[from
here]"Oh, this is inviting." A dark hallway and doors. It was like some sort of odd nightmare, but it felt too real for that. Brooklyn kept to the wall, not yet quite certain of his ability to balance well on these new feet, though he was adjusting well. The one night he'd spent human before was helping with this at least
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Alright! Sanosuke smirked as he stepped out of his room, wearing his modified, if not exactly neat looking outfit. But who cared if the tear was off center, or there were a lot of loose threads. Damn it, he wasn't going to let Pinkie's terrible taste in clothing get the better of him!
But there was a problem. It was damn dark at night, something that Sano had known for some time, but hadn't really bothered him until now. No windows meant no moonlight, and apparently the lantern keepers were lazy in this place.
At least the light stick made more sense now. Sano headed back into his room to retrieve it, then ran back into the hall without much of a look around. Kenshin had said not to stop, and Sanosuke had no intention of doing so.
There were still a lot of questions to be answered, after all.
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Zuko immediately spotted strangers in the hallway and tensed up, ready for a fight after the door to his cell had opened too easily. "You!" he shouted and pointed aggressively in the direction of the man closest to him, but was was suddenly taken aback by the stranger's bizarre dress: a bright, yellow grinning circle adorned the man's shirt, the same stupid Ty Lee-esque face that was also on Zuko's prison outfit.
It occurred to Zuko that there was a slight chance that this man was a prisoner as well, and what would his uncle say... Sugar was better than vinegar for catching flies? Who wanted to catch flies? "What is this place?! Who are you?!" he growled, but lowered his arm and took a less aggressive stance.
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Without scarcely a moment's pause, Sanosuke reached out as he ran by, grabbed Zuko by the collar, and threw him over his shoulder. The kid was pretty light, so it wasn't hard to manage.
"Name's Sagara Sanosuke, kid." Though in truth, Sano didn't look that much older than Zuko, maybe a few years at most. Still, given the scar, it was nicer than a lot of things Sano could've come up with. "And I'm going to meet a guy that has a bunch of the answers you're looking for, so hold on."
[Going to here]
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Whatever Nakago had been expecting to see outside that doorway, this certainly wasn't it. Perhaps he had been in search of something familiar. But, no, everything was different and incredibly strange. Stark uniformity was what was beyond the door.
If this was some new game Seiryuu had roped him into, it certainly was a cruel one.
After fumbling with the the torch-thing he held in his hands for a moment, he finally managed to turn it off. Light would give him away and he certainly couldn't have that, especially since he didn't know the rules of this game yet. Of course, it made it a bit more difficult to see where he was going, but if he kept close to the wall, he knew he would be fine. He raised his free hand to place it against the wall, using that as his guide and, as quietly as possible, he made his way down the hall.
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Mozenrath left the room and immediately noticed the glowing light. True, it quickly disappeared, but he had noticed the man who carried it and judged his distance to be not so far. How odd that it had appeared to be like a fire that didn't burn. His suspicions told him to be wary, especially since he was looking for a magical item that would have made any saavy magic user as happy as it had made him. Perhaps this man was the reason his gauntlet was no longer with him.
Unfamiliar with the technology of flashlights, the Arbian sorcerer moved towards the larger man in the dark with a confidence brought on more by annoyance than by actual bravery. As he approached, he growled, "You there! Where is my gauntlet?!"
If the man was not responsible, surely he knew who was. His large frame reminded Mozenrath of a guard and his silent step struck him as the sort of thing one on patrol might adopt to keep his prisoners from recognizing his presence. It was a bit strange to notice that he was dressed the same as himself...
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And what was this nonsense about a gauntlet, anyway? What would he know about what had happened to his possessions? Nakago certainly hadn't taken anything from anybody, much less a gauntlet; he wasn't a petty thief, after all. Perhaps this man's gauntlet had vanished in the same manner as his armor ( ... )
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"HOW DARE YOU!" He sputtered, deciding upon which arm to continue to shield his eyes with and which one to point threateningly. "I demand that you return my gauntlet to me this instant or I will be forced to hurt you!"
How? The details weren't important. He'd work that out later if the man still refused to acquiesce to his demand.
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The gargoyle gave a start as he was addressed, so many things on his mind that he hadn't even heard Peter approach. Spinning around far too quickly for the tenuous grip on balance that he had, Brooklyn found himself unceremoniously dumped on his backside. He could feel himself go red with embarrassment, something that would no doubt be much more obvious on him now than it would have before.
"Who are you?" he asked quickly. "What is this place?" Though if this man was dressed in the same gray smiley shirt as he was there was a pretty good chance they were in the same situation.
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When the stranger shot out a few questions, Peter couldn't help frowning. Had he just woken up? That wasn't fair at all - he hadn't even gotten a chance to figure out what was going on before he was shoved into the middle of things.
Peter extended his hand to the kid to help him up, letting out a sigh. "I'm pretty new here, too, but this is a facility where they're holding a lot of people prisoner. They act like it's a mental institute during the day, but at night..." Peter stopped and glanced around. "Well, this is the first time I'm going through it, but I've heard it's pretty dangerous."
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"A mental institute?" And he was human. Right. Okay. This was all a spell or an illusion then, and they were going to tell him he was never really a gargoyle - that he was some paperboy with delusions of grandeur or something. Oh, he had them all figured out already.
He just... needed to figure out who "they" were.
"Brilliant," he muttered. "So who are you really?" That should reveal one of Oberon's children, shouldn't it?
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A psychic scent. It didn't rub on his back brain as much as it would a younger man, but he knew it. Oh, he knew it. The daughter of his soul. Jaenelle was here.
Immediately he could tell she was frightened but little else. The fear was understandable, but he wasn't used to the psychic threads giving him so little information. It wasn't worth trying to batter his mind against it. Just a moment later, he also felt a surge of the Black. Daemon, and he was furious. Saetan felt torn about which direction to go: his son or his daughter ( ... )
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