Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start

Andrew Edgeworth

What need does a prison have of a warehouse? Andrew had had enough of the sight of them for a lifetime, but it was one of the…very few areas open to the prisoners at the moment. At minimum, a cursory investigation was necessary.

Unsurprisingly, it held a large amount of miscellaneous items. What did surprise Andrew somewhat was the inclusion of entertainment. Somehow in the unwieldy straitjacket, he kneeled down to pick up a random analog game. His expression soured as he read the cheesy description printed on the back. How bittersweet.

Sylas Grey

Whoa! Would you look at that?! It's a warehouse! Sylas was out of his element with many things in this strange new world, but the humble warehouse was not one of them. Warehouses were magical places that contained lots of things that made Sylas' life better. Like construction supplies, or wood, or perhaps some dried meat if you were lucky enough. This one seemed pretty low on dried meat probabilities, but it DID have a strange man and a board game, so that was even in Sylas' eyes.

"Oh, hey! G'day! G'day there! What's that you got? A board game? Sick! I didn't know they had those in weird dream prison! Were y'thinkin' of playin'?"

He hopes it's Monopolyyyyyyyyyyy

Andrew Edgeworth

"I wouldn't say it's a good day, but I guess it doesn't hurt to have a more opinion variety around." Andrew turned on his heels to scrutinize the owner of the new voice. Another prisoner, naturally. He sighed and lightly placed the game - yes, Monopoly - back where he took it from.

"Not particularly, feel free to take it yourself."

He stood back up to cross his arms. "Patterns tend to come in threes, so let me take a guess; no knowledge of how you got here, but a decent idea of why?

Sylas Grey

Sylas wombles over to inspect the board himself. Wow, it's classic Monopoly! And not even one of the infinite variations of such! What a find.

"Huh, what's that? No knowledge of… Ohhh. Haha, god no, mate! I got no dang clue why I'm here or what I'm doin' or even how I got here. D'you think someone knocked me out and put me on a boat or somethin'? A plane? I feel like a boat is more likely 'cause I don't have a passport. I never even been on a plane. Been on a boat though, for fishin'."

Andrew Edgeworth

How odd. This man could easily be lying with the flimsy expectation of being released, so Andrew side-eyes him. If nothing else, the 'wombling' wasn't an act.

"Then you'd be the first I've met to think so. Half, anyway; everyone else so far seems to have a reason to be in jail, but no memory of arrest."

Him telling the truth would be far more complicated; genuinely a non-criminal, does not perceive his crime as illegal, or doesn't remember. "Myself included."

Sylas Grey

The wombling is no act! Sylas has popped the box open and is inspecting the playing pieces with great interest.

“I really don’t remember anythin’ that you could call a crime. Uh, do you? Did you do, uh… well, y’look fancy and smart, so… some sort of Clever Trevor crime?”

Andrew Edgeworth

"Is that so…?" Andrew speaks slowly and carefully, looking at Sylas over the rim of his glasses. "In any other situation, I would appreciate the compliment. If only it were so whimsical."

"So what do you remember, exactly?"

Sylas Grey

"Errrrr… I was drinkin' milk out of the fridge."

Sylas scratches the back of his head. "Earlier in the day I'd also eaten, like, a can of spaghetti outta the tin? Scrolled Instagram a bit? Carved a wombat? …shit, what else did I do…? Oh, I saw a big-ass lizard in the back yard. I don't think any of that is illegal. Is it?… Seriously, is it, I'm gettin' kinda worried right now,"

Andrew Edgeworth

Not what he meant, but certainly an enlightening answer. This strange man was quickly becoming the most empty-headed person Andrew has met in his entire life so far, but it did provide a fifth possibility that he just…didn't know he committed a crime; how harrowing. "I'm no lawyer, but I can assure you that idly admiring the wildlife has not become a crime yet."

It was too soon to tell, so Andrew will just humor him and his questionable diet for now.

"I suppose that makes sense. 'Carved a wombat'…do you do woodwork as a profession or a hobby?"

Sylas Grey

"Oh, good." Sylas thinks this guy seems quite intelligent (By Sylas standards), so his answer relieves him. Hooray!

"Carpenter by trade. Although, like, I work on houses and furniture and stuff. Carvin' little guys is just for funsies. And it makes people happy. Well, most people happy, heh." He rubs the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.

"So, uh, what's your deal then? Did you do a tax evasion? Two tax evasions? Wait did I even ask for yer name"

Andrew Edgeworth

Andrew couldn't help feeling a little relieved that this person wasn't so airheaded as to be braindead. "Well, no one can fault you for taking joy in honest work - even if it doesn't please everyone, apparently."

"I'd have much less to worry about if my 'deal' was just two tax evasions." It'd be useless to hide his name with it written clearly on a name tag for anyone to read, but even the few times he's said it already have been uncomfortable. "You did not until now. Just call me Andrew; yours?"

Sylas Grey

"I've always been good with my hands! Not so good with like, brain stuff. Thinkin'. All that."

He pauses, then extends a hand to shake. A very calloused hand. Sylas really wasn't joking when he said he was good with his hands, because it kind of seems like he's been doing hands-on work every day of his life with this level of skin quality. He has also presumably never seen moisturizing cream before.

"Sylas Grey. Pleasure to meet ya, Andrew. Can I call you Andy?"

Andrew Edgeworth

"…much obliged." Andrew was at least considerate enough to only say 'I can tell' in his head when he briefly takes Sylas's hand. His own hands weren't exactly manicured either, but the flash of the watch on his wrist did much more to differentiate the two men's previous stations in life.

When on Earth was the last time somebody gave him a nickname? If memory served right…when he was a child. The next person to do so after so long being Sylas was rather funny, actually. He waved a hand dismissively. "I don't control you, do whatever you like." Then Andrew thought about it a bit longer.

"In your head, not out loud, Sylas."

Sylas Grey

He tilts his head like a confused dog.

"Wait, I can call you Andy in my head but not out loud, or-?"

Andrew Edgeworth

Andrew sighs. "Correct, it feels rather odd being called a nickname by someone so much younger than you."

Sylas Grey

"Aw, you look like a regular spring chicken to me, mate!"

This is meant to be a compliment.

Andrew Edgeworth

"…"

Andrew just stares at him. For a while.

"And how old are you, exactly?" If Sylas was young, it would be much more confusing. Andrew can't imagine anyone under 30 using the phrase "regular spring chicken."

Sylas Grey

"I'm 25!" He gives him a big grin.

"How old are you? 30?"

Andrew Edgeworth

"…I see." Carpentry tends to have a lot of older folks, maybe he picked up the oddly old-fashioned mannerisms there? The alternative was that Sylas was just weird, which, fair enough. "Are you used to being around older people?"

If it were anyone but Sylas who said it, Andrew might have been flattered to be perceived as younger than he actually was. "Quite a bit off; 37."

Sylas Grey

"Hmm? Well, I'm the youngest of five, if that's what y'mean? I haven't been doing it for like, yonks, I finished my internship a couple years ago."

And- a gasp!

"Whoa!!! 37??? Damn, that's crazy! Good work on, uhhh, bein' 37?" He smiles and gives a thumbs up. Why is he like this