#afremovink

         Perhaps it’s the lack of seeing the man otherwise, or maybe she’s just curious ---- but the little spirit merely observes Afremov for several long minutes, unblinking, with Foxy beside her. When she finally speaks, it’s not with Foxy’s voice, but her own.

          ' Our next challenger looks rather          formidable ------ & rather excited          to quarrel with you as well. Aren't          you shaking in that silly lab coat of          yours, doctor ? '

         Regardless of his answer, the warden hands both Afremov & Shuu cardboard swords. Afremov looks all too EAGER to destroy QUARREL with the good doctor.

         ' Now ------ FIGHT ! '

Rolls !

Shuu ( @whatliveson​ ) = 17 + 3 - 4 = 16

Afremov ( @afremovink​ ) = 20 + 7 = 27

     The sudden grasp at the back of his collar prompted him to raise and press his hand over the front of his neck. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t rather startled by the sudden action by the unknown party. His eyes widened as they were moved. Did he accidentally do something they weren’t allowed to do? Surely he hadn’t played that much? More surprisingly though, it appeared that he wasn’t alone. Not only he, but one of the others had been taken along with him. When he realized they neared the closet, nausea settled in his stomach.

          -[”I- Wait, we can’t-”]-

     In the middle of his insistence that both he and the other man would not fit in such a space, he was cut off by being stuffed inside. Of course, he was not alone. More importantly though - He had been correct. Although they had both been managed to be crammed into the small space, they did not fit in it.

          -[”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”]-

     The robotic being on the other side of the door cackled and he was forced to concede. There would be no one letting them free from outside. Breathing a measured breath in, he attempted to shift his left arm to a less uncomfortable place. It would certainly make the whole thing more difficult, seeing as though it - and the entirely of his shoulder - were metal under the sleeve. At least it didn’t feel pain.

          -[”... I apologize... For getting us in this situation.”]-

afremovink

It had taken her a few days time to adjust to the situation at hand, leaving Iris shut in her room, only leaving to retrieve some food like the salads or chicken nuggets to nibble on. She racked her brain to remember what had happened just days before to result waking up in a bed far too small for her in a dark pizzeria. Nothing turned up, it was totally unexplained. Finally feeling a little more familiar with her surroundings, she felt comfortable, if that word was even appropriate, to exit her room to look for others trapped in the same predicament. She could have sworn she heard voices outside her door after all.

 Iris’ footsteps were anything but quiet in the long empty hall that led from the exit of room 125. Her eyes were occasionally drawn to the crumpled papers tacked to the wall with faded, unsteady lines. Iris assumed they were the works of a child or children, seeing as the decoration of the building was rather childish. 

There were soft footsteps, faint from a distance, but they echoed through the eerily silent hall. The lieutenant’s pace quickened, and if she had any element of stealth or surprise, it was compromised by heavy leather army boots booming on the tile. 

Turning at a corner, Iris saw a man standing. It struck her the moment after who it was. Afremov, though there was something plainly different, that being the injury to his face. After a moment of staring a little too long, Iris found her voice.

“Afremov? You’re here?” Her eyes motioned to his wound, “What the hell happened?”

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          ' What are those funny markings all over you ? '

｡･:*:･ﾟ ♡ .｡･:*:･ﾟ ❤   It's an innocent question; a refresher from the darkness that all of them had been plunged in. Really, the man's appearance was the LAST thing such a vunerable child should have been worried about but -------

          ' Did you draw those ? Or ----- were you born with            those ? A-Are you like an alien from outer space,            Mister ? '

“POISONING.”

The normally vibrant hues of his flames die down; it all turns to smoke, and the light behind his ‘eyes’ disappears.

“Not from the pen, but perhaps from a tampered drink, or a sneaky blade edged with toxins developed to turn the blood to sludge. You believe you lead a good life, but any ambitious fool who runs a business can find threats in things as simple as dissatisfied customers.”

He waves his hand.