[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color: ; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 300px; height: 200px;][font=times new roman]This was a stupid idea.
Granted, there was no real reason for it to be a stupid idea; there were not any glaring faults in his plan, in all honesty. Join the place, live there, leave if it got boring or stressful. Simple, right? And yet, this just seemed like a troublesome endeavor. Something he'd regret.
But it was relentlessly cold outside, and weird shit was going on in his usual neck of the woods (chemicals being dumped, poisoned animals, you know how it is). He had nowhere else to go but here, did he? Even if he wasn't too keen on it.
Balanced on a fencepost, on the edge of the manor's grounds, was Charles. Charlie, for short, even though he hated that nickname. It was just as long as Charles, wasn't it? Why not just call him Charles instead? It wasn't that hard.
But never mind all that. His name was Charles, and he expected that someone'd arrive soon. He'd spied on this place for a few days, just to see if it was dangerous or not. It didn't seem to be, and they seemed to have a generally lax procedure when it came to joiners. Some spiel about name and intent, yada yada. They were gonna let him in. Probably. Hopefully.
If they didn't, well. He'd be fucked, wouldn't he?
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