*It's not exactly dark, but the clarity leaves much to be desired. There's little focus on anything around him, attention spread out everywhere as his heartbeat, loud in his own ears, nearly drowns out the screams and yells and sounds of battle from the hall. His own breathing tries to compete with it for noise dominance as well, once he's able to remember to draw breath again. He stumbles into the room, shaking, the green lighting above illuminating the furniture in the room, and the crates, but giving him no ideas on where to try to hide, or possible ways to escape. He's cornered, and he knows it.*
*A sound quickly comes from behind him, and he spins to face the doorway, now open, figures stepping in-- only, the scene wavers as he watches, and instead of making them out clearly, it becomes a chaotic battlefield, a blood-soaked mess of shredded flesh and bone, flashes of teeth, such enormous, sharp teeth! and claws, oh god those claws--! and he remembers a choked little sound that might've come from him, as he's grabbed up roughly by the collar of his uniform, by one of the figures, and can only plead, in response to something asked of him in a low growl.*
*Red -- in front of him, a fiery red. An angry red, and then darkness again as the back of his head and torso hit glass, hard enough to crack it. Flung away from the figures and into the wall, he slides down to the floor, echoes of the battlefield staying in his view, overlapping reality in his panic-filled nightmare. The blood, the teeth--*
*Nowhere to run, stuck in his strategy room with those intimidating presences.... He picked himself back up slowly, the others pausing, quiet. He must have said something, his voice rising in an insane sort of desperation, though what it was exactly, even he probably wouldn't have been able to recall... and lunged forward, to strike at them.*
*It desn't go well, apparently -- flashes of claws again, of teeth, of red and yellow and brown and white and gray shapes, and blood, and fire -- was he somehow the cause of the fire? -- and then seeing the floor, the gray stone tiles, red with blood that had to be his own, puddle widening, under him, as everything went dark....*
...
*Harley makes a sound, a terrified, choked little gasp as he wakes up and pushes himself up off the ground and into a sitting position, pulling his knees up in front of him. It's too dark to make out anything much, but the glow from the Dreamberry shows that his back's to a wall somewhere, perhaps in an alleyway, or inside a building, with its lights off. It's hard to tell. He's still for a second, eyes wide, and then reaches a shaking hand up to check over himself, probably for sign of injuries. There aren't any, which confuses the heck out of him. He looks around him, not sure what to make of this, and finally catches sight of the Dreamberry sitting on the ground in front of him. It takes him a second before he reaches to pick it up and look it over. He doesn't look like he's ever seen it before, but that doesn't stop him from turning it off without a word.*
((...apologies to any chars totally disturbed by a nightmare like that. ♥
...yeah, that was through his eyes, just to make it clear. *only just now realized*
Also, yes, this is his intro. He's totally confused now. YAY BRAINBREAK!))