The Signless (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
69problems) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-04-13 06:45 pm
69problems) wrote in thearena2013-04-13 06:45 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who| The Signless and YOU!
What| The Signless is forced into exploring by the fireworks, and comes across some of his fellow players.
Where| Adventureland
When| Just after the Fireworks
Warnings/Notes| None that I can think of! Will add if any come up. I'm starting in prose, but I'm comfortable with either prose or actionspam and will write to match you!
The Signless pressed his back against the huge fake tree, trying to calm his thundering bloodpusher. The last of the flashes from the fireworks had died off a few minutes before but that panic hadn't yet. There was something in him that simply didn't take well to bright projectiles from the sky, something that remembered a hail of meteors from a past life and endless flaming arrows from the current one. He closed his yellow and red eyes, breathed in, breathed out. He would be fine. They'd forced him to move when he'd had every intention of sitting right where they'd dropped him, but even if they could make him move they couldn't make him fight.
He sank down into a sitting position against the base of the tree and began to tug off the leather boots they'd forced him into. After spending his whole life walking over all sorts of uncomfortable terrain with bare feet they frankly weren't necessary, and he'd found as he ran from the fireworks that they'd been more of a hindrance than a help. He couldn't grip, couldn't really feel the ground under him. At least they'd dressed him in black, even if it didn't have the usual defiant red ornamentation he liked. In the current darkness, and with his gray skin, he blended in fairly well against everything else.
Except for the fact that, what with wrestling with the damn boots, he was moving against an otherwise deadly still backdrop.
What| The Signless is forced into exploring by the fireworks, and comes across some of his fellow players.
Where| Adventureland
When| Just after the Fireworks
Warnings/Notes| None that I can think of! Will add if any come up. I'm starting in prose, but I'm comfortable with either prose or actionspam and will write to match you!
The Signless pressed his back against the huge fake tree, trying to calm his thundering bloodpusher. The last of the flashes from the fireworks had died off a few minutes before but that panic hadn't yet. There was something in him that simply didn't take well to bright projectiles from the sky, something that remembered a hail of meteors from a past life and endless flaming arrows from the current one. He closed his yellow and red eyes, breathed in, breathed out. He would be fine. They'd forced him to move when he'd had every intention of sitting right where they'd dropped him, but even if they could make him move they couldn't make him fight.
He sank down into a sitting position against the base of the tree and began to tug off the leather boots they'd forced him into. After spending his whole life walking over all sorts of uncomfortable terrain with bare feet they frankly weren't necessary, and he'd found as he ran from the fireworks that they'd been more of a hindrance than a help. He couldn't grip, couldn't really feel the ground under him. At least they'd dressed him in black, even if it didn't have the usual defiant red ornamentation he liked. In the current darkness, and with his gray skin, he blended in fairly well against everything else.
Except for the fact that, what with wrestling with the damn boots, he was moving against an otherwise deadly still backdrop.
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"I believe in treating others as I would want to be treated. I trust that you won't stab me, so I should hope that you trust me not to harm you in return. I'd have nothing to gain by killing you but a guilty conscience that I neither want or need."
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And he trusted her not to stab him, part of her wanted to just to prove him wrong. But the promise of sleep was more tempting. She could always stab him tomorrow. "Okay, but you be sleeping first, and I will be waking you up in two hours."
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"Alright. If anything happens, wake me up sooner." And preferably not with a knife in the eye.
This, at least, was familiar. He settled back against the tree, pulling his cloak a little more closely around him (thank goodness the outfit they'd given him had one).
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Two hours later she shook his arm. "You do be waking up now."
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"Thank you."
He pushed himself to his feet, ran a hand through his hair (which had absolutely no effect except getting it out of his eyes, given it was already awfully messy).
"Your turn."
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He gently set his hand on Pruna's shoulder and shook.
"It's morning. Wake up."
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It had, after all, been about six AM when she'd handed watch over to him. Unless hours for her species were a different length of time, he suddenly realized, and felt rather foolish. Aliens. Weird.
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