You must be logged in to view unread posts.
This post has the following content warnings:
Dec 09, 2019 1:09 PM
a felix finds a very sad jean-in-the-box
Permalink

In a room there lives a girl.

 

 

The room is lovely, spacious and airy. It's more of a suite than a room, really, with an attached bathroom and a small fridge and a desk in addition to the bed and couch and desk and bookshelves. There are no windows, but there are paintings on the walls; there's no phone or computer, but there are plenty of books and writing materials.

The door locks from the outside.

The girl is twenty-one, and she is lovely too, slim and athletic and graceful in her movements: lovely, almost flawless -- just so long as you don't look at her face.

At the moment, she is sitting on the side of the bed, looking vaguely at a book, not doing much of anything at all.

Total: 648
Posts Per Page:
Permalink

There is a poof of silver smoke that deposits a young man and a dog in her lap. They both yelp.

A young man, possibly same age as she is and dressed in weird clothes. He wears weird clothes in a style that doesn't belong to any culture from this world. The dog looks vaguely like a siberian husky but too small.

Permalink

The girl freezes and stares.

 

 

She is lovely and slim and golden-haired but her most striking feature, without contest, is the marks on her face -- a long surgical scar on her neck; raised red scarring where the letter M is branded on each cheek; and across her forehead, tattooed in heavy black letters, the word MURDERER.

Permalink

The young man holds the yelping dog. He says something in a foreign language.

Permalink

Stare -- and then she flinches backward, struggles to get out from under him.

Permalink

Yeah, he is going to agreeably remove himself from her lap and say somethig apologetic. Then something inquisitive. He really doesn't look like he came here on purpose.

Permalink

 

 

She clambers backwards on the bed; tugs the blankets up around her, half-hiding her face; peeks out above them and watches him, equal parts wary and panicked and miserable.

Permalink

The young man almost reaches a hand towards, but has to hold the dog. Instead he just says something that sounds soothing.

Permalink

 

 

She lowers the blanket a fraction -- shakes her head, indicating incomprehension -- huddles up again.

Permalink

He tries what sounds like at least half a dozen languages.

Permalink

Blank distressed incomprehension continues.

Permalink

More soothing gibberish. Then he calmly and deliberately reaches inside a pocket for... a bit of clay. Which he tries to shape one-handed.

Permalink

...she watches.

Permalink

Sculpting, sculpting, preventing the dog from eating the thing, sculpting. Eventually there is a vaguely pyramid shaped thing.

He then start saying some brief works plus some gestures and... "Hi. Sorry for disturbing you."

Permalink

Permalink

 

"...Someone shot me a bolt of energy and that was how I got here."

Permalink

Permalink

"I didn't mean to disturb you..."

Permalink

 

 

 

...headshake.

Permalink

 

"I am not going to hurt you. I am sorry for invading your room. Uh... do you need help?"

Permalink

Headshake headshake.

Permalink

 

Headshake.

Permalink

"Are you sure? Uh, you probably don't want a stranger in your room. Sorry. Do you have a way of showing me where we are?"

Permalink

She looks at him for some time, without giving any sign of responding.

Finally, though, she lets go of the blanket, gets off the bed and walks carefully over to the desk, her head ducked and pressed into one shoulder like she's trying to hide. She finds a pad of paper and a pencil, and comes back to sit on the edge of the bed a careful distance away from him.

Once there, she starts drawing. She's very neat and precise about it -- not artistic, not really, it's more like she's tracing something, except there's nothing actually there to trace.

The first sheet of paper gets a map of the world, continents and oceans, laid out with precise accuracy. She marks a location with a star and then hands that page to him, starts on the second: a small circle, shaded to indicate a sphere, to which she adds miniature outlines of the continents; followed by a succession of other spheres, on lightly indicated elliptical tracks around a large central sphere.

That completed, she tears it off and hands it to him as well, and begins on a third page: this one is a roadmap, once again with one building indicated by a star.

Permalink

The newcomer analyzes this confusedly. "...I don't recognize any of this. I have memory problems, but this doesn't feel like the prime material plane as I know it."

Total: 648
Posts Per Page: