[ Monotones are good at the moment. Brainy sounds reliable and calm, which is what Robbie needs as he tries to balance easing his way out of the throne room with getting the hell out of Dodge. ]
Aw, I don't get to play in the hedge maze? But I brought my croquet mallet and everything.
[ ... doh. Yeah, The Shining is exactly what he needs to be thinking about right now. Walking through a ghostly party, trying to not look too hard in the mirror, where half the crowd is ferocious, haughty, and alien. And not alien in the delicate green dude way, but alien in sense that he can almost see how they'd cock their heads to the side to survey him through slanted eyes, lips curled back into a smile so sharply toothy that it's a threat to his jugular.
The pattern of the floor changes as he steps into a hallway. Robbie leans his back against a wall and waits, half expecting to be followed out. Nothing comes. Five, ten, twenty seconds, and his heart is only pounding more. His head is not in the game. It's in four inches of space in front of the doorway beside him, that he can no longer see through. There's a long slender hand coming through any second. Any second. Any second.
Should he talk? He hasn't woken them yet. Any second. No, don't be an idiot. It's only an illusion. They're probably not even real. They're probably Arcade's murderbots.
That's actually comforting. ]
I ditched the party. You better be worth it. Should I go right or left?
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Aw, I don't get to play in the hedge maze? But I brought my croquet mallet and everything.
[ ... doh. Yeah, The Shining is exactly what he needs to be thinking about right now. Walking through a ghostly party, trying to not look too hard in the mirror, where half the crowd is ferocious, haughty, and alien. And not alien in the delicate green dude way, but alien in sense that he can almost see how they'd cock their heads to the side to survey him through slanted eyes, lips curled back into a smile so sharply toothy that it's a threat to his jugular.
The pattern of the floor changes as he steps into a hallway. Robbie leans his back against a wall and waits, half expecting to be followed out. Nothing comes. Five, ten, twenty seconds, and his heart is only pounding more. His head is not in the game. It's in four inches of space in front of the doorway beside him, that he can no longer see through. There's a long slender hand coming through any second. Any second. Any second.
Should he talk? He hasn't woken them yet. Any second. No, don't be an idiot. It's only an illusion. They're probably not even real. They're probably Arcade's murderbots.
That's actually comforting. ]
I ditched the party. You better be worth it. Should I go right or left?