~INQUISITORE3 COMFORT~

~who are you?

It's dark. A little miserable in a way, but strangely comforting.

You're inside of wherever he's been living since the 9th of October. It seems like he's gotten used to his new living space.

The room had a large dome ceiling covered in fake vines and fairy lights. A rack of lightsabers sat in a corner, and a large bed with a dozen different blankets sat parallel to it. He had a TV sitting across from the bed, with an entire bin of COD games and several others as well. A photo gallery was also on the wall, a collection of framed and unframed photos varying from his friends to him to milestones he hit to wish lists and little quotes. He had a desk with drawing supplies on it, and it was surrounded by comics and books. Cups of tea, along with plenty of plants, scattered the room. 

"...hello?" 

You turn around to see him. Inquisitore. He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but his ghost mask stays on his face.

"Hello!" You reply, smiling cheekily.

"In the nicest way possible..." he holds his fingers, looking for words. "how the actual fuck did you get in here?"

"I dunno."

"You must know."

"I don't."

"Take a guess, then."

"Maybe I'm high."

"You can't be the one who is high if I'm seeing it too."

"Then you're high."

"But then what are you seeing?"

"...I dunno, but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be tasting colors." You joke, trying to see if he had a good side right now.

He did. 

"You're kinda weird," he chuckled. "But I like that. Especially since it's... cheering me up."

You attempt to stop him from thinking about that. "Hey, uh... Did you get to decorate this?" You gesture to the room, feeling a bit stupid from your terrible attempt of a conversation change.

"Yeah, a lot of it was stuff I had in my life." He walks over to a mug that sat on his desk, picking it up and swirling the spoon that sat inside of it against the liquid inside. "Seriously, though, how'd you get in here?"

"Listen, I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm glad I get to speak with you."

"Oh god, please don't tell me you're one of those simps-"

"Nah, I'm worse. I'm a Graves x Ghost shipper."

"You're a handful..." Inquisitore sets the mug down again, watching as the tea continues to swirl after he stopped mixing it. "So... you're gonna have to get home eventually, right?"

You shrug. "Yeah. I mean, it's kinda inevitable. Maybe I'll just get yeeted out of whatever place we're in and dumped back onto Earth."

"...do they miss me?" His question was abrupt, clearly something he had been wanting to ask but didn't.

You know what he means immediately. "Everybody does."

He stares into the mug for a minute before nodding. "Yeah... thought so... saw so..."

He clears his throat. "You want a tour of my little abode?"

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