"Well, hey, me neither. Might be able to tell you what century it's from, but that's about it."

He moves in slow revolution, sweeping his gaze around the room - props to Johnny, this is much nicer than where either of them started - until he finds what he's looking for.

"Gotta door, here." He cocks his head. "Two doors, actually."

Neither of them look like they belong in the room they're in. The rest of it is rather pleasant, carpeting and plant life and the whole nine yards, but these doors are heavy, firmly set steel, looking more like airtight hatches on a submarine.

"Well, it looks like we're underwater, so they might just lead...out." He swings a hand vaguely upward, feeling a little sick at the idea. "But unless you can find any other way out of this place..."

He doesn't complete the thought.