Nightshift 30: Greenhouse Yard

[shyboyblue]

[ From here.]Tyler burst out into the darkened yard, waiting for Reid to clear the doorway before slamming the door shut and slumping against it, gasping for breath. He felt dizzy and weak, sliding down the back of the door to land on the ground, trying to catch his breath

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[longlivetehking]

Scar looked at the building further ahead with mild curiosity, wondering where it was used for. He was soon forced to return his attention to the task at hand, which happened to be climbing over the bench. The feline wasn't quite used to his human limbs, which meant climbing was quite the challenge.

Eventually, he managed and caught up with Mason as he tried to open the door in front of them. Scar observed silently as the man gave the door another kick, but it appeared to be stuck.

"You wish for me to open the door?" Scar answered, tone implying that Mason had just asked a very dumb question. The feline glanced to Mason, back to the door, and then back to Mason, and concluded this man happened to be lacking severely in the usefulness department. Must he do everything?!

"Hn...fine. Because I am such a nice person." He supposed he could make an exception, considering his companion proved to be so utterly useless as of now. Thankfully, he had brought the blunt item he had found a night or two ago. It was of solid material, so perhaps it would be able to do the job. If it didn't, he could always blame the Star Dragon Sword for sharing false information, the foolish shrimp.

Not quite sure how to do it, he eventually opted for smashing the blunt object down on the lock. It took a few tries, but finally the lock broke and the door opened (the shrimp was useful after all!).

Scar glanced into the room beyond to see if anything was there, but it was too dark for even his eyes to make anything out.

"Well, why don't you enter first?" he said with a smile. At least Mason could still serve as life bait when necessary.

[vintage_brit]

Mason tried to steady his breathing. This was so not fucking good. He raised one hand to his forehead to wipe away the sweat.

"Fuck," he mumbled to himself. All he wanted was waffles. Waffles and Daisy. Life... rather afterlife, should not be this fucking difficult.

Peering cautiously into the gloom, Mason scratched one ear, a sure sign some thought was passing through his brain. In case this, it was along the lines of 'holy fuck, it's dark in there.' As quietly as he could, the reaper stepped inside.

[to here]