A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 57: West Wing, South Hall 1-A
mustbethesuit wrote in damned
[From here.]

Empty. Again.


Less witnesses, good thing, yadda yadda yadda. Peter just wanted to get it all over with and get down to the good stuff. (Good being a subjective word here.) The basement. The coliseum of...whatever the coliseum had in store. A fight. Probably with lions. Three headed lions. The point was that they were finally getting somewhere, and now that the hour had come all Peter wanted to do was slice through every other bogus problem barreling his way and head straight for it. He was sick of worrying about Grell, about monsters, about the godawful crap Jessica and her attitude had brought him, about all the people that had left. Being fiction. Kirk had put a better spin on it, but that still did little to ease the grip on his insides every time the subject popped up. And if Captain freaking Kirk couldn't assuage him, then what could?

Getting down to business might. A chance to get answers would be even better.

[To here.]

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[From here.]

"As for this," Edgar said as he clicked his own flashlight off and on, "it's a flashlight. It's sort of a portable torch. It runs on cells called batteries, and they do run out of power eventually. You can get more on the second floor, should that happen. You do not want to be left in the dark here."

Edgar paused a moment before they reached the main corridor. "It really is good to see you, Locke. It feels like it's been a long time." Granted, if he didn't count the brief period Locke was at the institute, it truly had been a while. He still wasn't sure what had happened to the thief after the fall of the world; he resolved to get those answers that night, if possible.

Strange things, flashlights. He'd have to get used to those. However, his attention was pulled away from the new device at the sound of Edgar's tone.

"It's good to see you too..though, I wish you weren't here, but, I'm glad I'm not alone."

It was hard enough believing any of this was real considering the drastic difference of night and day, the fact Edgar was here , at least, made it seem more real. However, something was bothering him.

"Edgar, if you've been here this long, what have you been doing? What's been going on?"

The immediate answer— and the easier one, by far— that came to Edgar's mind was an utterance of how it was complicated and could be explained later; however, he recalled he'd said something similar to Locke before, and in the end, never had the chance. An explanation was all Locke wanted, and was more of a request than he probably realized. As much as Edgar still couldn't comprehend, he owed his friend as much of one as he could manage.

"I've been looking for answers, myself," he started. He kept his back to Locke for now, sorting through the words in his mind as he walked.

[To here.]

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