A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 52: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1
the doorstep of heaven shining down
poorexample wrote in damned
[From here.]

While it was his first time heading up the stairs, Castiel felt no trepidation. Even if he was alone and it was deathly quiet, he was used to unsettling situations and saw no reason to slow his march upward. Though at the sound of footsteps, he did glance over his shoulder for a split second, to see another patient who was taking the same path as him.

Not completely alone, then, and yet Castiel saw no reason to call out to the man. Even though he did take note of the coat he was wearing, immediately being reminded of his own.

Not, it wasn't his; it had been Jimmy Novac's, but that had been in another time and place.

Turning his gaze forward again, Castiel continued to climb up. He would find the chapel in one way or another.

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[From here.]

"There are several witches in Oz," the Scarecrow continued as they entered the stairwell, "and a couple of them are of the nice variety. For example, there's Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. She showed Dorothy- the girl from the pictures I drew- the way to the Emerald City and helped her get home. That's a lot more than I could have done for her."

He shook his head. Maybe if he'd given his brains from the Wizard some time, he could have thought of a way for Dorothy to get home, but it would have taken far longer than using the Ruby Slippers. Everything took so much time and experience- both things the Scarecrow didn't have much of under his belt.

Whilst the Scarecrow explained just how it was 'witch' could mean anything but 'troublemaking woman' (though really, wasn't the 'troublemaking' part pretty much redundant in that case?), Depth Charge was busy tensing just a little as they headed up the stairs. In his time here, this particular stairwell had come to hold a special place in his spark- which was to say he hated it with a burning passion. Just about every single time they came up this way they ended up walking into some sort of monster. Even if it didn't come straight away you could bet your skidplate it'd be just around the corner, like that woman with the electric rapier he and Hime had ambled into.

Still, it was hard to think the Scarecrow would be lying- if the man said there were good witches who apparently liked arts and crafts (?!), so there were. "So you're saying you ran into one of the brainwashed guards, huh?" he said, tilting his head at the Scarecrow. "Yeah. Poor slaggers barely even know where they are when it happens. Can't say I've ever cut-and-pasted with any of 'em, but hey. What do I know about witches, huh?"

[to here]

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