“Alright, here goes.”
As gently as he can, Miles grabs the shard of glass between his thumb and forefinger and focuses on phasing it out of Basil’s leg. Slowly, he moves the jagged piece of the light bulb through the boy’s little leg and out of it without any issue, leaving only the open wound to deal with.
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Fingers clutched at the collarbone.
Eyes shut, flinching away while the knee locks.
And then… A very strange sensation. The cold of the moist, sickly air, the tingling of pain and flowing blood, the void space almost tangible in form. It was gone. It had been removed.
Much against his better judgement Basil creaked his eyelids open the tiniest amount before they shot all the way open at the sight. The piece of glass had been fully removed, and was now held in the grip of the lawyer man. Interestingly enough, but hardly noticed by Basil at the time, was that it was now completely free of blood.
In less than six seconds it had been removed. Any other emotion could wait, as presently absolute awe and flabbergasted shock carried the day. However, his leg was most definitely still the home of an Open Wound, esq., and would presumably still need tending to.
There had been the sound of ripping fabric, but Basil didn’t piece anything together.
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She opened the first door eagerly, excitedly, revealing, the most disgusting room she’d ever seen. Okay, so that wasn’t saying much, considering that she’d only seen one other room and a hallway/staircase, but still. She expected hidden treasures, confused captives like her and the rest, imprisoned monsters that would kill her in gruesome ways. Okay, so that last one wouldn’t have been fun, but at least it would be more exciting than this
Well, maybe the next door held something… nope, more muck and mold and must and mire and manure and probably other repulsive words that started with m. Why does my brain keep alliterating today?
With each door, her despair at finding anything interesting grew, until…
A coin? A treasure coin? A gold coin?
Okay, so the odds were against it. Still, it could be worth investigating… wait, in her excitement at opening every door, she had forgotten to blink. Okay, back to the shiny thing.
How to get to it? It was out of reach, and there was no way she was going through that mess in her bare feet. She wouldn’t even do it if she had shoes on, especially her nice –
Wait, hold on. What kind of shoes did she have? Did she even have shoes? Why had she assumed they were nice shoes? Maybe she had a pair of nice warm fuzzy slippers. Well, regardless, unless they were knee-high rubber galoshes, she wouldn’t tread them through that muck.
But the shiny thing… maybe she could get one of the others to get it? Perhaps the talking fish?
Well, this was a waste of time. Dejected, she went upstairs to see if Eve and that other guy had found anything.
She didn’t even realize she had missed one of the doors…
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Eve glowers at the green panel as if it has personally offended her. She raises a hand, knife-tipped fingers flexing. “That doesn’t narrow it down,” she says snippily.
The cyborg taps the panel experimentally to see if it does anything. Immediately losing patience she follows it up by tracing a finger around the edge, looking for any internals to manipulate.
“Did you find anything else?” She asks Malaco, one eye swiveling to stare rigidly at him.
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The panel does nothing as the knife-tipped finger taps on it. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of internals to manipulate, at least not visibly. But there was something… Odd. It was as if she could feel the electricity running underneath it.
Whatever it was, it had an electrical purpose, and it still functioned. But what could it be? Had anything occurred for Malaco, or was asking a fish what happened two seconds ago a rather risky business?
Not just in terms of info, but your dignity would be a stake.
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Eve makes a noise that sounds like an anvil being dragged over a bed of nails. Low, immensely displeased, and something that would cause anyone to run to see if their oven was on the verge of exploding.
“It’s closed,” she grumbles, turning to stare at the panel. It reminded her of an attic. There’d been one in her old house, hadn’t there? Her family had stored everything up there they couldn’t fit in the house, from old clothes they refused to throw away to extra furniture they’d got from yard sales and goodwill stores.
Eve’s left index finger twitches and her perpetual scowl falls, replaced by a morose, blank expression.
She stretches a little bit taller than her maximum height, all ten of her knife-fingers reaching for the trapdoor. Assuming she can reach it, she’s fairly confident she can tear this stupid door open. Maybe there’s even a way out behind it.
She does notice Sue. Or if she does, she doesn’t show it. Honestly either is equally likely.
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At the maximum level of stretching, she is able to touch the trapdoor, but only barely. Her bladed finger taps the trapdoor, and even with the slight tap it was obvious there was a void space beyond it.
Could this, then, be the way to escape this horrible place? If there was any chance, it surely outweighed watching everyone else walk in circles. Either by conventional or… Less than conventional means, this trapdoor had to be opened.
OOC:
Goodwill is now canon in the Dreamspace universe 
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Sue had an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea.
She had considered that the best way to get the shiny thing in that one room would be to get the flying fish to retrieve it, but how? Were he a normal fish, she’d be out of luck, but a fish that seemed to have some understanding of human language, albeit still the brain of a fish, might be manipulatable. If she could make him understand, all she would need to do is make him listen. So how to convince a fish to retrieve a shiny thing? Well, fish were naturally attracted to shiny things – or was that birds? Maybe it was both. Regardless, she wanted him to get it and bring it to her, not ignore it or try to eat it.
And that’s when she came up with her evil plan, and after a moment of consideration, decided that the ends justified the means. “Hey, fishy?” she said. “There’s a shiny thing in that room down there I can’t get to. If you could bring it to me, it might contain food…”
Well, it was technically true. It could be a can of fish food.
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“Sorry, didn’t know your name,” Sue replied. A part of her couldn’t believe she’d just said that to a fish, but her apology was genuine; she’d probably insulted him. She definitely needed to learn everyone’s names at the soonest opportunity, so as to avoid this.
Okay, so she probably would’ve called Malaco “fishy” just now even if she had known his name – she would have thought it a funny nickname – but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
Also, she was probably about to offend him again. He might hate her forever after this. Still… doing her best to quash her regret, she led the fish to the room with the broken chair.
