who: Helena and others! what: March catchall log when: All month where: Across campus warnings: Potential gore, body horror, psychological horror in dreamscapes.
[ He skims the pages. It doesn't tell him much at all, but even this little bit is more than enough to start to give the first few lines of a story. There were experiments of some sort being conducted, and one can imagine that they were the less than savory sort. He commits it to memory, the key words reminding him to be cautious, before deciding it best to move on without delay.
He walks over the table next, inspecting the object - a body, he assumes - covered by the blanket. To be left out in the open, and in such a conspicuous manner no less, there must be a reason that it's here. He takes the edge in one hand, carefully peeling it back to see what's hidden beneath. ]
exactly as he looks now, new clothing and all, except this one has a hole through his head, eyes gone lifeless, face splintering and cracked in different areas. and there's another injury across the second Rio's chest, a deep gouge, as if someone slammed an axe into his sternum. ripped clothing, broken body.
and as he looks, a phantom wave of pain will overtake him - as though he can recall getting these injuries, the agony they'd come with, but not who inflicted them. shadows at the borders of his mind -
and then it settles, leaving only the suggestion of a racing heart.
[ The sight of his own lifeless body is unsettling, but its the sudden jolt of pain that makes him stumble back, his free hand instinctively gripping at his chest. It's a pain he shouldn't be able to feel with such intensity, but there it is, as painful as it would be for any human. He shudders after it passes, ripping his gaze away from the body laying on the table.
His breath is a little heavy, his heart beating a little too quickly, and he has to work to get both to settle. For a person who's never truly felt pain, it's all the worse when he does. But there's no time to linger on it, and he has little desire to waste time confronting the inevitability of death.
But the image lingers in his mind as he spins on his heel and starts walking, turning his head this way and that to see if there's anything else of interest, or otherwise if there's any suggestion of which way he should go. It's not advisable to simply wander about blindly at times like this. ]
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He walks over the table next, inspecting the object - a body, he assumes - covered by the blanket. To be left out in the open, and in such a conspicuous manner no less, there must be a reason that it's here. He takes the edge in one hand, carefully peeling it back to see what's hidden beneath. ]
no subject
exactly as he looks now, new clothing and all, except this one has a hole through his head, eyes gone lifeless, face splintering and cracked in different areas. and there's another injury across the second Rio's chest, a deep gouge, as if someone slammed an axe into his sternum. ripped clothing, broken body.
and as he looks, a phantom wave of pain will overtake him - as though he can recall getting these injuries, the agony they'd come with, but not who inflicted them. shadows at the borders of his mind -
and then it settles, leaving only the suggestion of a racing heart.
look not too long into the abyss, else...]
no subject
His breath is a little heavy, his heart beating a little too quickly, and he has to work to get both to settle. For a person who's never truly felt pain, it's all the worse when he does. But there's no time to linger on it, and he has little desire to waste time confronting the inevitability of death.
But the image lingers in his mind as he spins on his heel and starts walking, turning his head this way and that to see if there's anything else of interest, or otherwise if there's any suggestion of which way he should go. It's not advisable to simply wander about blindly at times like this. ]