Rudy Cooper | Brian Moser (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cold_dry_pieces) wrote2010-10-22 10:12 am
cold_dry_pieces) wrote2010-10-22 10:12 am
Entry tags:
|[ 017 ]|
I.
It’s cold and wet, which is never a good combination. There’s not enough light to see where you are or what’s around you, but the slightest sliver of white is visible in the corner where the sides of this structure don’t quite meet.
Whatever you’re sitting in... it’s thick, and when you’ve let yourself rest in one place for too long it clings to you, thick dark clots that you can’t wipe off because everything else is soaked through, too. It’s hard to know how long you’ve been here; your stomach’s long since stopped growling and you’re starting to feel a bit dizzy, but there’s nowhere to go. The space seems huge but it’s all the same, there’s nothing to be gained by walking around. No way out.
There’s an unpleasant taste in your throat, like you’ve been sucking on pennies.
II.
The walls of this room are white, but it’s clear someone’s tried to make it seem homey. The bright sun streaming through the windows falls on warm, honey-colored wood. A tiny bed, a small round table strewn with crayons and papers, a chair before it. There’s a small dresser against the wall with an empty goldfish bowl on it.
You know, without knowing why, that they’ll be coming for you again, soon. That they’ll ask you questions, and you know you won’t have the right answers for them. You won’t be punished. You’ll be thanked for being so cooperative. And then they’ll bring you back here, and they’ll leave again, and they won’t tell you all the things you need to know.
III.
The headache is dizzying, and you can’t remember how you got here; but you’re gulping air down like it’s a privilege to breathe. Your shoulders ache, arms bound behind you and out of sight, stretched unnaturally around the narrow surface you’re on. It’s hard to say what it is, you can’t turn your head enough to see and you’re too numb from the cold to guess what it is by feel. Your ankles are bound as well, tight enough that there’s little room for movement.
All you can really do is peer into the shadows and wait.
[ooc; open to all! each thread will be treated as a separate instance, unless otherwise arranged. Feel free to enter into any of the scenarios tho the dream might jump between them after, in no particular order <3 all threadsmaywill contain disturbing images/topics. May be slow but will backdate forever. If you’re interested in dream!injury/death/etc (which doesn’t necessarily mean real-world injury but might mean real pain,) please ping me via PM or something~]
It’s cold and wet, which is never a good combination. There’s not enough light to see where you are or what’s around you, but the slightest sliver of white is visible in the corner where the sides of this structure don’t quite meet.
Whatever you’re sitting in... it’s thick, and when you’ve let yourself rest in one place for too long it clings to you, thick dark clots that you can’t wipe off because everything else is soaked through, too. It’s hard to know how long you’ve been here; your stomach’s long since stopped growling and you’re starting to feel a bit dizzy, but there’s nowhere to go. The space seems huge but it’s all the same, there’s nothing to be gained by walking around. No way out.
There’s an unpleasant taste in your throat, like you’ve been sucking on pennies.
II.
The walls of this room are white, but it’s clear someone’s tried to make it seem homey. The bright sun streaming through the windows falls on warm, honey-colored wood. A tiny bed, a small round table strewn with crayons and papers, a chair before it. There’s a small dresser against the wall with an empty goldfish bowl on it.
You know, without knowing why, that they’ll be coming for you again, soon. That they’ll ask you questions, and you know you won’t have the right answers for them. You won’t be punished. You’ll be thanked for being so cooperative. And then they’ll bring you back here, and they’ll leave again, and they won’t tell you all the things you need to know.
III.
The headache is dizzying, and you can’t remember how you got here; but you’re gulping air down like it’s a privilege to breathe. Your shoulders ache, arms bound behind you and out of sight, stretched unnaturally around the narrow surface you’re on. It’s hard to say what it is, you can’t turn your head enough to see and you’re too numb from the cold to guess what it is by feel. Your ankles are bound as well, tight enough that there’s little room for movement.
All you can really do is peer into the shadows and wait.
[ooc; open to all! each thread will be treated as a separate instance, unless otherwise arranged. Feel free to enter into any of the scenarios tho the dream might jump between them after, in no particular order <3 all threads
i.
He looks away, and returns to his first paper, neatly tearing away another strip.
"She said I have to look after him now 'cos she's gone."
He doesn't look sad, not in the least. Sad hasn't gotten him anywhere, so he's given up on feeling.
i.
"Are you afraid?" Fear is an emotion Saya understands on a peripheral level. She experiences fear, of course, when she is in water, but when she's not it's difficult for her to connect the emotion as something she truly understands.
i.
He looks up at her again, with eyes far older than a little boy's eyes ought to be. With what he's seen, what he's lost, there aren't many horrors left to the imagination.
i.
"I like you."
i.