Your eyes blink open slowly. The harsh light beating overhead is uncomfortable and difficult to get used to.
As your eyes adjust, you begin to see your immediate surroundings.
You're in the middle of a large, basically empty, long abandoned warehouse. You're bound to an uncomfortable wooden chair. For whatever reason, a harsh spotlight hangs high overhead, enveloping you in hot, uncomfortable light, keeping the rest of your surroundings in relative darkness.
You quickly find that your bindings, while reasonably tight, are not particularly well made. Perhaps someone particularly skilled or strong could break out of them with relative ease.
It takes even longer for your eyes to adjust to the contrast of harsh light and darkness, but eventually you're able to make out more of your surroundings. Lining the perimeter of this place are pallets full of stacks upon stacks of comically large sacks of flour. To your left is a rickety and rusting metal staircase, leading up to the catwalk, high overhead and in front of you.
You blink a few more times, and begin to learn forward. You can just barely make out some dark figure, standing confidently on the catwalk, looking down at you with their hands on their hips... They seem confident. Smug, even.
The figure grabs the rails of the catwalk and vaults over, plummeting down to your level.
The figure strikes a cartoonish pose as she collides with the ground, as a small cloud of dust flies toward you in the wake of her landing.
The figure stands up, and confidently struts over to you, her shoulders swaying proudly, her head pointed slightly up.
As she steps in front of you and into the light, she's revealed to be a young woman, of moderate build and moderate height. She has short, brown hair in a bob-cut, and brown eyes. She's wearing a black beanie, a black turtleneck, black pants, a gray belt, gray gloves, gray boots, and a black facemask that obscures most of her facial features.
You recognize this look immediately: It's the uniform for a certain evil organization that's been causing trouble recently. This is one of their grunts.
"Hiya, toots!" She greets, looking smugly down at you. You can tell she's grinning, despite the mask covering her mouth. "How's the furniture treatin' ya? Are ya comfortable? Want a snack~?" She leans forward as she speaks, her voice dripping with mocking sarcasm.
