lovecrafty
in
damned
Night 55: Main Hallway 2-East
> Gamzee: Ascend stairs
More corridors, these lit by more faint moonlight rather than assorted unintelligent battery-powered devices. (First thing on the agenda -- alchemize some glow-in-the dark accessories. Hands-free illumination and fashion statement all in one. They were probably stuck with the outdated motif, but a little judicious alteration could fix that. That was, provided, that this was someone's home planet, and they were one return node away from a working alchemiter.)
There were at least four paths forward, counting both visible doors and halls, and arrayed in no obvious progression. The gates, for all their evasive backtracking, had kept to an internal logic. This...sprawled, with neither the mechanical precision of a game nor the open utility of home sweet home. Even her first attempts at building had had more structure than this.
Okay, maybe not. But John had been too busy bouncing to notice her initial, hesitant forays into architecture. This could be a house, after the liberal application of grist and a complete lack of taste.
"I take it you haven't recognized anything?" Low expectations had never stopped her from trying before; persistence made an adequate substitute for perceptiveness, given enough time.
More corridors, these lit by more faint moonlight rather than assorted unintelligent battery-powered devices. (First thing on the agenda -- alchemize some glow-in-the dark accessories. Hands-free illumination and fashion statement all in one. They were probably stuck with the outdated motif, but a little judicious alteration could fix that. That was, provided, that this was someone's home planet, and they were one return node away from a working alchemiter.)
There were at least four paths forward, counting both visible doors and halls, and arrayed in no obvious progression. The gates, for all their evasive backtracking, had kept to an internal logic. This...sprawled, with neither the mechanical precision of a game nor the open utility of home sweet home. Even her first attempts at building had had more structure than this.
Okay, maybe not. But John had been too busy bouncing to notice her initial, hesitant forays into architecture. This could be a house, after the liberal application of grist and a complete lack of taste.
"I take it you haven't recognized anything?" Low expectations had never stopped her from trying before; persistence made an adequate substitute for perceptiveness, given enough time.