Daichi: The solution to writing scenes where the characters' thoughts are… complicated… is simple. Just use the point of view of another character in the scene. It loses some of the impact, but in this case, it's a small price to pay.

Verity: We own certain characters. That is all.

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Trixie could tell that something wasn't right. Not with the situation- there would never be anything right about this situation- but with the others in it. Or, rather, in their interactions, or complete lack thereof.

It was clear from the way she'd introduced him that Ib and Garry had once been close. Even easier to see that they both still wanted to be. And while things weren't that simple… generally speaking, people didn't declare implicit trust before proceeding to not talk to the person, or even make eye contact.

It was true that things in the Gallery were different, but she couldn't see that as being something that changed. Trust just didn't work that way.

"So, how did you two meet?" She asked. It had to be an interesting story, how a young girl and a painting could grow to be good friends, to the point of apparently missing each other, and Trixie wanted to know.

They both flinched. Right, touchy subject. She'd keep that in mind.

"Sorry, you don't have to answer if you don't want to… it's just-"

"N-no, it's fine," Ib stated. Trixie was half-certain she was lying, of course, but this probably wasn't the place for an argument. "It's not that exciting, really… we just- well, I was wandering along, found him in the middle of… of a disagreement with the Lady in Blue, I sided with him, and we somehow decided we liked each other."

That did sound about right. Most likely the truth, and given the immediate reaction, probably not worth prying into any further. Just really, really tempting.

No. No, she was going to at least try and exercise self-control on this one. It would not do for her to alienate her one hope of survival.

Would be nice to deal with less silence, though.

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The world was starting to feel familiar. Lavender wasn't sure how, or why. But something in the air had shifted, as though her thoughts had been shrouded in fog before and the key to lifting it entirely was just beyond her reach.

Not that this was a good thing. With all the traps she had inadvertently sprung, it became increasingly clear that this place was out to get her, and likely everyone else. If there was something she should realize about the Gallery, she was certain that she did not want to know.

It would have been easier, perhaps, if the place had a map. But, no, that would be helpful, wouldn't it? A place that seemed specifically designed to drive others insane… no wonder everything here was hostile.

"You know, it wouldn't surprise me if we were going the wrong way all this time," Jade pointed out to their teacher. "Are you sure this is a good path?"

"Do either of you have any better ideas?" The girls fell silent. "I thought so. We haven't seen anything in a while beyond normal traps, so we should be fine if we just keep moving."

Lavender wanted to point out the problems with that logic, except that the only real option was to keep trying and find a way out. Only one person that she knew of had escaped the Gallery, and she wasn't there at the moment.

It would have been easier, perhaps, if she couldn't hear whispering sounds from the walls, that nobody else seemed to react to. But they didn't seem to be saying anything in particular, so they were probably just her imagination.

And if she was imagining them, she didn't have to pay any attention… right?

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"This doll will guide you," Puppet told Miguel, handing one of the creepy-cute blue things to him. Miguel took the doll and it crawled up his arm to sit on his shoulder. "They like me, but keep her away from Garry. He doesn't like them very much, Regrets was the same back when she was stable. Ib doesn't have much reason to care for them, of course, and Orange… if she has to stick around, show her to Orange, she's likely to react best."

"I've got it." Honestly, he didn't know why Puppet worried so much. He certainly wasn't like that.

"Good. And don't tell them about this office, I'm pretty sure only the others not knowing about my research is what's keeping it going. The walls have ears, you know. Sometimes literally, be careful about that."

Right. That was why. This place was insane, and Miguel was glad that he'd soon be near someone who could get them out of there.

"Okay, I will. Thanks. I guess I'll be going, now."

It was almost comical just how quickly he was shoved out the door, which closed softly behind him and was locked with an even softer click.

He even felt that, in a better world, he could possibly have actually found it funny.

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Ib was certain, at this point, that the only thing keeping today away from the spot of worst day of her life was the fact that there were still no confirmed deaths. At least not of anyone she cared about. It was fairly easy to see that there had been deaths in the Gallery, if not that recently.

Callous? Maybe a little. But she was the first to admit that maybe there was a little something wrong with her, even if it was no longer as bad as outright hallucinations.

Well, she was pretty sure she wasn't hallucinating. She wasn't going to outright dismiss the possibility until everything was over and done with, whenever that happened… however that happened.

"Are you sure they're this way?" Miguel's voice. Beside her, Trixie drew herself up. Ib stopped her with a hand before she could say anything.

"Don't. Do you want every artwork in the area coming down on us?" She hissed.

"But there's nothing here!"

"You never know! Anything and anyone could be out to get us here!"

"What about me?" Garry asked, jokingly.

"Of course not. You can't kill me without the past six years being completely wasted, and you know I wouldn't forgive you if you did anything to my classmates…. well, most of them." Ib decided to stop talking before she started entertaining the idea of human sacrifices.

She found her fingers were now clutching the lighter in her pocket just as much as her rose. Probably not a good sign, but she'd never dealt with good signs.

There was the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from the direction they were continuing in, before Miguel stumbled out of the shadows, his rose in hand and fully pristine. Which was a sign of hope for a vase, but for all she knew, it could have been good for just one use. Knowing her luck, it probably was.

"There you are!" The boy grinned, showing no reaction to the fact that the trio had someone in it that he'd never talked to. "I was starting to worry you'd forgot about me!"

"You're the one that wandered off," Trixie pointed out. Ib wanted to say something herself, but all of her resolve seemed to have slipped away.

That was normal, though.

"Don't worry, it won't happen again, promise!" And there. Something she could respond to.

"Don't make promises that you can't keep. I hate it when people do that." She didn't have to look at Garry to notice him flinch.

If she were stronger, more sure of herself, just a little bit less scared, she would have told him that she forgave him a long time ago. Six- almost seven, really, her birthday was in just under two months- years was plenty, for someone who was easily the best friend she'd ever had.

But there were others there, and she'd never been much for words in the first place. So it had to go unsaid, and if the hand in her pocket gripped the lighter just that much harder, nobody would ever notice.

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Daichi: Ah, the perils of the main character being an introvert. On the bright side, she's started to figure out how to move on! That's good, right?

Verity: It's happening at the worst possible time, of course.

Daichi: When else would it happen?

Verity: ...You scare me.