(Cold. Jet's dealt with cold before, he's dealt with space cold before. Back on the Bebop there were a few times where the heat took a nose dive due to technical difficulties. The hotel was nothing compared to then. Perhaps the reason being was because this particular hotel so happened to be in Hell. As if embers were only feet deep beneath the foundation of Hell's earth. It wasn't anything like he imagined it to be. Yet, there sure were a lot of evidence that this place is exactly what it claims to be.
Jet makes his way to the lobby, he's led there by flickering candlelight and the footsteps of the other inhabitants. The fire in the hearth lit the room adequately enough for Jet to spy some beverages and snacks. Accommodations such as this were a hard swallow and he had to admit this wasn't the kind of Hell he was expecting. Small tokens of comfort like hot chocolate and marshmallow rice cakes belonged in a familiar space like grand-pop's cabin, not in Hell.
Well, while in Rome..
Jet helps himself to a plate of finger foods and a hot cup of coco before he finds himself a seat, by the window, to keep an eye on the rain - "rain " - of crimson and fire. )
𝓕𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉 ℐ
( It didn't take long for Jet to find his steps to the bar. Once things looked a little more safe outside he followed a few other residents from the hotel lobby to outside. The bar was within walking distance, which was nice, it's not like he was about to mount one of these hell hounds to get himself a decent drink. Not that the hell hounds were offered for riding.
He steps in the bar, his synthetic arm held the door open for some other travelers and he follows in shortly afterward.
Jet finds a stool by the bar and takes to it with a huff. What a ride... -that he can't recall. Did he die? Did he pass out? Was this all one big trip? Nah, this was real, just as real as his adventures on the Bebop. Hell, what a place to be alive.
The balding man orders himself something familiar and is all too eager to partake in what will surely be the best damned drink he should ever have in his whole life - this was Hell, after all.. the alcohol better be out of any world. It better be condemned worthy. )
Jet Black | Cowboy Bebop
𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓖𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭
𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉 ℐ
( Cold. Jet's dealt with cold before, he's dealt with space cold before. Back on the Bebop there were a few times where the heat took a nose dive due to technical difficulties. The hotel was nothing compared to then. Perhaps the reason being was because this particular hotel so happened to be in Hell. As if embers were only feet deep beneath the foundation of Hell's earth. It wasn't anything like he imagined it to be. Yet, there sure were a lot of evidence that this place is exactly what it claims to be.
Jet makes his way to the lobby, he's led there by flickering candlelight and the footsteps of the other inhabitants. The fire in the hearth lit the room adequately enough for Jet to spy some beverages and snacks. Accommodations such as this were a hard swallow and he had to admit this wasn't the kind of Hell he was expecting. Small tokens of comfort like hot chocolate and marshmallow rice cakes belonged in a familiar space like grand-pop's cabin, not in Hell.
Well, while in Rome..
Jet helps himself to a plate of finger foods and a hot cup of coco before he finds himself a seat, by the window, to keep an eye on the rain - "rain " - of crimson and fire. )
𝓕𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷
𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉 ℐ
( It didn't take long for Jet to find his steps to the bar. Once things looked a little more safe outside he followed a few other residents from the hotel lobby to outside. The bar was within walking distance, which was nice, it's not like he was about to mount one of these hell hounds to get himself a decent drink. Not that the hell hounds were offered for riding.
He steps in the bar, his synthetic arm held the door open for some other travelers and he follows in shortly afterward.
Jet finds a stool by the bar and takes to it with a huff. What a ride... -that he can't recall. Did he die? Did he pass out? Was this all one big trip? Nah, this was real, just as real as his adventures on the Bebop. Hell, what a place to be alive.
The balding man orders himself something familiar and is all too eager to partake in what will surely be the best damned drink he should ever have in his whole life - this was Hell, after all.. the alcohol better be out of any world. It better be condemned worthy. )