write an m.o novel

write a few paragraphs (one is fine) and continue the story in this thread to make a collaborative m.o. novel keep the world, plot, characterization as consistent as possible (though it hasn't developed much of either yet!) it'd be neat to keep it on rails but if it goes off into memeland so be it ======================================================================================================================= I awoke in a dark place. Before I opened my eyes, there were simply sounds. A horn, a drill, a siren, a dog's bark. I rolled out of a bed - was it my bed? - and pulled open the shade to see a bustling city street. Light poured into the room, and I saw that I was in a simple room. There was a bed with blue sheets, which I sat on, thinking. A dresser, with nothing in its drawers but what appeared to be an Ithian Passport (that country was over the mountains, my mind told me). The picture inside did not look familiar to me, so I will not waste words describing it. The name, "Nona Mata", I mouthed. Age: 18, Occupation: Diplomat, Blood Type: B. I shut the book and tried to slip it into my pocket, only to find that I had none. I then squeezed it inside my shoe instead to conceal it - I could be stealing, after all - and my eyes flicked over the rest of the bare room. What was only left to see was a door, below which was a broken vial and a mysterious brown-red sticky liquid that had dried. It was at this point I became aware that my memories were some place beyond me. ======================================================================================================================

im changing it to a reader insert because thats easier for me to write ^v^; change it back to first person in the next one ============================================================================================================================================================================= Kneeling down, you inspected the mess. Whatever the contents of the vial had been, it appeared to have saturated the wood beneath it, distorting it slightly. 'How peculiar,' you thought. The vial was quite small, perhaps two or three inches in length, and had broken in two. Standing back up, you took the door knob into your hand, a shiver running ominously up your shine. Shaking the sudden anxiety from your body, you twisted the handle, taking care to step over the mess on the floor beneath you. Darkness met you as you entered a long hallway. You could see framed paintings hanging from the white walls, but it was too dim to properly make them out. The scene before you held no nostalgia or sense of deja vu, which worried you. 'Where could I be? Just what happened last night?' Squinting your eyes, you were able to make out a light switch on the wall a few feet away. Making your way to it, you nearly tripped over something hard, hopping on one leg and clutching the wall to regain your balance. Looking behind you, you saw nothing. Just the smooth brown wood that covered the floor. A sense of dread took your body as urgency for lighting became top priority. Suddenly, you didn't feel alone. Now jogging to the switch, your hand firmingly against the wall to catch yourself if you happened to stumble again, it was as if you were running on a treadmill, the light staying at the same distance. So close yet somehow just out of reach. You picked up speed as you felt an ominous presence behind you. Looking over your shoulder it was as if the darkness itself was encroaching ever faster, threatening to swallow you whole. Relief washed over you as your finger touched the light switch, which you flipped on immediately. As you felt relief to feel once again alone, new dread filled your mind. "Were the walls always red....??" You whispered aloud. Only a few moments ago you were sure the walls of the hallway had been a very plain white and yet all around you they had been painted a burnt red. Clutching your forehead, you could feel the moisture of perspiration. Surely your mind was only playing tricks on you. Surely you were only mistaken, having been too scared of the dark to think properly at the time. Rubbing your hand over your eyes, you looked again, blinking. They were indeed still red, half expecting them to change while you weren't looking. Your hand begun to shake, however, as you looked to the door you had entered through. There was no door there anymore. Just the deadend of a hallway. Desperate for some semblance of anything that could you tie you to that room, you took your shoe off, searching for the passport. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw, indeed, the passport still existed. So the room did exist. Anxiously you glanced at the deadend of the hallway, then turned your gaze back to the passport, opening it up your eyes widened in shock. =============================================================================================================================================================================

The age on the passport had been changed. Or maybe it was always that way? Nona Mata, age 19. Diplomat. You slip the papers back into your shoe, and when you look up you find yourself back into the room you woke up in, with everything the same except the red stain on the floor was gone. You open the door only to see a finite hall with a number of white, equally mundane, apartment doors. Apartment 101, 102, 103... Were you drugged? Were you still asleep? You meaninglessly wrap on apartment 104 with a dead hand. "Hello?" A girl stood in the threshold. Behind her, you could see some of her apartment, whose walls were a deep-dyed red. "Ah, it most be you. Please come in, I've been expecting you." As you walk into her cramped apartment you notice that on her dressertop there seems to be a group of bright colors in vials.