#novel22

[combustiblerevolution]

novel22

It wasn’t necessarily a simple job to perform, but it was straightforward. Arkham Asylum was one of the largest symbols of oppression in Gotham, where people were thrown and forgotten when there was nothing better to do with them. With a lull in the chaos of the League’s occupation of the city, it would provide yet another piece of evidence against the ‘innocence’ of the Gothamites if the grounds suddenly went up in flames. They’d searched the buildings a few times and most of those they found had to be shot on sight to keep from being attacked by those who truly were insane. Most of them didn’t even seem to be fully aware of what was happening.

Tashi moved through a hallway, sidearm in hand as the others with him checked the rooms as they went. “It’s close,” he said in a low voice, approaching the gated door to the boiler room. Even if there was nothing flammable inside to help aid the fire, there were both a load-bearing wall and a very important support beam right against the room. Whoever approved the building permits for this train-wreck of a building should have been drawn and quartered, in his opinion.

Still, it made his job of razing the place to the ground somewhat easier as he used a crowbar to pry the latch from the wall and entered the pitch black room. He used a flashlight to check his corners then pulled his backpack off, removing the necessary prepared explosives for the job. “Any movement?” he asked over his shoulder. The man in the door shook his head.

“This section seems mostly abandoned.”

Tashi nodded in approval as he placed the explosive on the wall and checked the detonator cap. He did this twice more on the other walls for added measure and slung his pack onto his back, picking up his flashlight once more. “Alright we’re good in here.” He turned and froze when he caught sight of something stuffed behind one of the boilers. At first he thought it was a corpse until he saw the slightest movement.

[smileysandsunshine]

Vorner's Asylum was well-known for its seemingly beautiful grounds and buildings, but everything beautiful always hid something ugly. The Parisian architecture and green grounds dotted with towering oak trees and beautiful roses seemed more like a palace than an asylum, but at night, things looked different. Screams and wails could be heard down the halls, and the moon glowed on empty, black eyes. Here, Nebraska had stayed for a year, barely surviving. Here, she met him. Here, she lost him.

novel22

Jack didn't want to say he hated the asylum, but he did. He couldn't tell if it was better or worse than the last one he'd been in, but he hated it either way. He hated the confinement. He sat in a chair, staring at the wall, bouncing his leg. He was struggling to keep it all together, as if being here was making him worse. He drummed his fingers on the side of the chair, then took out a pen and a notebook labeled JACK in big, sloppy handwriting. He had been drawing portraits of the other people there in his spare time, the one thing he had complete freedom with. He spotted a girl doing something at the other side of the room, and he drew her. He was mostly finished with the drawing before he lost interest, and set his open notebook down on his chair and got up, pacing by the wall. It was so hard to keep his attention for long these days. 

[smileysandsunshine]

Lux had left camp for the city for a few months, deciding to take a break. She hadn't run into any monsters, not quite yet, and spent most of her time in a small cafe unnoticed by many of New York's inhabitants. She took pictures of some of the regular customers, often wrote about them. Most of them were middle-aged or old, she couldn't really relate to them.

novel22

Jack was visiting his mother, and had decided he needed to get away from the constant hugs and ‘oh my god, I missed you so much”s for a couple hours. He had heard that a cafe nearby was good, and having nowhere better to go, he went there. He sat down at an empty table, scanning the menu. He drummed his fingers on the table, looking up every couple of seconds. He could barely read the menu, with his dyslexia. He eventually abandoned the menu, resting his chin on the back of his hand and looking around at the people in the cafe.

[gotcheapwine-archived-blog]

Oli had finished painting and turned on her hearing aids. She was covered in paint splatters and put her paintbrush behind her ear, smiling at her painting