Night 59: M81-M90 Hallway

[vsyourface]

Scott Pilgrim became aware that something was different in Landel's the moment he jumped about five feet in the air at the blaring of klaxons through M85.

No, literally, he jumped five feet in the air. He hit his head on the ceiling and everything.

"Ow! Son of a-! Unff!" Scott came crashing back down to the bed, nearly breaking the frame from

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HEY. HEY LADY. HEY LADY. SUBSPACE. SUBSPACE. WANNA GO TO SUBSPACE.

[vsyourface]

Second verse was a little easier-going than the first. Scott was able to follow without flailing (much) this time, helped by his ever-increasing awareness of the warmth of Ramona's hand on his arm. Even through the thick fabric of his coat, the heat seemed to sink through to him. And he couldn't help but smile at that as they made their way through the darkness again, out in some new direction (hopefully the right one).

"Actually yeah," he answered. "Saturdays, I think. - Was it Saturdays? I think it was Saturdays. - Yeah, they give all the patients, like, second-hand clothes and stuff, load them all up on big yellow school buses, and send them off to town like it's a field trip. Brown bag lunches and $5 spending money and everything. It's kind of..." Scott didn't want to admit that it was fun. That was like admitting that Alcatraz was kind of fun because sometimes prisoners got let out into the yard to run around. But it wasn't all bad in Doyleton. It was definitely a nice change from the inside of Landel's, anyway. A bit of a nice change from the big Toronto cityscape, even. With its skinny, quaintly named streets and snow-covered parks, it kind of reminded him of his hometown of _______ in Northern Ontario.

"...Yeah, it's kind of lame," he finished, letting Ramona keep leading him along through the void.

HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SUBSPACE

[inconstancy]

The most shallow part of Ramona wasn't all that impressed by Scott's descriptions, but she could tell that he didn't mind it. Then again, it wasn't like Scott knew where half his clothing came from anyway. She realized on more than one occasion that she found herself wondering the same thing. How did Scott get shoes that weren't falling apart. Who actually taught him to ride the subway? It wasn't like most of them had maps anymore, due to the number of people who ripped them down for the sake of "souvenirs" ... of a sort.

Then again, Scott was Scott. Sometimes, things just worked out.

"Huh, well, good thing I won't get stuck here on Saturdays!" she decided. "I bet they don't even bother to wash that stuff." That was the priority of the matter. Sure, it was vain, but it wasn't like she wanted to walk around looking like ... well, whatever she'd end up looking like in that. Ramona wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Though hey, it's a little freedom," she said, reconsidering the fact.

Ramona didn't linger in the thought for long, though, because as set as she was on moving them steadily, the place didn't agree with her. One moment they were walking along with her thinking of how itchy those clothes would probably make her feel, and the next-

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