TRAUMAPROM

[rootless]

[One moment, you're chatting, eating, or trying to find a way out of this strange garden. The next? The whole world seems to spin around you, colors blazing and swirling, sound muffled—it feels like you're going to faint—

. . .

Seconds later, it's over.

And you're somewhere else entirely. It looks like you're trapped inside a dome of frosted glass; nobody can see in, you can't see out, and should you try to break it, the only thing your efforts will earn you is a bruise.

It's a small space, which you're sharing with one other person—perhaps they're very, very special to you, perhaps they're not. Either way, other than them, all you'll be able to find is a long, sharp knife, and a vial labelled with naught more than a skull and crossbones.]

[[turn-in/etc]]

Comments

[rootless]

[ok but the sound he's making is not remotely human and it's deeply distressed, even though he's put on his cold face]

[restorefromsave]

[Runs his fingers through Tempest's hair, trying to be soothing.]

[rootless]

I hate this and I'm not letting either of us die I hate this and fuck you for pulling that shit.

[restorefromsave]

Feel free to kick my ass when we're out of here.

[rootless]

I'd kick your ass now but we probably don't have time.

[restorefromsave]

I'm glad we're on the same page.

[rootless]

Ugh.

I'm willing to give up my abilities.

[restorefromsave]

I'd rather you not. People may need healing after this.

[rootless]

Ecxept for healing, then.

[restorefromsave]

I'll offer my skills as well.

[rootless]

[nods]

What else...

[restorefromsave]

Memories, senses.... Service perhaps.

[rootless]

Not memories. The other two, though...

[restorefromsave]

A year's service then.

[rootless]

[nods.]

A year's service. Better that without offering senses, so we wouldn't be useless.

[restorefromsave]

I would offer my memories as well.

[rootless]

...Sion?

[restorefromsave]

I don't want to forget things again, but it's not going to be fair to you if I don't try to survive here, is it? Those are the things I'd hate to lose most, over senses or abilities, they're what define who I am.

If I survive than I'll need your help making new memories, if I don't, it won't matter anyway.

[rootless]

...I'll stick with you, if we both survive this.

[restorefromsave]

[Brushes Tempests hair from his face.]

Thank you. I'm sorry, it's not really fair at all.

[rootless]

You'd think we'd be- used to it by now...

[his voice breaks, and he ducks his head, leaning up against Sion instead]

[restorefromsave]

[Wraps his arms around him.]

You'd think. But somehow it never quite settles.

[rootless]

...Be careful. You don't want my feelings right now.

[restorefromsave]

[I might never have them again. Sion says nothing and instead takes off his gloves, tangles his fingers in Tempest's hair, and holds him.]

[rootless]

[well enjoy that veritable hurricane of hate-anger-regret-anguish and a lot more that can't even be identified past those feelings]