It's been several minutes since the blackout began, and Carlos has finally made his way back to the banquet hall. From here, he can ask someone where the generators are. They must have a backup source of power, and although Carlos is no electrician, perhaps he can science it back into working order.
But as he steps inside, shining his flashlight around at the assembled, panicky crowd, over the low muttering and frightened whispers, Carlos hears a voice. More specifically, a Voice.
That's Cecil, he thinks, eyes widening. His pulse picks up, but that's just because he's relieved to hear a familiar voice in an unfamiliar place, and also because dealing with Cecil is always a headache and a half. He must have arrived the same way I did -- whatever that was, I don't know. But I have to find him. He'll probably have answers.
Carlos begins to make his way toward the crowd, muttering -- "Excuse me, sorry, could you let me through please, thank you" -- and shining his flashlight in people's faces as he searches. Maybe Cecil will know more about how they got here, and why.
no subject
But as he steps inside, shining his flashlight around at the assembled, panicky crowd, over the low muttering and frightened whispers, Carlos hears a voice. More specifically, a Voice.
That's Cecil, he thinks, eyes widening. His pulse picks up, but that's just because he's relieved to hear a familiar voice in an unfamiliar place, and also because dealing with Cecil is always a headache and a half. He must have arrived the same way I did -- whatever that was, I don't know. But I have to find him. He'll probably have answers.
Carlos begins to make his way toward the crowd, muttering -- "Excuse me, sorry, could you let me through please, thank you" -- and shining his flashlight in people's faces as he searches. Maybe Cecil will know more about how they got here, and why.