[log] Event: Lavender's Green, Part Two [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: everyone
Location: mysterious, white hallways
Date: Day 193-194
Summary: Find friends. Get lost. Don't look.
Warnings: Potential for gore and psychological horror. Please note any specific warnings in your subject lines!

While confusingly similar, the area is split into a few different sections:

The Core
The hallways here are narrow and twist at a rapid rate. With how dazzlingly white everything is, it's easy to not realize you're coming on a turn and slam right into the walls. There are no rooms here--no one starts here, though they may find it while they wander. At the center is a large, round area, like the center of a spiral. There's a lot of air pressure here.

The Inner Hallways
The largest area, filled with dead ends, gentle slopes and twists, and, occasionally, difficult-to-see drops where a higher hallway intersects with a lower one without a wall to separate them. The whole place tastes vaguely like blood. Most rooms are here--most people start here.

The Outer Hallways
The outer ring of the ball of yarn. It's not as thick with halls and twists as the other two areas, leading to a lot more boring walking in one direction. It's totally possible to circle around the same path multiple times without realizing it, as everything is so similar here. Occasionally, footsteps can be heard just outside the farthest walls. Sometimes, something breathes. There are a few rooms here--some people will start here.


Remember to note what kind of eyes your character has in their top level!

Comments

[advanced]

Well, don't.

[It's a harsh order.]

Focus on the path ahead instead of asking useless questions.

[termineur]

[ No, no. This is the wrong direction. Sylar frowns, and speaks in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. ]

You have a death price, Sherlock. It took your memory. You can't remember things past half a minute.

[advanced]

[He almost says that he doesn't have friends, but the words dry on his tongue as a lie. He does. He has John, Clint, and Natasha. He even has people that he likes who aren't quite friends yet, but three-- three actual people he trusts, that's a lot more than no friends.]

No.

[He starts to move a bit faster, a loping jog.]

I told you, I'm looking for an exit. That's it.

[armoured]

Tony.

[Somehow he manages to sound like an adult chastising a kid.]

I said show me your fingers.

[armoured]

Oh, uh-- right.

[He thought Alfie meant rumblings as to the reason why. He chuckles unconvincingly.]

That's because I don't, it's all part of my alchemy training, I'm not supposed to.

[armoured]

Maybe, this place does seem to be curved in a way that suggests it could be spiral shaped.

[He shrugs, and then pretends not to bristle when the offer of being carried comes.]

I can walk. I just might be slow, that's all.

[blueteamproblems]

I'm not gonna hack up a fucking lung, it's-

[He cuts off, curious to see what Zach's doing, but then just shrugs when it turns out to be nothing.]

Not like it's real either way, so it doesn't really matter.

[termineur]

[ Sylar doesn't like the pressure here, but Al is right. ]

Guess we're sticking to the center, then.

[ He raises an eyebrow slightly, but that's the extent of his argument about being carried. ]

That's not what I asked, but okay. We can move slow. Tell me if you need to rest- don't make me guess. We've apparently got nothing but time here, if these backpacks are any indication.

[mrcreamsicles]

[Not often enough is the problem, but he doesn't push it further than that. He doesn't want to argue more than needed when they're finally sort of getting along in person. It feels fragile enough still, like stepping onto a frozen pond without knowing if the ice is thick enough.]

I wrote a Total Eclipse of the Heart parody rap for Natasha dissing on Clint my first day, and we've been friends ever since. Rap binds people, Bucky. You don't know what you're missing.

[armoured]

[He wheezes out a pained exhale, before pushing himself up to his feet. He sways slightly, and there's already a bruise forming along his spine, but he looks determined.]

No way. We're trying again, this time I'll hold you.

[Because that will work so much better.]

[armoured]

R-Right, you're not kidding.

[He chuckles awkwardly to try and offset the sudden pounding of his heart from where he had nearly fallen. It's a good job he didn't, his bones are not nearly strong enough to stand up to that sort of punishment.]

