( Idk what to make, ok? )

{ It's another day in the silent asylum. The only times it isn't quiet is when there's someone trying to rank up in the Endzone fighting tournament or an asylum worker is yelling at another tournament fighter. Climber was one of the competitors in the tournament. He's a living cloth mannequin with sewn on climber clothing and people some how don't question it. He had his pickaxe in his hands as he walked around with no thoughts in his mind right now. He seemed.. Lost? }

Climber: " Hmm... "