Logan Snow

"Top Of the mornin to ya Mr. Snow;we're glad to have you at Wilshire Tower after all It's not everyday we get such a prominent war veteran to stay at Wilshire Tower" says Mr. McHale. "Morning, is my room ready Mr. McHale?" says Logan."Ah, no need to call me by my father's name, feel free to call me Hannity son. "Okay sure, keys?" says Logan. "Here you go, got them right here, room number 666" says Mr. McHale. "Thanks" well I'll be on my way. I took the elevator up to the floor below my room and walk down the hall towards the stairs just for mere observation and to my suprise I saw knowone around. Surely we all expect to see someone fumbling with their keys at their door or atleast entering the hall even if we may or may not speak to them, but atleast the oppurtunity would have been there. Well, here we are, room number 666; well aren't I lucky. I opened the door and immediately scanned the walls and windows and everything in between from the door and continued in to find a place to drop my keys seeing as though I'd be here for some time. My arms were a bit stressed after having carried my bags from that lovely smelling bus stop three blocks away. You think It wouldn't have felt like much to walk the distance carrying about ninety five pounds of my belongings; maybe it was the pumaling my olfactory sense had taken in this unknown and untraveled town that left me unable to feel like my typical physical self. Maybe the stinches were at fault for the wavering sense I got all the way here. At any rate, this room seemed to smell calm; no smells were protruding at me. The room didn't seem like it had been recently showered with disinfectants and fragrences, it was nice still. I've got a television, some furniture and a standard amount of neccessities. After I finish unpacking my things I think I deserve a good afternoon nap. Hmm, now where are do I want these pendants.