[ The door doesn't rattle; the skeletons don't pursue. Falco is left alone in a bedroom with his sad egg.
The moment he looks up, though, he might realize it's the wrong bedroom.
The master bedroom is, frankly, ridiculous. It's nearly the size of the entire great room downstairs. The bed is huge; the windows are draped in musty black velvet; everything is decorated in dark, stately old woods and cool tones. On the shelves are eerie pieces of bone which might be human. The whole place is cozily cluttered with notebooks and loose papers and abandoned mugs of tea. The bathroom, glimpsed through a doorway, is expansive: two sinks, massive tub, some kind of walk-in closet. This room could belong to a goth millionaire or a vampire.
(John, meanwhile, decides it'll be a laugh to see who let themselves into God's own bedroom... and he maybe ought to keep an eye on the space before anyone finds the things he keeps in his closet. Down that same hallway, he hushes the skeletons and mounts the stairs.) ]
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The moment he looks up, though, he might realize it's the wrong bedroom.
The master bedroom is, frankly, ridiculous. It's nearly the size of the entire great room downstairs. The bed is huge; the windows are draped in musty black velvet; everything is decorated in dark, stately old woods and cool tones. On the shelves are eerie pieces of bone which might be human. The whole place is cozily cluttered with notebooks and loose papers and abandoned mugs of tea. The bathroom, glimpsed through a doorway, is expansive: two sinks, massive tub, some kind of walk-in closet. This room could belong to a goth millionaire or a vampire.
(John, meanwhile, decides it'll be a laugh to see who let themselves into God's own bedroom... and he maybe ought to keep an eye on the space before anyone finds the things he keeps in his closet. Down that same hallway, he hushes the skeletons and mounts the stairs.) ]