Besides getting out fast and in one piece when something goes wrong? [He eyes the building, expression deeply suspicious. They've dealt with bad things before. That's their business, bad things. Finding them and taking care of them, locking them away from a fragile public that can't be exposed to dangers that fall into the supernatural sort of bad.
But this feels bad. There's something gut twisting about it, it's almost like a scene out of a horror flick than something in real life. Law can almost hear the suspenseful music building up, this would be a pivotal scene if this was cinema...
But it's not. It's very real. And Law's imagination is running away with him. It's surely not as bad as it feels, they're both capable of defending themselves anyway, and Rosinante is one hell of a shot. There's nothing to fear, as long as they're reasonably cautious.] I've got nothing. We'll just look for the radio and anything else suspicious. Just be careful, Rosinante-ya. [There's a small pause, and then a nod in Rosinante's direction.] I will too.
[Law exits the vehicle, and to his dismay, the bad feeling that was resting deep in his gut only gets worse as he takes steps towards the shop. No one would be able to tell, though, save for Rosinante. But Rosinante reads Law exceptionally well. And he can surely see the moment of hesitance when Law comes to the door.
But it's barely there, and he heads indoors after a quick look.
The door isn't locked, the signs all state to the business being open, but Law doesn't seen anyone inside the shop at first glance. Not that it means that the building is abandoned. It just wouldn't be hard to hide in here.
It's very cluttered, stacks of overfilled boxes joylessly piled on what might have once been beautiful desks and chairs surround the desk at the front in a claustrophobic way. They're only broken up in their cardboard and wooden monotony by broken vintage televisions equally haphazardly stacked. It's noisy too, a cacophony of random sounds assault Law's ears, clocks upon clocks, and multiple radio and television programs all fighting for dominance. Somewhere in the racket, the sound of a crying doll can be faintly heard, and a entirely too loud music box.
And it just continues on, every view into every room is boxes and noise, old furniture and boxes, all clouded with a dismal layer of grime and dust. It's too much, it's chaotic, it's so loud and harsh.
And yet, it all feels and sounds muted somehow. Like the dust is choking out some of the sound like it is all the colors.]
no subject
But this feels bad. There's something gut twisting about it, it's almost like a scene out of a horror flick than something in real life. Law can almost hear the suspenseful music building up, this would be a pivotal scene if this was cinema...
But it's not. It's very real. And Law's imagination is running away with him. It's surely not as bad as it feels, they're both capable of defending themselves anyway, and Rosinante is one hell of a shot. There's nothing to fear, as long as they're reasonably cautious.] I've got nothing. We'll just look for the radio and anything else suspicious. Just be careful, Rosinante-ya. [There's a small pause, and then a nod in Rosinante's direction.] I will too.
[Law exits the vehicle, and to his dismay, the bad feeling that was resting deep in his gut only gets worse as he takes steps towards the shop. No one would be able to tell, though, save for Rosinante. But Rosinante reads Law exceptionally well. And he can surely see the moment of hesitance when Law comes to the door.
But it's barely there, and he heads indoors after a quick look.
The door isn't locked, the signs all state to the business being open, but Law doesn't seen anyone inside the shop at first glance. Not that it means that the building is abandoned. It just wouldn't be hard to hide in here.
It's very cluttered, stacks of overfilled boxes joylessly piled on what might have once been beautiful desks and chairs surround the desk at the front in a claustrophobic way. They're only broken up in their cardboard and wooden monotony by broken vintage televisions equally haphazardly stacked. It's noisy too, a cacophony of random sounds assault Law's ears, clocks upon clocks, and multiple radio and television programs all fighting for dominance. Somewhere in the racket, the sound of a crying doll can be faintly heard, and a entirely too loud music box.
And it just continues on, every view into every room is boxes and noise, old furniture and boxes, all clouded with a dismal layer of grime and dust. It's too much, it's chaotic, it's so loud and harsh.
And yet, it all feels and sounds muted somehow. Like the dust is choking out some of the sound like it is all the colors.]