still looks big. He has a little bit of hair around the side and back of his head, but that's it.

He takes off his sunglasses, closes the frames, and puts them into a crude protective leather pouch. "Howdy," he says, then leans over the table. "Is this the kind of place where someone comes over and takes your order? Or is it where you need to go up and talk to someone first?"

10-11-2010, 09:59 AM	#3
ErhnamDJ Join Date: Aug 2009 Location: OK	Re: [IC] Worlds of Fire Douglas messes with the door for about ten seconds, trying to get in. He keeps pulling on the door that only pushes open, then he switches over to the door to its right, but that one's locked. He's not used to this kind of thing. He can smell the coffee. That's the first thing he notices inside. Then he sees a plate with some sausage links and eggs. That's the thing that gets him about these other worlds. Not the technology, or all the noise everywhere, but the food. There's so much food. He once followed dog tracks for four days across the desert, hoping to eat that mutt. He never found it. There's a man over there. Looks like he was waiting. Douglas goes over, pulls out a chair, then sits down. His duster is split in the back, so he can do just that. Douglas is tall by his standards, average by most worlds's. His clothes are coated with gray dust that will never wash out. But that's okay. They're so old, so ragged, that they'd probably disintegrate if water touched them. He has a big black beard on his face. It's trimmed, but it still looks big. He has a little bit of hair around the side and back of his head, but that's it. He takes off his sunglasses, closes the frames, and puts them into a crude protective leather pouch. "Howdy," he says, then leans over the table. "Is this the kind of place where someone comes over and takes your order? Or is it where you need to go up and talk to someone first?"