dontPanic
New Member
“I’m grateful to you. I truly am. But I must say, you do look very odd…”
Like many others, Hank had been unceremoniously expelled from breakfast by Colette. He was now standing in the foyer, looking at the painting. That damn painting. It was there when Hank had arrived in ‘24, but after all those years he still didn’t feel comfortable being alone with it—hence his attempt to break the tension with small talk. Everything he said was true, of course. “If it weren’t for this place,” Hank thought to himself, “I would probably be some nutcase on the street right now, slipping and sliding my way towards my next meal. That I know for sure. Say, this thing is an artistic depiction, right? Who gets themselves drawn like this?”
Suddenly, Hank heard the distinctive sound of feet pounding down the hall. He peered under the staircase just in time to see somebody rush past, seeming very agitated. "I wonder who that was," Hank thought. "Why were they so frantic? Perhaps I will go investigate." A moment later, he changed his mind. It wasn't his business, and there was also a better than even chance that Frida was involved. In that same instant, however, Hank noticed the painting again, and had a second change of heart. "The Owner is starting to creep me out," he remarked. "Gratitude be damned. I shall go investigate."
The instant Hank stepped into the hall, he was met by a second person in clear pursuit of the first. It was Oz. "Ah, so that was Annai," Hank noted, before lunging to grab Oz's wrist. He started to fill his mind with the feeling of sandpaper. "Oz, what's going on? What’s the deal with her?” Hank asked.
Sunsmiter
Like many others, Hank had been unceremoniously expelled from breakfast by Colette. He was now standing in the foyer, looking at the painting. That damn painting. It was there when Hank had arrived in ‘24, but after all those years he still didn’t feel comfortable being alone with it—hence his attempt to break the tension with small talk. Everything he said was true, of course. “If it weren’t for this place,” Hank thought to himself, “I would probably be some nutcase on the street right now, slipping and sliding my way towards my next meal. That I know for sure. Say, this thing is an artistic depiction, right? Who gets themselves drawn like this?”
Suddenly, Hank heard the distinctive sound of feet pounding down the hall. He peered under the staircase just in time to see somebody rush past, seeming very agitated. "I wonder who that was," Hank thought. "Why were they so frantic? Perhaps I will go investigate." A moment later, he changed his mind. It wasn't his business, and there was also a better than even chance that Frida was involved. In that same instant, however, Hank noticed the painting again, and had a second change of heart. "The Owner is starting to creep me out," he remarked. "Gratitude be damned. I shall go investigate."
The instant Hank stepped into the hall, he was met by a second person in clear pursuit of the first. It was Oz. "Ah, so that was Annai," Hank noted, before lunging to grab Oz's wrist. He started to fill his mind with the feeling of sandpaper. "Oz, what's going on? What’s the deal with her?” Hank asked.
Sunsmiter
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