Night 59: Kitchen

[mirthfulness]

> Gamzee: Do something awesome.

The troll would have loved to have been able to do something truly incredible just then, but alas, they were really only breaking into the kitchen. Although the idea of grabbing a few of those pots and making a temporary drum set out of them was very tempting.

But wait. Wait. This was a kitchen. Kitchens

Comments

[lovecrafty]

"Yes. A most excellent idea," Rose answered. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and while she had been willing to entertain the idea that the appearance of her food had been entirely delusion, she still hadn't eaten any of it.

Rose looked over the doors, settling on the one on the far right as her first guess. People read from left to right -- if there was going to be a trap, the one on the left seemed most likely. Unless, of course, the designer was a master of manipulation. Either way, there was a straightforward solution.

"In fact, we can combine our efforts. Three doors, and three of us. Two of them are bound to be dead ends. Fruitless, if you will."

> Rose: Search fruitlessly.

[avengingfists]

Food was really not the first thing on Ilia's mind after having already seen enough gore spread about the floors this evening, but... well, actually, Tifa could probably use some helping getting a few fixings for her bar idea. If Ilia happened to find something useful in her search, then why not grab it?

"Sounds good to me. I'll take the middle door then." That one had a rather large padlock to keep it shut. Luckily, it was rusted and took only a low-level hit from her Palm of Destruction to shatter the weak link.

Yanking the lock from the door, she pulled open the latch and moved into the chilly room.

[to here]

[mirthfulness]

"I can dig it." Though hopefully they'd reconvene soon enough. He didn't actually like the idea of going very far on his own. Exploring with company was always more fun.

He took the last remaining door, sidling toward it with his pillowcase slung over one shoulder, humming to himself off-tune. It was a good thing he'd brought that make-shift sack now. If he was lucky, he'd be able to fill it with goodies. No one could tell him that food wasn't a top priority. He'd waste a night on gathering sweets any time.

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