All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.
He types because he can. Not to send, just...to type. Dean isn't sure when it really started. Maybe when he woke up. Maybe it was always there. Maybe it's just cabin fever, the stress of being stuck in one place for too long. Being trapped. Trapped. Trapped.
All work and no play makes Dean a
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[Because it's my line, mine, no one else's.]
You seen the hallways, though? Doesn't exactly look like Overlook Hotel, so we might get to opt outta that honor.
[A pause. The voice is different. New. New. Fresh meat, in a...manner of speaking. That always goes well with some Fava beans and a nice Chianti.]
...you new here? I don't recognize your voice.
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Yea, I am new. Just met Lethe and everything.
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What's your name, sweetheart?
[He's not flirting, this is the usual, actually.]
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[If she's that new.]
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[But his professional help is so...so very free, though.]
And jeez, how'd you die?
[This time can be different, if you'd like to shake things up a little.]
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[le sigh.]
A plaza fell on me when I was pushing children out of danger.
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[That could be problematic.]
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