shinyheartbeats - HOTEL LEX - FLOOR 5 (25/?)
infoAbout This Title
You feel it is best not to turn down his offer.
You peek over your shoulder in hopes that Bean would be somewhere nearby but you see no one. You reluctantly enter with Emmett close at hand. The clocktower was indeed a clock tower. Turning gears of all sizes and lengths run through this enormous vertical space. Stairways seem to turn and twist in impossible directions as if you have just stepped into an M.C. Escher artwork. Your eyes squint as you follow ropes and strings tied in various colors that reach up toward the ceiling where giant circular glass panes sit. Sunlight streams past the clock hands and numbers, reflecting against the various metals so that a beam of light just barely makes it to the floor. Shelves and boxes line the side of the space and stack impossibly high. There also seems to be a railway that cuts through the space at odd angles. There is a small wooden counter on the side of the space accompanied by various tools and mechanisms on the wall. There is no one in sight. You try your best to act as if you've been here and awkwardly walk to the counter and lean against it. The Baron walks over to a different part of the bar and pulls on a rope. A bell clangs loudly. All of a sudden, a door behind the counter opens and a small clockwork figure appears on a railing. It speeds forward and stops abruptly before the counter, its mouth dropping open.
"THE TIMEKEEPER WILL ASSIST YOU SHORTLY, PLEASE TAKE A SEAT."
You set your weight down on a nearby bar stool and Emmett remains standing, only barely seeing over the countertop.
"Always busy, this one," the Baron remarks as he taps his talon against the wood.
You feel somewhat inclined to respond to his comment but you hold your tongue instead. Minutes feel like hours as you shift around in your seat, waiting for the Timekeeper. Finally, as you look around for the fiftieth time, a bell tolls and you look up. A large shape is scuttling across the many gears and wooden platforms along a metal beam. It accelerates and disappears into a wall. You hear the scraping of gears travel closer and closer and the clockwork figure before you scoots to the side as the Timekeeper bursts through the double doors.
"Ahhhhh, Azalius (uh-ZAY-lee-us), what a pleasant surprise." The Timekeeper's voice is scratchy, like a record that has been played one too many times. It's slightly sing-songy as he bounces on each vowel with emphasis.
"...and others." He leans in and peers down at you.
His face is that of a grandfather clock; his minute and hour hand act as eyebrows sitting on top a rivet and cogwheel which appear to be his eyes. The bottom of his face is smashed wood splinters, hanging almost like a broken jaw. Puffs of steam occasionally shoot out from underneath his large cloak that hides most of his body. A couple of arms stick out on one side and they are all metal with gears and hinges surrounded by pieces of old oak wood. You catch glimpses of something flickering and shining on the inside and hear gears and cogwheels twisting and turning. He smells of oil.
"I am here by myself," Azalius says as he pulls out a small parcel from beneath his coat.
"Ahh," the Timekeeper's long arms quickly snatch the package and he examines it closely. "Yes, yes. I see. I will need to process this. One, no— two hours..."
"I can wait," Azalius says, sitting down on a stool.
You let out an exasperated sigh since you hoped the Baron would conduct his business and leave, but it seems what you have said piqued his interest and now he stares at you patiently while tapping his talon on the table. The Timekeeper swivels over to you. You fumble as you dig into your pockets.
> Pull out the pocketwatch.> Pull out the die.> Pull out the spool of thread.> Pull out the keycard.
READ THROUGH THE WHOLE COLLECTIONSTART READING FROM PAGE 1 DONATE TOWARDS OUR GOAL (Read here for what goals give!)
THERE IS NO MORE STORY; UNDER IS THE POLL. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN VOTING ON THE STORY, PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO THE PATREON FOR JUST $2!
You feel it is best not to turn down his offer.
You peek over your shoulder in hopes that Bean would be somewhere nearby but you see no one. You reluctantly enter with Emmett close at hand. The clocktower was indeed a clock tower. Turning gears of all sizes and lengths run through this enormous vertical space. Stairways seem to turn and twist in impossible directions as if you have just stepped into an M.C. Escher artwork. Your eyes squint as you follow ropes and strings tied in various colors that reach up toward the ceiling where giant circular glass panes sit. Sunlight streams past the clock hands and numbers, reflecting against the various metals so that a beam of light just barely makes it to the floor. Shelves and boxes line the side of the space and stack impossibly high. There also seems to be a railway that cuts through the space at odd angles. There is a small wooden counter on the side of the space accompanied by various tools and mechanisms on the wall. There is no one in sight. You try your best to act as if you've been here and awkwardly walk to the counter and lean against it. The Baron walks over to a different part of the bar and pulls on a rope. A bell clangs loudly. All of a sudden, a door behind the counter opens and a small clockwork figure appears on a railing. It speeds forward and stops abruptly before the counter, its mouth dropping open.
"THE TIMEKEEPER WILL ASSIST YOU SHORTLY, PLEASE TAKE A SEAT."
You set your weight down on a nearby bar stool and Emmett remains standing, only barely seeing over the countertop.
"Always busy, this one," the Baron remarks as he taps his talon against the wood.
You feel somewhat inclined to respond to his comment but you hold your tongue instead. Minutes feel like hours as you shift around in your seat, waiting for the Timekeeper. Finally, as you look around for the fiftieth time, a bell tolls and you look up. A large shape is scuttling across the many gears and wooden platforms along a metal beam. It accelerates and disappears into a wall. You hear the scraping of gears travel closer and closer and the clockwork figure before you scoots to the side as the Timekeeper bursts through the double doors.
"Ahhhhh, Azalius (uh-ZAY-lee-us), what a pleasant surprise." The Timekeeper's voice is scratchy, like a record that has been played one too many times. It's slightly sing-songy as he bounces on each vowel with emphasis.
"...and others." He leans in and peers down at you.
His face is that of a grandfather clock; his minute and hour hand act as eyebrows sitting on top a rivet and cogwheel which appear to be his eyes. The bottom of his face is smashed wood splinters, hanging almost like a broken jaw. Puffs of steam occasionally shoot out from underneath his large cloak that hides most of his body. A couple of arms stick out on one side and they are all metal with gears and hinges surrounded by pieces of old oak wood. You catch glimpses of something flickering and shining on the inside and hear gears and cogwheels twisting and turning. He smells of oil.
"I am here by myself," Azalius says as he pulls out a small parcel from beneath his coat.
"Ahh," the Timekeeper's long arms quickly snatch the package and he examines it closely. "Yes, yes. I see. I will need to process this. One, no— two hours..."
"I can wait," Azalius says, sitting down on a stool.
You let out an exasperated sigh since you hoped the Baron would conduct his business and leave, but it seems what you have said piqued his interest and now he stares at you patiently while tapping his talon on the table. The Timekeeper swivels over to you. You fumble as you dig into your pockets.
> Pull out the pocketwatch.> Pull out the die.> Pull out the spool of thread.> Pull out the keycard.
READ THROUGH THE WHOLE COLLECTIONSTART READING FROM PAGE 1 DONATE TOWARDS OUR GOAL (Read here for what goals give!)
THERE IS NO MORE STORY; UNDER IS THE POLL. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN VOTING ON THE STORY, PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO THE PATREON FOR JUST $2!
groupArtist
1k+
shinyheartbeatsverified
photo_library16 albums
visibility39.7K views
View Profile arrow_forward
Comments (0)