Yard work: one of the unfortunate aspects of owning a home. Since Damien lived alone, he had no choice but to do it all himself. After eating a nice big breakfast he went to his room and got himself dressed. The outfit of the day would be an old pair of sneakers, jeans, and a plain white t-shirt; as well as his signature wristband of course. There's was no need to dress up when doing yard work. Who were you trying to impress? The grass and the leaves?

Behind Damien's home lies an old shed where all of the necessary equipment and resources were located. It was filled with way too much stuff. Charlie obviously never took the time to clean it out. After opening the creaky old door Damien stepped inside and began attempting to locate a shears to use on the unruly hedges. Eventually he managed to find it... All the way on the back wall past the gauntlet of yard care appliances. With a sigh Damien pushed forward. Having to step around, over, and beside many unusually shaped things, sometimes all at once, seemed more exhausting then the simple yard work he wanted to accomplish. Damien had made it about halfway through the shed when the door slammed shut. 

With door shut, Damien was now in complete darkness. The shed had no internal light source of its own, relying completely on natural light from the outside, or a portable source of light that whoever entered would bring with them. Now he was trapped in a shed filled with an assortment of blades, rough edges, and sharp corners with no way to tell where any of them may be hiding. Well, no one was going to come for him any time soon. He would just have to try to make his way back through the darkness to get to the door. Damien managed to take three steps before tripping. 

During the quick, yet somehow eternal, journey to the floor he had now involuntarily embarked on, Damien was certain he was a goner. There was no telling what he might land on, or hit his head, or what might fall and land on him. After all he had been through he was going to be killed by a dirty hoe. Or a rake. Maybe an axe. Perhaps the shears would fall off the wall and stab him. Damien screwed his eyes shut and braced himself for impact. What a way die. 

Except he didn't die. He was still falling. Surely he would have hit the floor by now. How could he still be falling? No sooner than after the duration of his fall had entered his mind did he finally hit the ground. Damien groaned and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw were three other people who appeared about his age. There was a blonde, a redhead, and some Asian dude. He quickly sat up and looked around before addressing the trio before him.

[color=39b54a]"Hi, guys,"[/color] he said casually. [color=39a54b]"So, um, what just happened? Where am I? And how did I get here?"[/color]