Day 66: Game Room (Fourth Shift)

[knightspirit]

The game room, huh... In normal, everyday life, it wouldn't have sounded too terrible, but as things were, it seemed like more of an annoyance. Games were fine, but priorities.... On the other hand, Kyousuke seemed to have hit a block in figuring out the clues to the the illness, and just thinking without getting anywhere wasn't very productive, either. At this point, it may have been best to push it aside and come back to it fresh. He had his reservations about it, especially since the end of the day was rapidly approaching, but... Frustration wasn't going to get him any closer.

He poked around what games were there with resignation, still half wondering what he was even doing and trying not feel guilty for needing a break. After a while he came across an electronic device marked "Game Boy Color" and picked it up out of curiosity. He'd heard of those before... If he was right, this thing was older than he was, by quite a bit. Flicking it on confirmed his suspicions; the sound and graphics from it spoke for themselves.

Shrugging, he took it a random seat, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he sat down. He guessed it wouldn't kill him to mess around with this thing for a little while.

[Lloyd!]

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[stop_the_rain]

Murphy pulled back now, needing to compose himself. He was starting to feel...overwhelmed, he guessed. He wasn't sure. But he drew back gently from Gabe, his eyes bright but at least no longer actively leaking. He wiped at them with the back of his hand and shook his head.

Second chances.

"Second chances usually don't happen in a supernatural hellhole you're not likely to survive," he pointed out, bluntly. "It's like the worst of both worlds. Prison and scary voodoo shit that wants me dead."

If that wasn't a pretty obvious sign from God, Murphy didn't know what was. But there was less conviction than there normally was, when he swore up and down that the good Lord had abandoned him.

"Uh, sorry for the language."

[impudentsongbird]

Gabriel let Murphy draw away, squeezing the man's hands in final reassurance before letting them go and folding his own in his lap. At that, the Archangel couldn't help but laugh. Hadn't his Master given Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere their second chance on the cusp of disaster? "You'd be surprised," he said with a smile, "where second chances can arise. Sometimes the best ones are in supernatural hellholes you're not likely to survive."

Where better to prove a man's mettle than in the face of adversity? There was a reason the wagers had usually taken the same basic tact. People who were blessed with a rich life didn't need second chances. They didn't need to be dressed down, to prove their worth to themselves and to Lucifer. They didn't need the opportunity such places offered.

"Oh, I don't mind," Gabe said with a shrug and another laugh. "There's cause; I wouldn't say it's an inaccurate description of this place."