Pained coughing answered them at first. It goes on for a minute before it becomes clear that whoever's in there is laughing.
"Please. Ow. Anyone with half a brain woulda made the cell the safe spot and trap the outside." The voice, definitely male, is silent for a moment. "'Course, he's too busy setting up his lazy Battle Royale knockoff to do anything interesting like turn the floors into a slide to dump you all into a bumper car zone, isn't he? No sense of style, the murderin' bum."
Upon closer inspection, there's a battered and bruised little man chained to a wall in there with unkept red hair, white clothes nearly identical to Arcade's, and a face covered in the ugly green-yellow of three day old bruises. There's no real bed in his room, but there's a toilet and a bowl of water that're both placed just out of reach.
Still, he beams, showing a broad smile that's friendly despite the broken teeth, and spreads his hands as best he can with his manacles. "Howdy, folks. The name's Arcade. And lemme tell you what. You promise to get me out of here, I'll give you a special, once-in-a-lifetime master password for this tacky, uninspired excuse for a Murderworld."
He tilts his head forward just a bit, watching them between some of the loose strands of his shaggy, unwashed hair like an expectant child. "What d'ya say?"
no subject
"Please. Ow. Anyone with half a brain woulda made the cell the safe spot and trap the outside." The voice, definitely male, is silent for a moment. "'Course, he's too busy setting up his lazy Battle Royale knockoff to do anything interesting like turn the floors into a slide to dump you all into a bumper car zone, isn't he? No sense of style, the murderin' bum."
Upon closer inspection, there's a battered and bruised little man chained to a wall in there with unkept red hair, white clothes nearly identical to Arcade's, and a face covered in the ugly green-yellow of three day old bruises. There's no real bed in his room, but there's a toilet and a bowl of water that're both placed just out of reach.
Still, he beams, showing a broad smile that's friendly despite the broken teeth, and spreads his hands as best he can with his manacles. "Howdy, folks. The name's Arcade. And lemme tell you what. You promise to get me out of here, I'll give you a special, once-in-a-lifetime master password for this tacky, uninspired excuse for a Murderworld."
He tilts his head forward just a bit, watching them between some of the loose strands of his shaggy, unwashed hair like an expectant child. "What d'ya say?"