A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 43: Main Hallway, 1-West
superdynamic wrote in damned
[from here]

Even distracted as he was, Suzaku remembered to stay on his guard as he passed into the main hallway. He would only be here for a moment, but there could still be a monster lurking in the darkness. And it was so quiet and deserted just now that he would make easy prey.

[to here]

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[Skipped from here.]

Hm, no sign of Kaiji in the halls- plenty of other patients out and about, though, as well as doors he didn't quite remember being there during the day.

He shined his flashlight down the hallway, to one end and the other. He eyed the stairs warily- it had been a few nights since he and Kaiji had made their ill-fated attempt to reach the third floor. He'd recovered from the wounds on his legs, but the notion that those somethings that had attacked them that night might still be there was intimidating. At least he'd had company that night. He was alone now, and might seem like an easier target.

His shoulder ached again, reminding him he was still injured, just in a different area. His hand went to the wound- that certainly did smart, didn't it? Pain was one of those sensations he'd be glad to be rid of once he got back to his original body, if it existed at all. That was also if he wanted to go back to it- he was having a lot of trouble with that decision, but that was for later. Right now, he wanted to see if his body was even there- if he could just see it, he'd have a lot of his answers about the Institute, Dorothy, and the truth. He'd have tangible proof that Oz wasn't some sort of delusion of a sick mind.

Feeling he'd better not attempt the second floor until he could put his best foot forward, he had a seat against the wall near the stairwell and waited for the ache to subside.

[from here]

Sam walked forward until he hit a wall. There were more people with flashlights in here, and now that his eyes had had a chance to adjust, he could make out lighter and darker patches in the room. Okay, if he was where he thought he was, there were some stairs. Somewhere.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to sniff them out, but all he could smell were people. Well, it had been worth a try. Squinting into the darkness with one hand on the wall and the other stretched out in front of him, Sam set off.

He hadn't gone very far when his foot hit flesh. "Gaaa-aaah!" Maybe he should've been looking where he was going as well. "Err— Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

Not gonna sue? said an inner voice that sounded a lot like Max. Sam ignored it. That didn't even make sense.

"Oh!" The Scarecrow was jarred out of his thinking and waiting as another foot ran into his leg. Sitting on the floor in a fairly busy hallway probably hadn't been the best idea- better add that to the growing pile of not-so-good ideas he'd had since he'd been here. He leaned against the wall and clumsily got to his feet.

"Pardon me- didn't mean to be in the way," he said, clicking his flashlight on. He looked back toward the still-intimidating stairwell. "You wouldn't happen to be going this way, would you?"

Oh, there were the stairs.

"Yeah, that's right," said Sam. "We're— I'm looking for the place where all our stuff is kept. Have you been there? And where'd you get that flashlight?"

Still no monsters, he noticed. Unless this guy was a monster in disguise or something.

"This?" asked the Scarecrow as he clicked his light off and on again. "It was in my room. I was under the impression everyone had one." Well, at least he and Kaiji had them. And some of the other folks he'd met. Maybe he'd just been lucky.

"As for where our stuff is kept," he continued, reaching for his journal, "You mean out stuff before we got here? Things the Institute took?" This was certainly convenient! He might not be able to find his original body, but he could find something else he needed that would still act as proof of Oz's existence: his Doctorate in Thinkology.

He studied the map he'd copied days ago, not having done so until now. He probably should have thought of going to find his diploma himself before, but he attributed his lack of the idea to his lack of brains. "There's a place on the second floor called the 'Patient Possessions Room.' Sounds like a likely locale for our things."

He straightened, thinking of something else. "Hey! You're headed there, right? Here's an idea- let's go there together. I've got something I've lost, and I really need it back! There's safety in numbers, you know."

"But—" Sam sighed. "Never mind." Maybe he'd missed something obvious, but he wasn't going to stumble in the dark all the way back to his room to check.

After the other man finished talking, Sam said "By all the social dysfunctions of paranoid schizophrenia! What an astonishingly convenient coincidence! Let's go!"

It didn't occur to Sam that he was being abrupt, even for him. All he cared about was getting his adrenaline pumping again.

The Scarecrow gave a nod with a smile, happy for the company. He gave his map one more quick glance before turning to the stairs.

"This way!" he called, waving the beam of his flashlight toward the stairwell.

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