Hank "Walking Distaster" Anderson (
fuckingpassw0rd) wrote in
entrancelogs2019-01-14 10:20 pm
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DETROIT: BECOME MANSION | OPEN
Who: Hank Anderson & You!!
Where: All around, pick your poison
When: 16th of January (after the event)
Rating: Uh 13+ since Hank is a potty mouth
Summary: Old manyells at cloud rates what he thinks is the afterlife and thinks it's shit
The Story:
[PROMPT 1 - ARRIVAL - FLOOR 1]
After what had happened in Detroit, Hank didn't think he could be surprised about anything the universe might throw his way. He just didn't fucking think that being whisked off into another universe was something he should put in his list of potential events that might happen to him.
Hindsight was 20/20.
"What the hell..." he could only help but mutter as he wakes up in a room that is way too clean and well set up for it to be anywhere he's known. It looks like a hotel room, simplistic in nature but it's still much better than what he had at home. He pinches one of his arms. "Shit, I'm pretty sure I'm not dead but..."
But, well, what the fuck else could this place be? Maybe he had a heart attack hugging Connor or some shit. Wouldn't that be the most fucking ironic thing that ever happened to his life? Finally, after three fucking years of self loathing, the cholesterol finally gets him when he's feeling a smidgen of happiness and where the earth, humanity and androids were heading. Was this heaven or hell? Maybe he's in purgatory. That would explain the fact he didn't see Cole around anywhere, but the fact it didn't smell like burning sulfur either. If that was how Hell operated anyway.
The lack of dog hair makes him a little uneasy as well. As much as the mutt gave him trouble, Sumo was as much Hank's family now any human. A quick check of his pockets confirmed he still had everything he had on himself when he went out to meet Connor, for what little comfort that gave him. What he wouldn't do to see that dumb goofy android face in front of him, maybe he'd be able to explain it.
"Well if I'm dead and this is the afterlife, it's a big damn fucking disappointment," he yells out to no one in particular, hoping that maybe whatever power was listening in and take some notes. They'd need to know that their service was pretty shit. Not even a welcome pamphlet or a beer. He sighs, the creeping realization that he wouldn't get any answers unless he walked out. Adjusting the coat he still had on him, Hank groaned before he slammed the door open and spoke to the nearest poor person who was close by.
"Hey yeah uh...mind tellin' me what the fuck this place is?"
[PROMPT 2 - WALKING AROUND]
The good news? He wasn't dead. The bad news? Everything fucking else, mostly. The prospect that Sumo wouldn't be here to great him was already making Hank nervous and annoyed with this world. He hated it and had barely set his feet in it for less than a day. Still, he'd be a shit detective if he didn't go around the various floors to explore his new fancy-ass prison.
"This is so fucking insane," he remarks, looking at everything. "I think I'd rather be dead at this point. Maybe hell would make a lot more sense."
[PROMPT 3 - WILDCARD]
((Hank will be exploring. If you'd like to run into him somewhere, let me know!
As a note, you can reply with action brackets if you are so inclined instead of prose))
Where: All around, pick your poison
When: 16th of January (after the event)
Rating: Uh 13+ since Hank is a potty mouth
Summary: Old man
The Story:
[PROMPT 1 - ARRIVAL - FLOOR 1]
After what had happened in Detroit, Hank didn't think he could be surprised about anything the universe might throw his way. He just didn't fucking think that being whisked off into another universe was something he should put in his list of potential events that might happen to him.
Hindsight was 20/20.
"What the hell..." he could only help but mutter as he wakes up in a room that is way too clean and well set up for it to be anywhere he's known. It looks like a hotel room, simplistic in nature but it's still much better than what he had at home. He pinches one of his arms. "Shit, I'm pretty sure I'm not dead but..."
But, well, what the fuck else could this place be? Maybe he had a heart attack hugging Connor or some shit. Wouldn't that be the most fucking ironic thing that ever happened to his life? Finally, after three fucking years of self loathing, the cholesterol finally gets him when he's feeling a smidgen of happiness and where the earth, humanity and androids were heading. Was this heaven or hell? Maybe he's in purgatory. That would explain the fact he didn't see Cole around anywhere, but the fact it didn't smell like burning sulfur either. If that was how Hell operated anyway.
The lack of dog hair makes him a little uneasy as well. As much as the mutt gave him trouble, Sumo was as much Hank's family now any human. A quick check of his pockets confirmed he still had everything he had on himself when he went out to meet Connor, for what little comfort that gave him. What he wouldn't do to see that dumb goofy android face in front of him, maybe he'd be able to explain it.
"Well if I'm dead and this is the afterlife, it's a big damn fucking disappointment," he yells out to no one in particular, hoping that maybe whatever power was listening in and take some notes. They'd need to know that their service was pretty shit. Not even a welcome pamphlet or a beer. He sighs, the creeping realization that he wouldn't get any answers unless he walked out. Adjusting the coat he still had on him, Hank groaned before he slammed the door open and spoke to the nearest poor person who was close by.
"Hey yeah uh...mind tellin' me what the fuck this place is?"
[PROMPT 2 - WALKING AROUND]
The good news? He wasn't dead. The bad news? Everything fucking else, mostly. The prospect that Sumo wouldn't be here to great him was already making Hank nervous and annoyed with this world. He hated it and had barely set his feet in it for less than a day. Still, he'd be a shit detective if he didn't go around the various floors to explore his new fancy-ass prison.
"This is so fucking insane," he remarks, looking at everything. "I think I'd rather be dead at this point. Maybe hell would make a lot more sense."
[PROMPT 3 - WILDCARD]
((Hank will be exploring. If you'd like to run into him somewhere, let me know!
As a note, you can reply with action brackets if you are so inclined instead of prose))
no subject
"Bored..." he repeats, looking at him like he wasn't sure he believed it. Then again, if he didn't sleep Hank wasn't sure what he'd do with full 24 hour days. He looks around the kitchen like everything was around to get at him.
"So...how the hell does that even work?"
no subject
"I have no idea. I never gave it a try. I'd assume having a clear thought in your mind of what you wanted before opening up the fridge might do the trick, but that's purely speculation at this point," he said with a shrug. Go on. Give it a try.
no subject
When he opens up the fridge, a bottle of Black Lamb greets him.
"Okay, that is fucking unsettling," he mumbled even as he took the bottle out to inspect it. "Do they have glasses around here, or do I have to close the fridge and think about that too?"
Don't worry he's not going to get shitfaced too much. Just needs a little drink for the road before he's given the grand tour.
no subject
But considering which rabbit hole Hank fell into, it's a little more understandable to drink at a time like this. Which makes him curious..., "What's it like? Drinking." He'll at least look around for a glass for him.
no subject
"Eh you know what, I'll just use the bottle," he replies not wanting to think even more about the implications of having to think about making a bottle appear out of thin air and instead twists the top with the finesse brought on by years of doing this action effortlessly. He takes a sip before speaking again; yeap that sure tastes like the beer he knows.
"I uh...do you mean drinking in general or just alcohol, Connor?"
no subject
"Well, I guess both?" although he meant more so alcohol than anything.
no subject
But also...no.
"Well you're the one licking blood so I thought they'd equip you with shit to be able to analyze but uh.." He takes a sip again to see how he could best describe it. "It's liquid entering your throat. If it's hot or cold you'll feel it a little more as it goes down to your stomach...coffee and beer tastes off. Most alcohol does."
no subject
The most likely answer is that people want to forget something in their lives, but that seems like it would be a reckless way to go about life. What did he know? He's not human, no matter how different he felt after going deviant.