like Alice through the Looking Glass, she used to know who she was
Characters: Err, everyone and their goat. (see tags)
Rating: PG-13 (in case one of our foul-mouthed coppers decides to join...)
Time Period: Late afternoon on the day after arrival
Location: The Entrance to the Castle
Relative Date: Modern
Status: FINISHED (THANKS GUYS!)
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Gwen stood at the castle entrance.
She didn't like this place. Besides, apparently, being held there against her will, and of course the murdered man, the dead unicorn, and the million other things that made this place strange... The balance of normality mixed with the abnormal never sat well in her gut. She spent two years trying to keep the extraordinary as separate from the ordinary as she could. It was her only way of surviving it. And now, she was forced to make them fit together.
The castle seemed too comfortable in its surroundings, as if it belonged buried in the sweeping green countryside. She didn't much care for the country anymore - hadn't since the Brecon Beacons incident - and she yearned for the comfortable sounds of city life. Cars whizzing by, people chatting in the streets, bars and pubs keeping towns alive at witching hours. The Castle, for all of its seemingly modern amenities, lacked anything that really made it feel comfortable. She couldn't even hear birds singing.
Gwen heaved a sigh and sat down on the steps. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting a chill that seemed to seep to her bones. She hated feeling alone.
Hoping someone - anyone - would meet her there, she waited.
Rating: PG-13 (in case one of our foul-mouthed coppers decides to join...)
Time Period: Late afternoon on the day after arrival
Location: The Entrance to the Castle
Relative Date: Modern
Status: FINISHED (THANKS GUYS!)
-
Gwen stood at the castle entrance.
She didn't like this place. Besides, apparently, being held there against her will, and of course the murdered man, the dead unicorn, and the million other things that made this place strange... The balance of normality mixed with the abnormal never sat well in her gut. She spent two years trying to keep the extraordinary as separate from the ordinary as she could. It was her only way of surviving it. And now, she was forced to make them fit together.
The castle seemed too comfortable in its surroundings, as if it belonged buried in the sweeping green countryside. She didn't much care for the country anymore - hadn't since the Brecon Beacons incident - and she yearned for the comfortable sounds of city life. Cars whizzing by, people chatting in the streets, bars and pubs keeping towns alive at witching hours. The Castle, for all of its seemingly modern amenities, lacked anything that really made it feel comfortable. She couldn't even hear birds singing.
Gwen heaved a sigh and sat down on the steps. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting a chill that seemed to seep to her bones. She hated feeling alone.
Hoping someone - anyone - would meet her there, she waited.