Boned [Active, Backlog]
Characters: Jack Skellington and Luxord
Content: Jack finally leaves Character Limbo and enters the severely backlogged realm of Organizational torture.
Setting: An unpleasant, undisclosed location.
Time: A WHILE ago. Don't ask, I don't know.
Warnings: Mindraepage, at least.
Jack couldn't even manage to struggle properly like the situation deserved; his light weight and slender frame made it child's play for even two dusks to carry him between them, stretched out well above the floor and away from anything he could get leverage on. He did protest though, and vehemently so, until one of the dusks simply stuffed an appendage--it couldn't properly be called a hand--between his teeth to silence him.
Not long after that, they stepped into a small, stark room; Jack found himself reminded of a whitewashed coffin. Even without eyes to speak of, the harsh florescent lights bouncing off the walls and floor forced him to squint. He had to regret the fact that they seemed wise to his ability to dislocate his own bones; the dusks were taking appropriate precautions to keep him down. Straps were passed through the gaps between bones in his arms and legs, woven through his hands and over his spine, even one was passed through his skull.... It was maddening. He couldn't have easily popped anything out at this point, and everything important was strapped down too securely to take with him, his skull included.
That left only the question of what would happen now. The dusks were leaving, but surely they weren't planning to just exchange one form of imprisonment for another, were they?
((OOC: Infy apologizes for the uber-lateness and crappiness of this post, Kiaxet. DX *hides in shame*))
Content: Jack finally leaves Character Limbo and enters the severely backlogged realm of Organizational torture.
Setting: An unpleasant, undisclosed location.
Time: A WHILE ago. Don't ask, I don't know.
Warnings: Mindraepage, at least.
Jack couldn't even manage to struggle properly like the situation deserved; his light weight and slender frame made it child's play for even two dusks to carry him between them, stretched out well above the floor and away from anything he could get leverage on. He did protest though, and vehemently so, until one of the dusks simply stuffed an appendage--it couldn't properly be called a hand--between his teeth to silence him.
Not long after that, they stepped into a small, stark room; Jack found himself reminded of a whitewashed coffin. Even without eyes to speak of, the harsh florescent lights bouncing off the walls and floor forced him to squint. He had to regret the fact that they seemed wise to his ability to dislocate his own bones; the dusks were taking appropriate precautions to keep him down. Straps were passed through the gaps between bones in his arms and legs, woven through his hands and over his spine, even one was passed through his skull.... It was maddening. He couldn't have easily popped anything out at this point, and everything important was strapped down too securely to take with him, his skull included.
That left only the question of what would happen now. The dusks were leaving, but surely they weren't planning to just exchange one form of imprisonment for another, were they?
((OOC: Infy apologizes for the uber-lateness and crappiness of this post, Kiaxet. DX *hides in shame*))