Song of the Candle

[Skraal]

((Luciano Ascencio continued from The One Where You Are Crying And I Don't Do Anything At All))

((Sorry, didn't realize this location was still occupied, it's a one-shot now))

The painted walls rushed by Luciano's head as he hurried through the corridors, not even sure where he was going at this point (besides away from the chaos down below). He wasn't sure how it could have happened, but the unfamiliar nature of his surroundings meant that he must have gotten turned around somewhere rather than heading in the exact direction from whence he came. His body ached with fatigue as he stopped in front of a rather fancy looking door, hesitating for a moment before walking inside.

The lavish room definitely fit the description on the plaque outside. In fact, he would have probably enjoyed staying in there quite a lot, had he arrived under less dire circumstances. A fully stocked bookshelf, a nice bed, a kitchen - what other amenities could he have wanted? As things stood, however, out of all the features of the area, the only one that brought him any comfort at all was the fact that nobody else seemed to be there.

He sighed as his eyes wandered over to the bed, a wooden feeling spreading through his limbs. How long had it been since he last slept? It had to have been a while - no way was he taking his chances having an extended rest on an island practically swarming with murderers. To his dismay, it appeared that the consequences of his paranoia were catching up with him - if he kept up this pace, it would only be a matter of time before he collapsed.

Despite his paranoia screaming at him to keep going, to not take any risks, it was becoming clear that continuing on in this state would be just as dangerous. Moving slowly yet purposefully, he grabbed on of the chairs from the kitchen table and dragged it in front of the door before dumping his duffle bag on top of it. It wouldn't be enough to fully barricade the door, but hopefully anyone trying to move past it would make enough noise that he'd have time to prepare himself for whatever was about to ensue.

With that taken care of, he stumbled over to the bed, leaning his sword against the nightstand before climbing onto the sheets and laying prone on top of them. He wasn't going to sleep or anything - that would be suicide, especially considering how many dangerous individuals could possibly be roaming the corridors at any given moment. He just needed to relax a little bit, maybe gather some strength... at least enough to be able to use that massive blade he insisted on continuing to lug around with him.

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a bit...

...

((Luciano Ascencio continued in The Worst Kind of Tribute))