rootless | TRAUMAPROM

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!misc

TRAUMAPROM

[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]]