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driftfleet2015-02-20 05:59 pm
lord_wizard) wrote in driftfleet2015-02-20 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
first labyrinth
Who: Felix Harrowgate
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: 2/20, evening
[The fact that Felix remembers the past four years when he wakes up is the first indication he has that something has gone wrong. Normally the lack of memory loss would be a good thing, but he'd expected, given everything he'd learned, that life would resume as it had been the moment he'd left his own world. Of course, things had been a bit irregular near the end, and he'd had a strange hope that maybe he wouldn't forget.
The network station first records him sitting up in his cot, a man dressed in a rich burgundy coat reminiscent of eighteenth century nobility, his slightly curly red hair tied back with a ribbon. Fingers clad in gold and garnet rings brush first against his forehead, then at his chest where the necklace Ashura had given him still lay, then patting against his pocket where the Sibylline decidedly still wasn't.
As he takes in the open space and the void outside the sweeping windows, the expression on his face shifts smoothly from confusion, to shock, to a vivid anger. He sits up from his bed so quickly that it upends with a clatter]
No! No! [his shout is shrill, edging on hysterical, and much higher than might be expected out of him at first glance. He turns in place, as if looking for something or someone to direct this at instead of thin air, then settles at shouting at nothing]
Damn you, Paradisa! Is is really going to be one last trick? Haven't I served my time? Haven't I done enough?
[His eyes, vivid yellow and pale blue, find his communicator sitting on cot next to his, and he stalks over to pick it up a rather obvious air of contempt. His brows knit together in slight puzzlement amidst the storming anger]
What is this? [The fact that he actually knows the answer to that raises more questions] Is the journal not good enough for you any longer?
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: 2/20, evening
[The fact that Felix remembers the past four years when he wakes up is the first indication he has that something has gone wrong. Normally the lack of memory loss would be a good thing, but he'd expected, given everything he'd learned, that life would resume as it had been the moment he'd left his own world. Of course, things had been a bit irregular near the end, and he'd had a strange hope that maybe he wouldn't forget.
The network station first records him sitting up in his cot, a man dressed in a rich burgundy coat reminiscent of eighteenth century nobility, his slightly curly red hair tied back with a ribbon. Fingers clad in gold and garnet rings brush first against his forehead, then at his chest where the necklace Ashura had given him still lay, then patting against his pocket where the Sibylline decidedly still wasn't.
As he takes in the open space and the void outside the sweeping windows, the expression on his face shifts smoothly from confusion, to shock, to a vivid anger. He sits up from his bed so quickly that it upends with a clatter]
No! No! [his shout is shrill, edging on hysterical, and much higher than might be expected out of him at first glance. He turns in place, as if looking for something or someone to direct this at instead of thin air, then settles at shouting at nothing]
Damn you, Paradisa! Is is really going to be one last trick? Haven't I served my time? Haven't I done enough?
[His eyes, vivid yellow and pale blue, find his communicator sitting on cot next to his, and he stalks over to pick it up a rather obvious air of contempt. His brows knit together in slight puzzlement amidst the storming anger]
What is this? [The fact that he actually knows the answer to that raises more questions] Is the journal not good enough for you any longer?
no subject
[He makes an impatient gesture at the ship in general]
So you may imagine how I came to that conclusion.
no subject
Did anyone ever get out? Before you came here, anyway?
no subject
[His mouth twists into a grimace at the memory of that despair, and then shakes his head]
I can't be sure, but I think they were a minority. For most, they return as if ordeal had never happened.