The far right wall was smashed, as if it had previously been the limit but the room has since expanded (which, to those who have been here before, is exactly the case). The room on the other side of the wall seems very similar; a creaky-looking narrow condemned lift also sits against the far back wall of the 'new' part of the room. A slot for a keycard is beside it.
The 'old' section of the room appears to be a workshop -- maintenance for the clocks and clock tower. Large gears wind through the area, filling the air with a noisy grinding sound. There are two long workbenches with tools and gears and other most-likely useful things on them; you would have to examine more closely to see exactly what is on there, due to the clutter all around. In fact, almost every inch of this side of the room is filled with clutter: piles and piles of gears and clock pieces and other mechanical parts.
The 'new' section of the room slopes gently downward. It is dark -- not too dark to see, just dim and dismal, as well as dusty. Broken glass litters the ground. Filling the center of the 'new' section of the room is a pile of broken clockwork Rolo automatons. Even from here you can tell that their torn-apart pieces show devastating damage. The body parts are cracked and broken; the gears and clockwork are bent and scattered. Their blank eyes stare sightlessly; some of them do not have eyes in the socket anymore.
On the crumbled wall between the two sections sits a Rolo automaton, mask completely white but wrinkled oddly, eyes huge, brows creased, lips opened in a scream. He sits listlessly, almost slumped, but is obviously 'alive', face turning to follow your movements around the room, watching with a fixed gaze.
The temperature here is cold and unpleasant, numbing.
((OOC: 'Cold' temperature has a numbing effect on your emotions. Consider them muted by around 30-50% (so in other words, they're still 50-70% normal).))
FLOOR B1 - THE BASEMENT
The far right wall was smashed, as if it had previously been the limit but the room has since expanded (which, to those who have been here before, is exactly the case). The room on the other side of the wall seems very similar; a creaky-looking narrow condemned lift also sits against the far back wall of the 'new' part of the room. A slot for a keycard is beside it.
The 'old' section of the room appears to be a workshop -- maintenance for the clocks and clock tower. Large gears wind through the area, filling the air with a noisy grinding sound. There are two long workbenches with tools and gears and other most-likely useful things on them; you would have to examine more closely to see exactly what is on there, due to the clutter all around. In fact, almost every inch of this side of the room is filled with clutter: piles and piles of gears and clock pieces and other mechanical parts.
The 'new' section of the room slopes gently downward. It is dark -- not too dark to see, just dim and dismal, as well as dusty. Broken glass litters the ground. Filling the center of the 'new' section of the room is a pile of broken clockwork Rolo automatons. Even from here you can tell that their torn-apart pieces show devastating damage. The body parts are cracked and broken; the gears and clockwork are bent and scattered. Their blank eyes stare sightlessly; some of them do not have eyes in the socket anymore.
On the crumbled wall between the two sections sits a Rolo automaton, mask completely white but wrinkled oddly, eyes huge, brows creased, lips opened in a scream. He sits listlessly, almost slumped, but is obviously 'alive', face turning to follow your movements around the room, watching with a fixed gaze.
The temperature here is cold and unpleasant, numbing.
((OOC: 'Cold' temperature has a numbing effect on your emotions. Consider them muted by around 30-50% (so in other words, they're still 50-70% normal).))