[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

[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.

[advanced]

Mixing together music isn't rap.

[His replies are a little terse, but at least he's trying.]

You were talking about rap before, specifically.

[mrcreamsicles]

I said the non-vocal stuff besides the rap. I can put verse to it if I want, but the music itself is its own thing. I've got a varied skill set, Bucky.

[And it is all very important right now, clearly.]

[advanced]

[He's about to reply when he turns a corner and finds himself at a dead end.

This keeps happening and it only heightens his feeling of being trapped, of people watching him and laughing, waiting to wear him down so that they can wipe him. He slams his fist into the wall without warning, hard enough to leave a smear of blood behind, before he whirls around and stalks back the direction they came.

He doesn't say anything, just expects Davesprite to keep up.]

[mrcreamsicles]

[The dead end would maybe be annoying if he weren't resigned to being stuck here until something more happens. One more piece of pointless emptiness to these halls, a reason to try something else, more nonsense eating up whatever amount of time it is they're going to be here. But that he could brush off.]

[Instead he gets the sudden, violent movement, the sound of hard impact, the sight of blood, and all the paranoia he'd been staving off with babble and nonsense sweeps over his as a wave.]

No.

[He says it as Bucky turns, a terse bark; he's gone all tense again the way he did the first time they met, the second time they met, and he floats back in a rush to get a wider berth of space between them.]

If you're going to do that, no. You stay there, give me a head start, I take the first turn I can and you take the other way. I'll drop a feather on the path I take and you don't follow me. Okay?

[advanced]

[His hand is still shaking and his expression is closed off when he's pulled up short by Davesprite's demand. He should apologise, he should find a way to make this right, but the paranoia and fear are too strong to ignore in his own head.

So he just nods an affirmative and stands still, rigid.]

Thirty seconds.

[He doesn't think he can make himself stay still longer than that.]

[mrcreamsicles]

[Thirty seconds? That's barely anything. It sounds almost threatening after the switch his mind has flipped, but that turns out to be all the motivation he needs to haul ass. He floats backwards with fingers held to the wall to trace his path, putting what speed he can into it, and doesn't even turn to face forward until he's put a solid gap between them. And where the fuck is the turn? He ends up pulling a feather from his ruff despite the sting of it, too impatient (too lacking in time) to comb through for a loose one.]

[Even after he finds the split in the path, he finds himself checking over his shoulder, ears straining, for any sign he's being followed.]