You're doing the right thing in just making sure that you keep safe, and I'm sure there's more to find downtown. Have you seen the metal wall to the east down there? I'm sure there's something about it that's important, I just haven't found out what yet.

[armoured]

What are you talking about?

[He hates when Ed gets that expression on his face, like he's not going to talk. It happens sometimes after a bad nightmare about that night, he knows that's what Ed dreams of, but he pretends like he doesn't.]

Brother, you have to tell me what you saw. It could be important.

[armoured]

I really hope that's all we have to deal with in here, time.

[Because the reappearance of prophet eyes on himself and other people really doesn't give him a lot of hope that this is going to end without bloodshed.]

Have you run into anyone else here?

[He starts to move off as he speaks, steps wobbly and unsure, clearly unfit for walking whatever he says.]

[howdull]

Don't be ridiculous, who told you that?

[He snorts, that's a poor joke and evidently false.]

[blueteamproblems]

I know. I was just kidding.

[geez why does no one appreciate his comic genius]

[advanced]

[He has no idea what Total Eclipse of the Heart is, and he doesn't care. He's really not in any sort of mood to be joking around, he can feel the danger here like an itch between his shoulderblades.

But he can recognise that Davesprite is making an effort, so he does his best in return.]

I do, that's why I'm missing it.

[mrcreamsicles]

[By contrast, talking nonsense is how Davesprite staves off his nerves. He doesn't trust this place, doesn't like it, doesn't like the faint footsteps beyond the wall he keeps hearing either, but talking covers it up better.]

You've got no taste at all, old man. You're trapped in the dusty annals of history, listening to your own asthmatic cough so long you think that's what music is. Bet you wouldn't even like the stuff I mixed for my friends, and that was all non-vocal.

[advanced]

You're right, I probably wouldn't.

[Oops, that came out a bit more blunt than even Bucky meant it to, but he's actually trying to listen to the footsteps on the other side of the walls.]

I like music that sounds like music, not electronic noises smashed together.

[definingfuture]

[Wow. Tony raises a hand, wriggling his fingers at Al.]

They look like crap. Yeah, I know. I lost my pen. Can we go now?

[termineur]

John told Alfie that, yesterday.

[ Sherlock is laughing, but Sylar is not. This death price is particularly cruel. ]

It's your short-term memory, I'm guessing. Do you remember when we were stuck in separate rooms yesterday?

[mrcreamsicles]

Way to judge before you even know anything.

[Nevermind he's the one who presumed Bucky wouldn't. He considers elbowing him, but stops with his arm halfway there.]

My friends played instruments. John with piano, violin for Rose, Jade on bass guitar. They'd send me recordings and I'd put them together cool ways. My electronic stuff sounded good too, thanks.

[armoured]

You mean you did that to yourself to write something down?

[Oh no, he sounds mad now.]

[definingfuture]

I didn't have a lot of options and I needed to do it. Are we going to get out of here?

[exequies]

[Undertaker watches him, stepping a bit closer with a cock of his head. The mood seems to change completely, as Sherlock goes from smug to unnerved in mere seconds.

He's used to seeing it, though not so typically without effort on his part.]

Oh dear, are you having some memory issues?

[He knows what that possibly means.]

Were you that desperate to get inside the morgue? How impulsive.

[hangfire]

[He doesn't have any time to react before Tony's yanking him up. All he can think is that this is it. There's going to be a knife or glass or metal in his stomach or chest, and waiting for the burn of agonizing pain was only inevitable.

So when it doesn't come at all, he freezes up, breathing erratically against Tony's shoulder as his mind tries to catch up. What the hell? What is he doing?

His hand finds the front of Tony's shirt, fingers digging into the fabric. It's definitely not a return of the embrace, but he's too dizzy to shove the older man back. So there he sits, forehead pressed against Tony's shoulder as he struggles for breath, fatigue making his tension turn to trembling with effort in the other man's arms, trying not to collapse.]

Stop-- please...