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Message: <blockquote data-quote="James Heard" data-source="post: 3986028" data-attributes="member: 7280">Walking through the Looking GlassHe stared at himself in the mirror, willing memories to come to surface in what had become his morning ritual. He checked his teeth, the rings under his eyes, his profile, all to see if today was the day when something new would happen that would reveal the slimmest clue to his former life. God, he'd cut off an arm for the recklessness to have gotten a tattoo when he was younger, or perhaps to have robbed a bank.Then there'd be somewhere to start, someone looking for him. Instead, there was only this: He looked over the spare room with its polite wallpaper and lace throw tossed over the recliner in the corner. He frowned at the white sheets stained with sweat rumpled across the bed before frowning deeper as he simply...thought at them and they vanished before another push and they returned, heavily starched or something like it, crisp and laid out like a geometric design tight across the bed.There were stranger things than a house full of amnesiacs in this place, and deeper mysteries than magic sheets, right?At least he had a name.In A Pool of TearsReluctantly, he made his way out of his room to join the others. He looked at his empty hand, closed it, and opened it to reveal the delicate silver fork before shaking his head and closing it once more to make it vanish. Curiouser and curiouser, or so the saying goes.He continued down the stairs and toward the kitchen...it was a pleasant house, that's for sure. He paused with an errant thought."I wonder if this place has a belfry?"He shrugged and continued his way down to the kitchen.</blockquote>

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