Night 50: Main Hallway, 2-Center

[chainsaw_royal]

[From here]All quiet so far. None of the usual sounds of combat could be heard coming from the Sun Room. It seems they'd beaten the usual crowd of people heading through there. Of course, this just meant they'd be the first to be ambushed. Wonderful

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[scarefaux]

As Sangamon worked on getting the door open, the Scarecrow stayed ducked behind the balcony railing- he had to admit it didn't seem to provide much of a hiding spot- peering over the edge and watching as Depth Charge prepared himself for a fight. Though he couldn't see very far in the darkness, he could tell the witch (or wizard, though it was probably the former, given the number of witches that seemed to inhabit the hallway) wielding the magic wasn't the good kind of witch at all.

The former strawman looked to Sangamon as he removed the first bolt, the piece landing on the floor with a noisy ktunk. He felt so useless! He couldn't fight, couldn't help, and couldn't even open the door. At least if he was made of straw, he couldn't die- humans were so fragile. What use was he now?

No, that wasn't true. He wasn't useless- there were going to be times where his particular set of skills just weren't helpful, where there wasn't enough time to think things through. While he wasn't as helpful as Tin Man when it came to getting through doors, he had other strengths that would eventually come in handy. He just had to be patient and wait for the right time. Waiting was harder now that he knew more about human mortality, but he had to do it.

He took the fallen bolt, pocketing it idly as he returned his attention to the fight, keeping ready to run into the room once the door was open. Maybe the room would contain something to help them defeat the witch- they couldn't give up yet.

[toxicspiderman]

The second bolt followed the first. Depth Charge and the girl with him were inching back towards the way they'd come. That meant he and Scarecrow could head in without worrying about sitting in front of the TV while the world ended like the rest of modern America.

S.T. stood up and pulled the door out of its frame, ushered the Scarecrow through as well as he could with his hands full of industrial-grade aluminum, and then docked it back in the frame. A casual look and no-one had even been here. A casual tug and it would come down on the head of the tugger, giving them some time to react.

[to here]