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If blinking had come more naturally to Sue, she probably would’ve, the thought had never occurred to her. Although, now that it had, it might be funny if – no, bad brain, being mean to a fish is not funny. I’m being mean enough as it is.
“I promise I will not,” she said genuinely, taking a step back from the door. Of course, she probably could’ve reached it to shut it anyway, if she had actually intended to; the gesture was merely symbolic. She tried to give a slight smile to indicate she was sincere, before remembering she had no mouth.
Wait, then how was she talking?
Better not to question it.
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Surprisingly mold-free, it was incredibly obvious that it did not contain food at all. In fact, it couldn’t contain anything whatsoever.
The object was completely flat, laminated, and at that angle one hundred percent not shiny. There was an extremely cutesy illustration of the bust and right arm of a fat, smiling, moustachioed man in an apron with a cylindrical brimless hat with an extremely flat top, who unlike the rest of the card had extremely reflective golden skin printed into the illustration. Large characters of some kind were directly next to him, with much tinier ones underneath, but unfortunately for Malaco, he couldn’t read.
There was a further diagram of an arrow leading to a building and what appeared to be water, like the ocean, but nothing else discernable.
Malaco is able to get a good amount of the corner in his mouth, but the majority of the card is simply far too big. Thankfully, it’s relatively light, if Malaco wanted to drag it to the door.
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“Finally. Other people.”
Jung briefly considered walking in to speak to the pair when he realised
"Where do I know this place from? Why does it smell so bad? Jung tried to wrack his memory but could find nothing. He also heard the conversations happening below him. What if these figures weren’t helpful? Had he just jepardized the safety of the group due to a silly mistake? And what was that strange thing on the floor?
Jung quickly ducked behind the open door and waited to see if the pair of figures did anything.
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In the dark of that room, Jung never heard Malaco’s protest towards his action. Mold clung to the walls, moisture seemed to ooze from every surface, and the two figures beyond did very little. Now that he had passed the first doorway in order to hide behind the door, he could hear them far better.
“You think I should try it?”
“That depends entirely on what the trick is, but if you feel it’s safe I’d say go for it.”
The two figures were huddled over some kind of large crumpled cloth, with the larger of the pair obscuring it entirely. Their faces were obscured, one by his own body as he was facing away from Jung, and the other behind the first one’s shoulder, but their attire was very visible. One had a gray sweater covered by a white lab coat and the other wore a formal suit.
…Wait a second.
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Jung listened carefully to the conversation at hand. He had no idea what was happening, nor what he should do about it. He decided to creep closer to get a better look at both them and to pick up the shiny object
Where had Jung seen this figure before?
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Alexis watched in disbelief. That didn’t happen. There’s no way that just happened perfectly. She paused tearing her sleeve in the event something terrible happened, but nothing did, nothing went horribly wrong. The well-dressed man had actually removed the shard of glass without any issue.
Alexis glanced at the wound- The wound! There’s still a wound you need to dress! She resumed tearing the sleeve, this time not caring how uneven it might turn out once she finished. “How did you do that?” Alexis asked miles as the sleeve finally separated from her sweater. “And why didn’t you do that earlier with the door?” Alexis continued as she began wrapping the makeshift bandage around The child’s wound.
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The glittering object was sharp, refracting the light from the hall beyond. It was entirely clear, made of glass, and there were numerous ones around it.
It was a lightbulb. A broken lightbulb, to be specific.
“How did you do that?” The figure in the labcoat suddenly sounded. “And why didn’t you do that earlier with the door?”
“I-Is it good?” Another younger voice asked. Surely you had just heard these voices not long ago…
Basil jolted slightly as Alexis suddenly coming back into his vision reminded him that she existed. The tightness of the bandage felt both comforting and very painful, and the tightening of his toes betrayed his discomfort more than the clawing of his fingers against his chin.
“I-Is it good?” He feebly asked, unsure if he wanted to hear the response. It could, after all, still be horrible and deadly and fatal and murder. You just can’t tell for certain with these things.
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“This was the room we started in. Which leads to the bottom of the stairs. Also seems like the child had something done to him? Odd.” Jung thought to himself. He found this to be most interesting, a door that led directly to the room they had started in.
Jung looks around to do a double take on the remaining doors.
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Eve lets out a loud, metallic screech of frustration, and wishes she had dreamed herself into being 7’. No one would be able to look down on her then. Except giants, and she specifically would not have dreamed of giants.
She turns and stalks several feet over to where Sue is standing, looming over her as she talks to Malaco. She starts to say something and then gets cut off by the levitating fish talking about food again.
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On that floor, there were only two extra doors. Each looked significantly nicer than the ones that had been opened by Sue further down, but nothing could be seen through them, since, you know… Solid door.
There was also a strange black panel on the wall and an inset metal square on the ceiling against the wall. Had the goldfish been here before?
If Eve bothered to look down, she would see a flier on the floor with Japanese kanji in big, ballooned yellow print, underlined by smaller text that read (Golden Chef Sushi! Soup And Seafood) along with an illustration of, presumably, the golden chef himself.
Oh, and a map to the restaurant. It partially sat on the water, and had a dedicated path through simplistically illustrated buildings to reach the front door. There was an island not far away from it, and the rest was too muddied and mucky from the mold to decipher. Clearly the fish didn’t bother to look at it much.
Actually, could he even read?
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“I did, that’s how I opened it. I just made myself intangible rather than the door.” Miles looked down at Basil’s leg as Alexis bandaged it, making sure that he didn’t mess anything up in pulling the glass shard out.
“Are you feeling any better now?” He asked the cowering bat boy.
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