_Arrival_
Featuring: Ramajan
Oct 16'th 2006
Featuring: Ramajan
Oct 16'th 2006
Ramajan kicked off his shoes into a corner while setting his two bags down on the plain bed. Everything about the room was plain and the furnishings were well-made, but simple. A bed, desk, chair, and small table in the middle of the room which he assumed might be for taking a private meal. If such things were allowed. He had a long window, but he ignored the view for now. There were more important things to be done. Such as unpacking.
The first bag was a larger, cracked-leather satchel. That one he opened to remove a few plastic bags containing toiletry items and then placed it on the floor. The rest of the satchel was full of things that weren't as necessary as the much larger bag made of a thick and sturdy dark blue cloth. He undid the draw strings to reveal the usual things; clothes, shoes, and the like. He removed all the small under garments and put them in the drawers above his bed. They filled only one, leaving the second empty. He took the bag to the closet at the other end of the small room and put it in there, removing only his shoes to line up by the closet door. He'd hang and fold everything later.
Everything he did was done in thoughtful silence. As much as he'd told himself he shouldn't, he couldn't help thinking of home. Wondering what his parents would be doing right about now. Some of his old friends and his school teachers. While pulling out the things from his satchel he placed them on the bed, sometimes rather roughly depending on the memory. Don't think about it. Reminding himself not to think about it didn't help. He sighed and glanced at the computer, wondering if anyone would try to contact him once they figured out where he had gone. Who would want to? He threw the last item of his satchel when he thought that, and was lucky it wasn't fragile. Falling to his knees he stared at the floor for a moment with his hands resting on the bed.
Arrayed on the bed were personal things, some of them just for his own amusement such as the pocket game console and game cartriges along with a few books. Others were what he considered 'tools of the trade'. Whether or not that's what he decided to focus on here was still unknown even to him. There were balls - round and irregular - or many colors and all about the same size, some had colorful ribbons attached to them. Large, flat rings also of varied colors, a long rope twisted around itself - when unrolled it would be ten feet long. Long enough to hang from the ceiling of this room and touch the floor and strong enough to support his weight. Wrapped up in security tape were a few slightly dull blades, and beside them was a sharpener. Juggling was a past-time that he would probably never give up. And if he could make a carreer out of it then all the better.
His raised his eyes to the bed, his gaze lingering on a particular item. "Don't forget me Janni, OK?" Getting up, he took the delicate wind chime in his hands and walked out to the balcony which every room had attached to it. The hook was ordinary metal with a string leading down to a wide, round wooden board, sanded and painted deep red. From that hung a cirle of wooden chimes, all different lengths and polished with a pale green laquere. Down the middle was a peice of metal twisted in a spiral with metal leaves and roses saudered onto it. A lovely peice all together. The last gift of a dieing friend.
"I won't forget you, Reia," he said while lightly flicking one of the wooden chimes, settling the whole thing into a small, slow dance with wooden clinking sounds.
