[ Gansey doesn't remember getting here. He doesn't know how it happened, can't remember any sort of confrontation or incident that could have led to this. What he knows is that he's encased in a wooden box. That banging against the sides, and the lid, tells him either that it's thick and solid, or that it's being pressed in place by something else. His knuckles already feel torn and slick from trying to break through the wood, and it's done nothing but give him splinters.
He's in a coffin. Christ, he's in a coffin, and he's been buried and he will die here, or he's already dead and doesn't know it. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can't get enough air. He feels that there are insects buzzing around his ears, and he knows that can't be right, but the sound persists.
He has had this dream before.
It's not real, he tells himself. It's a dream, and he needs to wake from it, because outside of it it's likely that he's screaming and that will frighten his friends, and they can't know. He has to wake up, and he will before he dies. That's how it works, that's when the fear becomes too much and he wakes up.
His hands have never bled this much. That's a new detail. ]
Help! Help me!
[ It's instinct. He shouts it without meaning to, and then keeps shouting, and can't make himself stop. It's been years since he had this dream.
He has to wake up. ]
B: EXPLORING | SCENARIO ONE
[ By the time he tasted air, Gansey hadn't cared where he was. It hadn't mattered. He'd take anything over being in that box, anything at all. He's covered in soil, can feel clumps of it trapped beneath his fingernails. Gansey never looks like this. He's careful about being presentable, in every way, but right now he couldn't care less.
The problem now is that he's still buried. It had taken him a while to understand, to process what he was seeing. He's somehow, impossibly, still underground. Where is the light coming from? He's trying to put himself back together, to regain the calm and control that he'd lost in the coffin, and that's what he keeps wondering. And then of course, there's the city. The spires climbing up, and the fact that the whole thing seems to fit in one enormous hole in the rock. How does the ceiling stay up?
This is fascinating. It's like nothing he's ever seen, and the part of him that loves things like this is thrilled by it.
The part that just crawled out of a grave only wants to go home.
He's passing one of the spires when he hears the sound. He thinks it's a cat, at first. It has the right look, and it sounds something like a purr. Cats, underground? He takes a step towards it, and then suddenly it leaps out of the dark. The moment that he realizes it's so much more than a cat is the same moment a burst of energy thunders into him and throws him back. Gansey scrambles to his feet, horrified. ]
Christ, what fresh hell are you?
[ Whatever it is, there's fresh energy bristling around its...tentacles, Jesus. He quickly backs off, eyes wildly scanning the area for help. He has no idea how to fight something like this. He edges back and the cat follows, static rolling over its fur. He holds up his hand like he means to tame it.
This isn't going to go well. ]
Good cat. Stay - does this even work on cats?! [ He looks around, trying to catch an eye. It doesn't matter whose. ] If you don't mind, I could really use a hand!
Gansey | The Raven Cycle
[ Gansey doesn't remember getting here. He doesn't know how it happened, can't remember any sort of confrontation or incident that could have led to this. What he knows is that he's encased in a wooden box. That banging against the sides, and the lid, tells him either that it's thick and solid, or that it's being pressed in place by something else. His knuckles already feel torn and slick from trying to break through the wood, and it's done nothing but give him splinters.
He's in a coffin. Christ, he's in a coffin, and he's been buried and he will die here, or he's already dead and doesn't know it. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can't get enough air. He feels that there are insects buzzing around his ears, and he knows that can't be right, but the sound persists.
He has had this dream before.
It's not real, he tells himself. It's a dream, and he needs to wake from it, because outside of it it's likely that he's screaming and that will frighten his friends, and they can't know. He has to wake up, and he will before he dies. That's how it works, that's when the fear becomes too much and he wakes up.
His hands have never bled this much. That's a new detail. ]
Help! Help me!
[ It's instinct. He shouts it without meaning to, and then keeps shouting, and can't make himself stop. It's been years since he had this dream.
He has to wake up. ]
B: EXPLORING | SCENARIO ONE
[ By the time he tasted air, Gansey hadn't cared where he was. It hadn't mattered. He'd take anything over being in that box, anything at all. He's covered in soil, can feel clumps of it trapped beneath his fingernails. Gansey never looks like this. He's careful about being presentable, in every way, but right now he couldn't care less.
The problem now is that he's still buried. It had taken him a while to understand, to process what he was seeing. He's somehow, impossibly, still underground. Where is the light coming from? He's trying to put himself back together, to regain the calm and control that he'd lost in the coffin, and that's what he keeps wondering. And then of course, there's the city. The spires climbing up, and the fact that the whole thing seems to fit in one enormous hole in the rock. How does the ceiling stay up?
This is fascinating. It's like nothing he's ever seen, and the part of him that loves things like this is thrilled by it.
The part that just crawled out of a grave only wants to go home.
He's passing one of the spires when he hears the sound. He thinks it's a cat, at first. It has the right look, and it sounds something like a purr. Cats, underground? He takes a step towards it, and then suddenly it leaps out of the dark. The moment that he realizes it's so much more than a cat is the same moment a burst of energy thunders into him and throws him back. Gansey scrambles to his feet, horrified. ]
Christ, what fresh hell are you?
[ Whatever it is, there's fresh energy bristling around its...tentacles, Jesus. He quickly backs off, eyes wildly scanning the area for help. He has no idea how to fight something like this. He edges back and the cat follows, static rolling over its fur. He holds up his hand like he means to tame it.
This isn't going to go well. ]
Good cat. Stay - does this even work on cats?! [ He looks around, trying to catch an eye. It doesn't matter whose. ] If you don't mind, I could really use a hand!