towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Santana and whoever she meets
Setting: Various floors
Format: Starting action, will match
Summary: Santana explores
Warnings: Language and attitude

Floor 7
[A swimming pool? Well it was summer when she was taken and hey, she wanted to show off her beach body and go swimming. She stripped off her top and pants, ready to swim in her bra and panties.]

[She was starting to accept the fact that she may be stuck here for a while. Why not make the most of it. Santana lets out an exasperated sigh and dives right in.]

[After a second she breaks the surface] Shit it's cold!

Floor 12
[Santana stands in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling and occasionally turning around. She had never felt so small and it was starting to get to her.]

[She shakes her head and lays down, looking at the stars for a while longer until she drapes an arm over her eyes] Anytime now creeps! Just send me the hell home, I'm tired of this game!

Floor 14
[Finally a room that she would find back home!]

[She collapses onto one of the beanbag chairs and turns on one of the televisions. A face stares back at her. No matter how much she changes the channel, the face still stares at her.] What the hell! [she turns the TV off and throws the remote across the room] I hate this stupid place! Argh!

Floor 17
[The room is empty.]

[Except for a bloody hand print and the echoes of screams.]

[Santana turns to leave and almost bumps into you, screaming as she almost does so] Don't sneak up on me like that!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ John just happened to have gone tumbling down post-collision and he looks up at her from the ground. ]

Uh. Sorry? I wasn't trying to.

[she crosses her arms and looks down at him]

bad side. I'm sure you scare people for shits and giggles, but you picked the wrong girl's bad side to get on.

...huh?

The bloody hand print! It's the worst practical joke in the history of practical jokes. At least wait for Halloween moron. [To Santana it's still summer]

[ John blanks out for a moment before looking at the handprint. ]

[ a pause. ]

[ and then the MOST OFFENDED LOOK EVER. ]

What? You think I would pull such a lame prank? That's an insult to pranks!

Edited 2011-10-01 01:18 (UTC)

[she slowly leans her head back and looks at the ceiling for a moment] God, you actually are a prankster. Shoot me.

[then back to him] So you're saying that the hand print just got there by itself? I call bullshit.

What would be funny about a bloody hand print? That's not funny. That's finger painting. If I wanted to prank you it'd be a lot better than that. It'd be awesome.

I don't know! You tell me! I don't see anyone else here so it was obviously you.

Give me your hands.

Someone could have put it there before I got here! I don't have to prove anything.

[ PUTS HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS BACK ]

You know you refusing to show me your hands means that you did it.

No it doesn't.

Yes it does! [she is not playing this game with you]

Except that it doesn't because I know it doesn't. [ look, this is all he can manage with no supplies. ]

Well it does because I'm positive it does! I understand that you're like twelve and enjoy playing stupid pranks but this has gotta stop.

Thirteen.

That's what I said, twelve.

No, I just turned thirteen.

No you don't understand, it's like the same thing.

That's like saying being twenty and being twenty-one are the same thing.

Nah uh, that's completely different. In one drinking and gambling is legal and the other it's not.

And here it's either some snot-nosed little kid who thinks trading cards are the most awesome thing ever and a teenager.

You don't listen do you. Thirteen is hardly a teenage. It's a wannabe teenage in the oh look at us we're soooo mature. But you're not. You're still a snot-nosed little kid.