F
fish-writer
Guest
♫ Noemie Acosta ♫
Sign: Scorpio
Location: Halls ➙ Living Room
Interactions: Misha, Tae @DarkiusHeavenstein , Astrid @Iceydaze , King @Justin
Noemie stared incredulously at the petite Asian girl, utterly bemused by her casually cheerful tone. A mysterious voice comes out of invisible speakers all around them, and she just flounces her merry way into the living room? Unable to formulate any appropriate words, Noemie just scoffed, an outraged sound in the back of her throat, and started to follow the crazy girl, because she was clearly crazy, into the living room. Misha's stuttered whisper caught her attention before she fully released his arm, and she turned to arch an eyebrow at him, biting her tongue to keep herself from snapping at him not to mumble. Whatever sort of scheme they all were caught up in, Noemie thought it might be best to have as many allies as possible. Stifling her irritation, she continued to follow Tae, her expression stormy.
The room was ridiculous. It was massive and absolutely flooded with light, and the fact that Noemie would've loved it under normal circumstances was grating on her. What kind of kidnapping was this? Was that a grand piano? There was space for at least ten more of them in the living room alone. Was this some sort of next level airbnb marketing?
But she kept her lips pressed furiously together. This was like some genie nonsense, where the idiot with the lamp wastes all their wishes because they don't know how to word anything properly. She crossed the gigantic room at a possibly unnecessary speed, the stress of the situation spurring her like it was a predator she could escape, and she caught a glimpse of a doorway, and stainless steel appliances beyond it.
"Looks like the kitchen's over here," she said sharply, turning back to face the group. "I think it's safe to say we'll make the ten minute deadline." Though a large part of her wanted to storm into the kitchen, Noemie told herself sternly that there was safety in numbers. The layout of the room made it impossible to see fully into the kitchen without potential attackers also being able to see her, so she hung back, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up as she looked around at the ceilings, trying and failing to spot hidden speakers.
Noemie voiced the question that exploded into her mind in a sudden wave of fear. "If there are hidden speakers… are there hidden cameras?" Clenching her hands into fists, she glared daggers up at the cutouts in the ceiling, the corners of the room, and the decorations scattered throughout. That was probably a dumb question, she realized furiously. After all, how else would the voice -- Jessica -- have known where they all were? Imbécile, she thought to herself, closing her eyes. The idea of being spied on crawled along her skin, and she shivered uncomfortably. What the hell was this?
The room was ridiculous. It was massive and absolutely flooded with light, and the fact that Noemie would've loved it under normal circumstances was grating on her. What kind of kidnapping was this? Was that a grand piano? There was space for at least ten more of them in the living room alone. Was this some sort of next level airbnb marketing?
But she kept her lips pressed furiously together. This was like some genie nonsense, where the idiot with the lamp wastes all their wishes because they don't know how to word anything properly. She crossed the gigantic room at a possibly unnecessary speed, the stress of the situation spurring her like it was a predator she could escape, and she caught a glimpse of a doorway, and stainless steel appliances beyond it.
"Looks like the kitchen's over here," she said sharply, turning back to face the group. "I think it's safe to say we'll make the ten minute deadline." Though a large part of her wanted to storm into the kitchen, Noemie told herself sternly that there was safety in numbers. The layout of the room made it impossible to see fully into the kitchen without potential attackers also being able to see her, so she hung back, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up as she looked around at the ceilings, trying and failing to spot hidden speakers.
Noemie voiced the question that exploded into her mind in a sudden wave of fear. "If there are hidden speakers… are there hidden cameras?" Clenching her hands into fists, she glared daggers up at the cutouts in the ceiling, the corners of the room, and the decorations scattered throughout. That was probably a dumb question, she realized furiously. After all, how else would the voice -- Jessica -- have known where they all were? Imbécile, she thought to herself, closing her eyes. The idea of being spied on crawled along her skin, and she shivered uncomfortably. What the hell was this?