💾 Archived View for zaibatsu.circumlunar.space › ~trunnion › d24 › 026.md captured on 2024-02-05 at 11:53:07.
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--- title: Room Twenty-Six date: 240126 category: dungeon24 --- Behind a loose rock in the wall of this foul latrine, several pages of college-ruled loose-leaf paper detail a series of interactions with the denizens. In a cursive script: They. They call themselves "They." Or at least that's what it sounds like. They respond to it, curious if not cautious. At least they lower the knives. The ones I met (no names?) seemed concerned and pointed me to a column of blackness and gestured that I should get in. No thanks. I gave them some jerky and they chowed down. Weird mouths under the robes but not as scary as I thought. They all look afraid. They all look like they've been crying. Poor guys. -- Went to see the birds again, they seemed happy about it. Had less trail mix to share this time, less of everything really. Eventually I need to go back. Or down. Hmm. -- My They friends came to see me on the roof. Guess I wasn't as sneaky as I thought. Brought some mushrooms and cheese. Trying to not think too hard about the cheese. Eating some- thing different almost made me cry. We can't really talk but they clearly want me to get out of here, and not Upward. I gesture that way and they start panicking and waving the kni- ves around, shaking their notebooks in my face and chirping. Fine, fine, I say. I know where they want me to go, but damn. I draw a train in the dust, like the broken-down ones across the compound, but they don't get it. The big one gives me a knife. It's heavy and sharp. I give them my last stick of gum. -- They're looking for me. Time to go. Feed the birds for me if you can. A small empty zip-loc bag appears to have been torn apart by mice, rats or somesuch small vermin.