DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Night 51: Gardener's Shed
[flip of a coin]
girlsandgadgets wrote in damned
[From here.]

Within the shed, Edgar found an odd sight- everything was in its place, the shed arranged just as it had been the previous night. There was no sign at all that things had been disturbed: the wheelbarrow was back against the wall, the shovels he and Gren had taken standing as if they'd never moved. It was a strange sight- was it that everything had been replaced by the staff in order to maintain the facade? Or did it reset through some form of magic? It was one more mystery to add to the growing collection.

After his initial scan of the area, Edgar made for the lawnmower, deciding he'd better get down to business before something found him. It was too big and cumbersome to push all the way back to his room- he knew he'd be noticed for sure if he pulled it along behind him. Perhaps if he took it apart and carried the essential pieces...

He turned around, finding the other tool featuring an engine. So he hadn't been imagining it. Closer inspection showed it had an even better build, one that would require less modification than the lawnmower. Long pole, engine on one end, handles on the other- it was so close to his own design already. The only problem was that there were no blades- only a piece of string that presumably spun rapidly to cut the grass. It made sense, but wouldn't be much of a danger to the thick-skinned monsters of Landel's.

Thankfully, Edgar had his pick of blades in the shed, as well as other supplies- he removed the net bag he'd constructed from his back, moving swiftly. He turned the mower on its side, his breath catching in his throat as the weight surprised him. Thank goodness he wasn't hauling it back to his room. Pulling the wrench from his jacket, he unbolted the spinning blades, tucking the ends into a pair of gardening gloves before setting them into the bag. Another find was made as he looked for a second pair of gloves: pivoted shears for cutting hedges. He grinned, taking some loose cord from the bag and tying them to the end of his shovel- they would have to be attached more thoroughly once he returned to his room, but a makeshift pike was better than no pike at all.

Finally, he worked the stringed cutter into the bag, loosening and tightening knots around the pole and handles until it was firmly tied. He bit his lip as he pulled the netting over his shoulder, the sling always a hassle. It looked admittedly silly and he had a feeling he'd have to bend to clear the tops of doors, but if he managed to get it to his room, it would be worth the effort.

[To here.]
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