☆ 002 [ video | teneka | night ] fear event~
[ Asleep in her bed, Ariadne doesn't notice the mist creeping through the city. Her lungs inhale, taking the magic in, and it sets her brain into motion.
In bed, she stirs, her PORTAL falling to the floor where it begins to transmit. Her dream is no dream, but a nightmare -- the sounds of gunfire, blood on a warehouse floor, an overturned hotel room and a woman reaching through old elevator doors for her--
She wakes up, breathing heavily.
Then she screams. ]
They're moving-- Why are they--
[ All of 5'1", Ariadne nevertheless scrambles out of bed, kicking her blankets off like they're on fire. There isn't anywhere for her to go, though, and through her thoughts, you can see what she sees -- the walls are moving, shadows turned to a swarm of insects. The cords of the curtains on her windows hiss, moving like snakes, attempting to strike if she gets too close.
She scrambles, trying to find a safe place -- away from the walls, away from the windows, away from the door (because can't you hear that thudding, the slam of bodies on the other side? They're coming for her--). The floor isn't safe either, though, the shadows moving, rustling, insects that want nothing more to devour her, and all that comes to mind is to dream up a chair and perch on it, trying not to get too close to the ceiling, and to dream up pesticides and start to spray.
Of course, there's nothing truly there for her to kill... other than herself, if she doesn't stop spraying those chemicals like that. ]
In bed, she stirs, her PORTAL falling to the floor where it begins to transmit. Her dream is no dream, but a nightmare -- the sounds of gunfire, blood on a warehouse floor, an overturned hotel room and a woman reaching through old elevator doors for her--
She wakes up, breathing heavily.
Then she screams. ]
They're moving-- Why are they--
[ All of 5'1", Ariadne nevertheless scrambles out of bed, kicking her blankets off like they're on fire. There isn't anywhere for her to go, though, and through her thoughts, you can see what she sees -- the walls are moving, shadows turned to a swarm of insects. The cords of the curtains on her windows hiss, moving like snakes, attempting to strike if she gets too close.
She scrambles, trying to find a safe place -- away from the walls, away from the windows, away from the door (because can't you hear that thudding, the slam of bodies on the other side? They're coming for her--). The floor isn't safe either, though, the shadows moving, rustling, insects that want nothing more to devour her, and all that comes to mind is to dream up a chair and perch on it, trying not to get too close to the ceiling, and to dream up pesticides and start to spray.
Of course, there's nothing truly there for her to kill... other than herself, if she doesn't stop spraying those chemicals like that. ]