[log] The Pit [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: Anyone participating in the Pit event.
Location: A room.
Date: Day 330
Summary: You wake up in a room.
Warnings: general warnings; potential for morbid/suicidal thoughts; note specific warnings in subject line, please!

Comments

[sleight_of_fate]

I don't know if that's any better.

[He frowns, but gives the pit another long look, and shakes his head.]

I just know the last time we were all kidnapped to a room was educational in all the wrong sort of ways. Forgive me for being a little dubious about this one, too.

[howdull]

Nothing is educational in the wrong way, even the hardest of experiences can teach us something.

[Data is data, regardless of where it comes from.]

cw: Noisy Black

[sleight_of_fate]

I kind of like to learn things without being mutilatedin disturbingly personal ways, if I can manage it. It's good to be able to take something away from every experience, but your sanity starts to suffer after a while if you wade into too much shit. Human mind can only take so much.

[Voice of experience, yo. But he shrugs.]

[howdull]

Perhaps your personal mind, but I disagree that the human mind, overall, can only take so much. History is littered with examples that prove the contrary.

[Not that he's advocating pushing people to their limits, he just has a much broader view on what those limits actually are.]

cw: Noisy Black

[sleight_of_fate]

Oh, sure. Conversely, you can get used to anything if it's a matter of survival, just look at us here. Just look at the fucking Cells.

[Rhys had been walking around for days with his skull cut apart like scrap carpeting. They'd survived being awake for horrific torture, and the psychological stress that came after. Though even Rhys wonders how the hell they stayed sane through that...or if they did.]

But it tends to be real rough on the psyche to see reality unraveled and bleeding out like an open wound. There's things behind the Wall that you just...that aren't right, and dealing with that level of wrong isn't wired into us.

[howdull]

Perhaps not into you.

[Somehow he manages to look utterly smug and superior even while stark naked at the edge of a giant pit.]

But I'm different, I have the capability to comprehend and extrapolate data that most others find horrific, and that's what I intend to do again.

[sleight_of_fate]

That's...fair. Some people are different that way.

[It's called sociopathy, but he's pretty sure that Sherlock already knows that.

And Rhys is too tired for an argument about it, anyway. When the guy's right, he's right. And what does it say about Rhys himself, how numb he's gotten to certain things in his world?]

I'd at least put some shorts on, though, there's fucking teeth down there, dude.

[howdull]

Even if there are teeth, I doubt a layer of cloth would stop them from ripping into my genitals just as keenly as the rest of my flesh, rendering shorts useless.

[He grins very suddenly and then bends his knees.]

Well, I'm off, then.

[sleight_of_fate]

[Personally, Rhys would feel better with protected junk if he was going to jump in, even if it was an illusion, but Sherlock has already pointed out that he is immune to the horror that other men experience. Go him.

Sherlock readies himself to jump, and there's a moment when Rhys knows he should do something, reach out, grab the bigger man. Tackle him down, force him to the ground rather than letting him go. His brain is racing through all the things he should do, but his muscles just freeze, unmoving.

Sherlock's bigger. He's determined. And Rhys is so tired. If Sherlock really wants to go, can Rhys even stop him?

More importantly, Rhys's body won't even react to his mental commands before Sherlock actually does move. Thought doesn't leave to motion, not the way it should with the level of fatigue he's at, and Rhys only takes a shocked, helpless step forward after Sherlock's gone.]