[ milo might be dreaming. he hasn’t been sleeping well as of late, head buzzing as it tries vainly to keep an impending headache at bay. the liminal space where he finds himself now looks like some sort of lobby, with decor unlike anything he’s seen before. it’s… different. kitschy, brimming with colors and a fuckton of clutter as opposed to the bleak sparseness of homebase. he feels distinctly out of place here while still rigged in his suit.
he’s meant to be here though, that much he can remember despite this hazy disorientation. he wants to lie down. he hasn’t been getting any sleep lately, but if milo rolls onto one of those couches then there’s no telling how long he’ll be down for, so he steps over to the desk and picks up some domed metal thing.
after turning it over in his hand, he sets the thing back down and pokes it. the bell chimes. ] hello?
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he’s meant to be here though, that much he can remember despite this hazy disorientation. he wants to lie down. he hasn’t been getting any sleep lately, but if milo rolls onto one of those couches then there’s no telling how long he’ll be down for, so he steps over to the desk and picks up some domed metal thing.
after turning it over in his hand, he sets the thing back down and pokes it. the bell chimes. ] hello?
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