Post by Reede on Dec 10, 2016 14:15:07 GMT -5
City: London
Fake Detail: Christchurch Corner
Beef: The top floor of an empty, unused porcelain factory and warehouse.
Significance: Home of Avery and Felix Flynn, hooligans.
From RP:
That time of morning in the Loft found Avery Flynn drooling and muttering into his pillow while his brother banged things around as he worked to accidentally--"I'm so terribly sorry, can you forgive my clumsiness"--wake him up. The Loft sat atop Christchurch Corner, over what had once been a huge porcelain factory, now gutted and mostly empty. It featured worn wood floors, towering ceilings on the top floor where they lived, and tall, grand windows that came with fire doors rather than shutters. All of the things that made the Loft liveable were late additions, except for the heating. The divisions for privacy were foldable dressing screens, rarely bothered with. The "kitchen" was a stove, an icebox, and a tub. These were rarely ever used. There was a table and chairs near them, also more storage than a pleasant social corner. The beds, wardrobes, huge copper bath, and the like were all smooshed to the far end away from the great wide stair that hugged the forward wall. Closer to the stairway was the sitting area, where Felix tended to nod off for the night, fully dressed, and it consisted of some excellent furniture far too good for the surroundings arranged around a long, low table (covered in hand-drawn schematics, books, and dirty glasses) on a huge old Persian rug. Opposite the stairs, just across from the sitting area, was a construction of floor to ceiling blackboards, bookshelves and ladders, that covered six of the tall and narrow windows. Avery lived in the Loft; Felix lived in that specific corner of it.
Fake Detail: Christchurch Corner
Beef: The top floor of an empty, unused porcelain factory and warehouse.
Significance: Home of Avery and Felix Flynn, hooligans.
From RP:
That time of morning in the Loft found Avery Flynn drooling and muttering into his pillow while his brother banged things around as he worked to accidentally--"I'm so terribly sorry, can you forgive my clumsiness"--wake him up. The Loft sat atop Christchurch Corner, over what had once been a huge porcelain factory, now gutted and mostly empty. It featured worn wood floors, towering ceilings on the top floor where they lived, and tall, grand windows that came with fire doors rather than shutters. All of the things that made the Loft liveable were late additions, except for the heating. The divisions for privacy were foldable dressing screens, rarely bothered with. The "kitchen" was a stove, an icebox, and a tub. These were rarely ever used. There was a table and chairs near them, also more storage than a pleasant social corner. The beds, wardrobes, huge copper bath, and the like were all smooshed to the far end away from the great wide stair that hugged the forward wall. Closer to the stairway was the sitting area, where Felix tended to nod off for the night, fully dressed, and it consisted of some excellent furniture far too good for the surroundings arranged around a long, low table (covered in hand-drawn schematics, books, and dirty glasses) on a huge old Persian rug. Opposite the stairs, just across from the sitting area, was a construction of floor to ceiling blackboards, bookshelves and ladders, that covered six of the tall and narrow windows. Avery lived in the Loft; Felix lived in that specific corner of it.