10-06-2013, 09:27 PM
It is not the strangest way Dan has spent a Saturday night. He spends far too many of them chauffering Sera around; tracking her down; checking in. Retrieving her clutch from the bar where she abandoned it in favor of something more-immediately-compelling than whever she was doing at the moment, and on and on. Hell, he spent one Saturday - one whole fucking lost weekend - holed up in a motel room at the city's edge eating funions and drinking Gatorade and playing the guitar while Sera sang and the walls crawled with power and resonance even he could feel. Keeping the world out.
So: Saturday night in Littleton; a quiet street near downtown. That old government building with its posh modern interior. It is well after hours. After dark; perhaps even after midnight. The Jeep again, with its rattling assortment of cassette tapes picked up at Goodwill scattered on the floor. Dan at the wheel and Sera in the passenger's seat and she's tripping. The walls are crawling with light and she keeps turning her head persistently to the right as if something were taunting her just outside the field of her vision and she has the sense that she is walking through a long, quiet tunnel. That there are rails on her hands and feet and that the street lights are breathing and -
- they park. He sets the parking break, too. Leans across the center console and murmurs into her ear. We're here.. She bumps her head into his mouth three or four times and gives him a strange little grin. She knows.
She knows she knows she knows.
Her attention swings back to the building and already he can feel her unknotting her frame of reference. Sliding into the high and little it open her up, giving herself over to it. Becoming no more than her skin so she can slip its bounds, dive into the stream and swim backwards, swallowing light the way lungs swallow air. Steady and tidal and sure.
[mnemosyne @ 9:25PM
Private Message to Samael
Time 2 / Prime 1 Difficulty 5. -1 for merit; -1 for specialty focus.
Roll: 2 d10 TN3 (4, 5) ( success x 3 ) [WP] VALID
mnemosyne @ 9:25PM
Private Message to Samael
and, extending. +1 difficulty.
Roll: 2 d10 TN4 (2, 9) ( success x 2 ) [WP] VALID
mnemosyne @ 9:26PM
Private Message to Samael
aaand, extending again, just in case.
Roll: 2 d10 TN4 (6, 7) ( success x 2 ) VALID]
So: Saturday night in Littleton; a quiet street near downtown. That old government building with its posh modern interior. It is well after hours. After dark; perhaps even after midnight. The Jeep again, with its rattling assortment of cassette tapes picked up at Goodwill scattered on the floor. Dan at the wheel and Sera in the passenger's seat and she's tripping. The walls are crawling with light and she keeps turning her head persistently to the right as if something were taunting her just outside the field of her vision and she has the sense that she is walking through a long, quiet tunnel. That there are rails on her hands and feet and that the street lights are breathing and -
- they park. He sets the parking break, too. Leans across the center console and murmurs into her ear. We're here.. She bumps her head into his mouth three or four times and gives him a strange little grin. She knows.
She knows she knows she knows.
Her attention swings back to the building and already he can feel her unknotting her frame of reference. Sliding into the high and little it open her up, giving herself over to it. Becoming no more than her skin so she can slip its bounds, dive into the stream and swim backwards, swallowing light the way lungs swallow air. Steady and tidal and sure.
[mnemosyne @ 9:25PM
Private Message to Samael
Time 2 / Prime 1 Difficulty 5. -1 for merit; -1 for specialty focus.
Roll: 2 d10 TN3 (4, 5) ( success x 3 ) [WP] VALID
mnemosyne @ 9:25PM
Private Message to Samael
and, extending. +1 difficulty.
Roll: 2 d10 TN4 (2, 9) ( success x 2 ) [WP] VALID
mnemosyne @ 9:26PM
Private Message to Samael
aaand, extending again, just in case.
Roll: 2 d10 TN4 (6, 7) ( success x 2 ) VALID]
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
