Joe's eyes widened when Salem said he had a dickbutt on his neck. However, he smiled and stuck his tongue out, because he theorized that his mark looked pretty fucking radical. He brushed his fingers against his neck experimentally. It felt like nothing was there, which was pretty interesting considering it felt like it had been branded into his skin with an iron. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around, and then paid attention to Solomon when he spoke. When Solomon mentioned relaxation, he realized how tired he was. They had been here way too long for anything new.<br/><br/>"Uh, yeah, we should stay put," said Joe, releasing a huge, monstrous yawn. He walked over to one of the bookcases and browsed the selection. He recognized absolutely nothing there, so he decided that maybe that was not the best course of action to burn an hour. He watched Aamu, who said nothing. When she realized she was being watched, she turned abruptly and slithered into the ground, disappearing from sight. Joe frowned.<br/><br/>As the time passed, Joe was near falling asleep. When it seemed like he would doze off, he noticed from the corner of the large room the same eerie blackness that had taken them into this world. He prodded Salem and pointed to the direction where the shadows were forming. Looking around for Solomon, Joe asked, "Does that black stuff work as a reverse passage way?"