unfortunately, when damien hears the voice he immediately wrenches away from the daisy chain. which is a very painful thing to do with his shoulder. and then he makes it worse, turning back around and slamming his hands up against where the door used to be.
but it's just a wall, now.
...
so... i guess it's time to go through that last door. ]
[Yasusada jerks, too--but Vax's grip is firm, and Damien's too late anyway, and... and.
He takes a shuddering breath, dragging air back into his lungs. It should feel better. It hurts worse.
The tigers help as much as they don't; they remind him of Nagasone, and normally, that's warmth and reassurance. But in his head, he can't help seeing those broken pieces, over and over.
Illusion...? Was it...?
He'll believe it was. He has to. He doesn't want to be alone again.
He doesn't want to go through this door, either--but the only way out of the smoke is through the flames. So onward they go.]
[At least he hopes the others would save him if it was needed.
He's really doing better than the others here, probably because he had more time outside of that hell room to calm the fuck down. So while he's not good with bolstering confidence, he still does try to say something.]
[the third door opens. and you head through. behind you, the amber shivers, and dissipates.
it is... dark, here. endlessly. like the white space, there are no walls. there is no floor. just inky, black darkness, the absence of color, and the sound of a soft, ticking clock. SOMETHINGS litter the area, tall creatures that expel darkness to the ground, with agonizing moans. and there are just doors, everywhere, in the distance, sketchy and outlined in white.
thousands of them, but only a specific one calls to you. you remember there is something bad behind the door that speaks your name in whispers. maybe you shouldn't. or... maybe you should?
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saturations) wrote2022-02-21 11:38 am
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unfortunately, when damien hears the voice he immediately wrenches away from the daisy chain. which is a very painful thing to do with his shoulder. and then he makes it worse, turning back around and slamming his hands up against where the door used to be.
but it's just a wall, now.
...
so... i guess it's time to go through that last door. ]
no subject
He takes a shuddering breath, dragging air back into his lungs. It should feel better. It hurts worse.
The tigers help as much as they don't; they remind him of Nagasone, and normally, that's warmth and reassurance. But in his head, he can't help seeing those broken pieces, over and over.
Illusion...? Was it...?
He'll believe it was. He has to. He doesn't want to be alone again.
He doesn't want to go through this door, either--but the only way out of the smoke is through the flames. So onward they go.]
no subject
[At least he hopes the others would save him if it was needed.
He's really doing better than the others here, probably because he had more time outside of that hell room to calm the fuck down. So while he's not good with bolstering confidence, he still does try to say something.]
We can make it, there's only one more.
[As long as they stay together.
...and hold hands, daisy chain time.]
no subject
it is... dark, here. endlessly. like the white space, there are no walls. there is no floor. just inky, black darkness, the absence of color, and the sound of a soft, ticking clock. SOMETHINGS litter the area, tall creatures that expel darkness to the ground, with agonizing moans. and there are just doors, everywhere, in the distance, sketchy and outlined in white.
thousands of them, but only a specific one calls to you. you remember there is something bad behind the door that speaks your name in whispers. maybe you shouldn't. or... maybe you should?
do you persist?]