This could be heaven... or this could be hell...
Clink
There shouldn't be any chains in the afterlife... unless... she's in hell?
Silver doesn't open her eyes, gathering what she can through her other senses before she attempts to gather in light. Her face is pressed against rough linen. There is a smell of a recently cleaned but infrequently used room around her. Around her wrists and neck there is metal - or if it isn't metal, it is heavy enough to be metal. After flexing her feet just slightly, she gathers that her ankles are in fetters as well.
Clink
I'm not dead. There is disappointment and relief in being alive.
Victor... While she does not regret having done what she did, there is a level of sadness at having lost what they did have, whatever it might well have been. Does a man like Victor von Doom truly have friends? Opening her eyes, she starts to sit up to examine the room she's in.
The chains are heavy around her neck and wrists as she moves. The thick links, by the looks of them, will allow her to travel to every part of the room but the chains are obviously meant to slow her down. There is little in the room. The bed is easily the largest piece of furnature in the room, though there is a small table and a chair. Both of them look as though they would take a considerable amount of time to disassemble for a weapon.
Clink, clink, clinkclink
Pulling in a breath, she lets it back out again slowly. Folding herself into as close to a lotus position as she can manage at the moment, she closes her eyes again and attempts to begin meditation. Her stomach growls, very empty, making Silver wonder just how long she was unconcious this time.
This time, she's certain that her company will not be as pleasant as it was last time.
There shouldn't be any chains in the afterlife... unless... she's in hell?
Silver doesn't open her eyes, gathering what she can through her other senses before she attempts to gather in light. Her face is pressed against rough linen. There is a smell of a recently cleaned but infrequently used room around her. Around her wrists and neck there is metal - or if it isn't metal, it is heavy enough to be metal. After flexing her feet just slightly, she gathers that her ankles are in fetters as well.
Clink
I'm not dead. There is disappointment and relief in being alive.
Victor... While she does not regret having done what she did, there is a level of sadness at having lost what they did have, whatever it might well have been. Does a man like Victor von Doom truly have friends? Opening her eyes, she starts to sit up to examine the room she's in.
The chains are heavy around her neck and wrists as she moves. The thick links, by the looks of them, will allow her to travel to every part of the room but the chains are obviously meant to slow her down. There is little in the room. The bed is easily the largest piece of furnature in the room, though there is a small table and a chair. Both of them look as though they would take a considerable amount of time to disassemble for a weapon.
Clink, clink, clinkclink
Pulling in a breath, she lets it back out again slowly. Folding herself into as close to a lotus position as she can manage at the moment, she closes her eyes again and attempts to begin meditation. Her stomach growls, very empty, making Silver wonder just how long she was unconcious this time.
This time, she's certain that her company will not be as pleasant as it was last time.