[A: Arrival] It can't be said that he doesn't like a good book now and again, but this place? It's ridiculous. It doesn't feel right, and honestly, all the wars he has pushed himself through, you would think he was ready for the weird and undesirable side adventures. But here he was, standing in a WWII uniform, bullet holes strewn into the clothing, yet the man stood perfectly fine, as if they hadn't hit him.
Abraham is a tall man, standing at 6 foot 4 inches tall, the shoes only helping by a half an inch taller then that. Pulling his helmet off he stood in a main hall way, confused and unsure. One moment in time he was on a battle field, the next he was here. Or he thought that was how it worked. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but here he wakes, lost in a place he didn't know. It was clearly bigger then the white house library, that was for sure.
Whispers in his ear, to save someone, put him on edge, turning to look around, walking to the head desk and frowning as he sits the helmet down. "Hello?"
[B: Non-Fiction Immersion] He was in books. He was in several books. Non-Fiction. Historical documents. So on. He knows he was, as he's read some of them. As he's checked them out in mild disgust at how off they were at some aspects of his life, and how spot on others were. How they sullied the name of his beautiful wife, or completely forgot the name of one of his children, or only focused on the death of Willy.
He hated Non-fiction now. Oh he used to love it, but now-a-days it wasn't something he cared too much for. This place? It's not helping. The fact that it's raining inside was weird, but he pushed through to the edge of the storm, shading his eyes to try to look into it. "This can't be real..." And yet he knows vampires. He IS one. He knows when things are outlandish and still can be real. This seemed so real. His feet were getting wet as water started to splash out of this hall and towards him.
A book. It was because of a book. Open, no doubt. He didn't care who else was around, though there might be someone in the storm of a book too... but he pushed on, headed into the storm to see if he could reach the center. TO try to close the book.
Abraham Lincoln | Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (Books) | OTA
It can't be said that he doesn't like a good book now and again, but this place? It's ridiculous. It doesn't feel right, and honestly, all the wars he has pushed himself through, you would think he was ready for the weird and undesirable side adventures. But here he was, standing in a WWII uniform, bullet holes strewn into the clothing, yet the man stood perfectly fine, as if they hadn't hit him.
Abraham is a tall man, standing at 6 foot 4 inches tall, the shoes only helping by a half an inch taller then that. Pulling his helmet off he stood in a main hall way, confused and unsure. One moment in time he was on a battle field, the next he was here. Or he thought that was how it worked. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but here he wakes, lost in a place he didn't know. It was clearly bigger then the white house library, that was for sure.
Whispers in his ear, to save someone, put him on edge, turning to look around, walking to the head desk and frowning as he sits the helmet down. "Hello?"
[B: Non-Fiction Immersion]
He was in books. He was in several books. Non-Fiction. Historical documents. So on. He knows he was, as he's read some of them. As he's checked them out in mild disgust at how off they were at some aspects of his life, and how spot on others were. How they sullied the name of his beautiful wife, or completely forgot the name of one of his children, or only focused on the death of Willy.
He hated Non-fiction now. Oh he used to love it, but now-a-days it wasn't something he cared too much for. This place? It's not helping. The fact that it's raining inside was weird, but he pushed through to the edge of the storm, shading his eyes to try to look into it. "This can't be real..." And yet he knows vampires. He IS one. He knows when things are outlandish and still can be real. This seemed so real. His feet were getting wet as water started to splash out of this hall and towards him.
A book. It was because of a book. Open, no doubt. He didn't care who else was around, though there might be someone in the storm of a book too... but he pushed on, headed into the storm to see if he could reach the center. TO try to close the book.