Play@YSDC

Several more hours pass. There's no telling just how many are passing you both by.

"German is a harsh language," says Kasiliev.

"No, that would harm our careful controls in this experiment," says Kasiliev.

"I wouldn't really turn down an orgy of course, but I don't see how that would get us anywhere." Alexander remarks as he plows through his book.

Alexander shrugs, but is clearly not convinced by Nicolai's explanation.

For a moment, the two men feel they are fainting away, or perhaps that the world is fading away, and they are standing facing a white door in a room with pink wall paper. There is a scent to the air. It had that smell that rooms often got after being vacuumed with just a hint of exotic perfume in the air. There is a red-flowered-runner across the middle of the wall. The door knob is brightly polished brass.

Alexander sneezes at the perfume.

"Whatever, just go with it." he says & gestures to try the door..

Nicolai try to open the door.
-Are we in my dream, or in yours?

"Oh, you want to get philosophical?" Alexander asks.

"Strictly speaking, you as you exist now, exist only in my mind." he says "And unless you're a figment of my imagination, I'm also only present in your mind alone as the perception that you have of me."

"As such, the perception that we have of each other, will die with us. If I die, the world dies with me, for the world that I know only exists in my mind." he explains "Does that answer your question?"

"I guess not... Let's not dwell on it, shall we?"

The door doesn't open. The knob doesn't even turn. It seems as though the door were sealed into the wall.

Alexander inspects the door and his surroundings.

The pink wallpaper is merely striped. It looks like the kind of thing you would see in a young girl's bedroom. Turning, they see the creamy ceiling, the creamy curtains hanging shut in front of what they presume is a window. There is a four-poster bed, draped in pink-and-cream sashes. The pillows have gold tassels at the corners. The blanket is a bright red, tucked beneath the mattress. There is a ginger tabby kitten sitting curled up in the middle of the pillows.

Opposing the bed is a white desk with a high-backed chair pulled in front of it, and an open coloring book with an image of a tree on one page and a ginger cat with large red eyes on the other. Crayons and pencils sit next to it. The brand names seem to have been scraped off of them. The pencil peelings, and a cigarette butt, sit in an otherwise empty wire wastepaper bin beside the desk. There are no drawers on the desk.

There is a white wardrobe. A white dressing table with only a tube of lipstick and a blush compact sitting before the mirror that reflects the room somewhat blurrily.

The floor is covered in a plush, red carpet.

The overhead light had a gold-edged, creamy-colored shade.

There is a seat beside the bed with a glass of what appears to be water sitting on top of it. There is another cigarette sitting beside this.

There is also a coat rack containing a long, red coat.

And standing before the bed is a tripod, much as one might mount a camera upon, though there is no camera in sight.

Nicolai get's the tripod and try to hide it.

The tripod easily lifts in his hand. In fact, it seems somewhat light-weight without a camera sitting on it. Where was he to hide it, however?