[Clyde stops, momentarily torn, then gestures Adele towards a nearby room, ducking into it and shutting the door once they're inside. Oh geez, if there's two of those projections they'd better not allow themselves to be surrounded. Better to deal with them one at a time, or at least crowd them into a narrow space where they'll be easier to pick off.
The room in question is narrow enough--a bathroom packed with a few stalls and some outdated sinks, white porcelain with separate taps for hot and cold. A small, grimy window casts everything in a faint, grayish hue, and it's more by the warm glow of the flashlight that he can make out his reflection in the cracked mirror, features tense and gaunt.
He doesn't dare say anything, just stands to the right of Adele, keeping her between him and the door, ears pricked.]
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The room in question is narrow enough--a bathroom packed with a few stalls and some outdated sinks, white porcelain with separate taps for hot and cold. A small, grimy window casts everything in a faint, grayish hue, and it's more by the warm glow of the flashlight that he can make out his reflection in the cracked mirror, features tense and gaunt.
He doesn't dare say anything, just stands to the right of Adele, keeping her between him and the door, ears pricked.]