[ there's the sound of something popping, like a bubble of sorts that comes to the surface of the sea. the sound runs like a fish tank with the filters active, bubbling up until it stops. this isn't visible, as it is only heard, it's like...
being submerged underwater with how muted and distorted the sounds are, things move slow, his vision will blur and he'll feel a sort of grogginess take over. the double will feel that way, almost like he's drowning, that he's unable to breathe if he decides to go any closer to that door. despite the threat that looms, his body may feel as though there's no choice at all.
once he's close enough to the door, ready to walk inside, that uncomfortable feeling that wrapped around his throat will disappear like his head has finally found the surface.
...
it's exhausting, being dragged into another room where he stumbles and falls to his knees. it's not a good look on shadow, never has been, however the weight of the situation and triggered something inside of him that his body refuses to accept. he has to catch his breath, his body doesn't want to move, it's not a weakness, but the endless path of pain and suffering that he's unable to stop, like a nightmare he's unable to wake up from.
it eats away at him, mentally it warps his thoughts, physically it staggers his movements that he's unable to push himself up off the floor. his ears raise, swivel a bit, and he exhales as his eyes stare down at the ground. were they really there, why did it feel so real, and when will he wake up? the portrait still remains in his hand, blood having covered over top of the girl's image, but none having spread to where his double occupys the photograph.
there's no one dragging him so he can get up on his own time, the pressure of the area feels almost draining. one hand comes to his head, palm smoothing against quills to try and soothe the upcoming migraine. no matter what, he can't stop here, this isn't even his problem, these have nothing to do with him — but aren't all shadows meant to suffer the same way?
this underlying fear that they have of the past, their loss coming to light, it's complex but to watch them hurt, and then hurt themselves. it's such a beautiful sight, as long as they are unresponsive by the end, what more could a nightmare want?
shadow finally manages to take a look at the location that he's in, the building is a wide curve, there's something on the wall that looks more than just a design choice. he takes a step forward, but there's something holding him back. shadow turns his head, and in his hand where the frame is feels heavier, that he must let it go here.
this is but the last connection he has with her in essence. she is not his, but she is still a comfort, but maybe there's a reason why when he let's go, and he's able to move forward. he still has his strength in his legs, not looking back anymore as there's nothing to return to in hindsight. push forward, this place wants him to move in one direction towards the end?
he stops right in front of a tank, empty much like everything else within the room. there's nothing inside, but with them lined side by side tells him that they were stockpiling something. it doesn't come to him instantly just yet, he turns away from it to move to the machinery that's still attempting to stay on with what energy this place is able to give. his eyes glancing at the screen and then to the paper with marks stretched left and right, documenting the output of whatever they were testing proved worthwhile.
shadow looks back to the screen, watching to see when it'll flick back. he has a feeling that maybe something can be found in it, give him a clearer picture. ]
no subject
being submerged underwater with how muted and distorted the sounds are, things move slow, his vision will blur and he'll feel a sort of grogginess take over. the double will feel that way, almost like he's drowning, that he's unable to breathe if he decides to go any closer to that door. despite the threat that looms, his body may feel as though there's no choice at all.
once he's close enough to the door, ready to walk inside, that uncomfortable feeling that wrapped around his throat will disappear like his head has finally found the surface.
...
it's exhausting, being dragged into another room where he stumbles and falls to his knees. it's not a good look on shadow, never has been, however the weight of the situation and triggered something inside of him that his body refuses to accept. he has to catch his breath, his body doesn't want to move, it's not a weakness, but the endless path of pain and suffering that he's unable to stop, like a nightmare he's unable to wake up from.
it eats away at him, mentally it warps his thoughts, physically it staggers his movements that he's unable to push himself up off the floor. his ears raise, swivel a bit, and he exhales as his eyes stare down at the ground. were they really there, why did it feel so real, and when will he wake up? the portrait still remains in his hand, blood having covered over top of the girl's image, but none having spread to where his double occupys the photograph.
there's no one dragging him so he can get up on his own time, the pressure of the area feels almost draining. one hand comes to his head, palm smoothing against quills to try and soothe the upcoming migraine. no matter what, he can't stop here, this isn't even his problem, these have nothing to do with him — but aren't all shadows meant to suffer the same way?
this underlying fear that they have of the past, their loss coming to light, it's complex but to watch them hurt, and then hurt themselves. it's such a beautiful sight, as long as they are unresponsive by the end, what more could a nightmare want?
shadow finally manages to take a look at the location that he's in, the building is a wide curve, there's something on the wall that looks more than just a design choice. he takes a step forward, but there's something holding him back. shadow turns his head, and in his hand where the frame is feels heavier, that he must let it go here.
this is but the last connection he has with her in essence. she is not his, but she is still a comfort, but maybe there's a reason why when he let's go, and he's able to move forward. he still has his strength in his legs, not looking back anymore as there's nothing to return to in hindsight. push forward, this place wants him to move in one direction towards the end?
he stops right in front of a tank, empty much like everything else within the room. there's nothing inside, but with them lined side by side tells him that they were stockpiling something. it doesn't come to him instantly just yet, he turns away from it to move to the machinery that's still attempting to stay on with what energy this place is able to give. his eyes glancing at the screen and then to the paper with marks stretched left and right, documenting the output of whatever they were testing proved worthwhile.
shadow looks back to the screen, watching to see when it'll flick back. he has a feeling that maybe something can be found in it, give him a clearer picture. ]