"I know ghosts," Pouch puts in hastily, evidently not wanting to seem like a total yokel. He watches Viola slip ahead curiously. "Used to be more of 'em around. Like Miss Yalldive. She was a hoot."
He hums, reaching up to bat at one of the dangling fluorescent lights, looking as much like a teenager as the rest of them. The light creaks noisily when it moves, echoing down the long hall. "Asbestos! That what yinz call it? I got — had — a brother that was asbestos. And, y'know, if I'm bein' honest," he turns to Mary Grace with a grin, "More of a Blondie fella."
Pouch drapes an arm over Trudy as she draws nearer, pulling her in. "Let's say same as you. Surveying. If I'm lucky, finding something I lost. If I'm real lucky, closing a door I didn't mean to open."
Down the hall, the echoing of that one swinging light continues.
Re: ELFLOCK LANES: Down the hatch! (Open to all ⛓️)
He hums, reaching up to bat at one of the dangling fluorescent lights, looking as much like a teenager as the rest of them. The light creaks noisily when it moves, echoing down the long hall. "Asbestos! That what yinz call it? I got — had — a brother that was asbestos. And, y'know, if I'm bein' honest," he turns to Mary Grace with a grin, "More of a Blondie fella."
Pouch drapes an arm over Trudy as she draws nearer, pulling her in. "Let's say same as you. Surveying. If I'm lucky, finding something I lost. If I'm real lucky, closing a door I didn't mean to open."
Down the hall, the echoing of that one swinging light continues.
Creak, creak, creak. Tap, tap, tap. Scuff, scuff, scuff.
Not a swinging light, now, but footsteps, as though something ahead of them is walking, too.