Haine enters the gate. [Completed, Solo]
Character(s): Haine Rammsteiner
Content: Haine falls from the sky! And ends up at the gates, in Vanaheim. (edited)
Setting: Vanaheim
Time: Sunday, late evening
Warnings: Possible loss of blood and breaking of limbs.
It was dark. And damp. He had just woken up, and it hurt. His head, that is. It tended to happen a lot, as of recently. He groaned and looked around. Haine appeared to be in a tunnel, of sorts. It was barely taller than his height. He could see a light, at a distance.
Picking himself up, he started walking, heading for the distant light.
There was a rhythm now. A dull metronomic beat that echoed off the walls and shattered his ears.
And the light didn't get closer.
Eternity passed by.
All sense of time and place was lost. He was just dragging his feet now, eyes closed. He could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps. Now could hear a voice in the back of his head, haunting. An old memory. Tearing and screaming. A monster. Screaming to get out. He stopped and clutched his head. This couldn't happen to him now. Not this way. Haine collapsed, his head hit solid metal, making a large, resonate bang and produced a thousand thunderbolts within his skull. His eyes instantly shot open. Only now his body was sliding down on the metal. Grasping at the ground, he tried to grab hold of the cold surface. He felt his legs slip and desperately tried to find the edge that had appeared. Only now he had fallen to far too fast. There was no metal. In fact, it was just air. The tunnel was gone. Only darkness. Nothing, anymore.
He could feel the oxygen leaving as he cascaded. The air getting thin. The voice had left. He could only his short, ragged gasps and the pounding of his heart.
He was falling, down, down and slipping away.
Ever so slowly, he began to make out faint neon signs. Soon, he was surrounded with messages of "welcome" "warning" "you are here" "vacancy" "goodnight" "thank you" and a hundred others, all in a brightly lit rainbow of colors. These suddenly vanished, to be replaced something else. There was the smell of raw air--the kind that's had the sun too long. And it was getting warmer. He felt a slight breeze the passed over his skin that caused him to shudder.
Below him (although, which direction, was up?), he could make out a large circle. A dome. And there were trees. Two of them. Only the ground was now getting much, much closer and everything much, much clearer. There was line of people in front of a gate between those trees. But he was still falling. He was going to crash. He was going to burn. Burst into a sea of red when he hit the ground. It was coming now, faster. Ever nearer. He could see people turn and point. They all wanted to know, what is that? falling from the sky? Impossible.
Oh quite possible. And then it all collided together in the storm of the sea.
He did wake up later, how much later, he wasn't sure. He was in clean, pure white, windowless room. His head rested on a pillow, and he lay on a large bed with covers pulled up to his chin. Someone had taken off his shoes. That someone had also changed his clothes. These items now lay at the foot of the bed, cleaned. After Haine had made this observation, a scrawny young man entered the room. He was wearing glasses, wore a pressed suit, and carried a clipboard. He asked Haine for his name, to which Haine replied "Haine.....Haine Rammsteiner." The man wrote this down and then offered Haine a small 4” x 5”...thing. "An electronic journal," he explained. Haine said nothing, but took the object. "You're in Paixao now," he said softly, and left, closing the door behind him. Haine was alone.
Content: Haine falls from the sky! And ends up at the gates, in Vanaheim. (edited)
Setting: Vanaheim
Time: Sunday, late evening
Warnings: Possible loss of blood and breaking of limbs.
It was dark. And damp. He had just woken up, and it hurt. His head, that is. It tended to happen a lot, as of recently. He groaned and looked around. Haine appeared to be in a tunnel, of sorts. It was barely taller than his height. He could see a light, at a distance.
Picking himself up, he started walking, heading for the distant light.
There was a rhythm now. A dull metronomic beat that echoed off the walls and shattered his ears.
And the light didn't get closer.
Eternity passed by.
All sense of time and place was lost. He was just dragging his feet now, eyes closed. He could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps. Now could hear a voice in the back of his head, haunting. An old memory. Tearing and screaming. A monster. Screaming to get out. He stopped and clutched his head. This couldn't happen to him now. Not this way. Haine collapsed, his head hit solid metal, making a large, resonate bang and produced a thousand thunderbolts within his skull. His eyes instantly shot open. Only now his body was sliding down on the metal. Grasping at the ground, he tried to grab hold of the cold surface. He felt his legs slip and desperately tried to find the edge that had appeared. Only now he had fallen to far too fast. There was no metal. In fact, it was just air. The tunnel was gone. Only darkness. Nothing, anymore.
He could feel the oxygen leaving as he cascaded. The air getting thin. The voice had left. He could only his short, ragged gasps and the pounding of his heart.
He was falling, down, down and slipping away.
Ever so slowly, he began to make out faint neon signs. Soon, he was surrounded with messages of "welcome" "warning" "you are here" "vacancy" "goodnight" "thank you" and a hundred others, all in a brightly lit rainbow of colors. These suddenly vanished, to be replaced something else. There was the smell of raw air--the kind that's had the sun too long. And it was getting warmer. He felt a slight breeze the passed over his skin that caused him to shudder.
Below him (although, which direction, was up?), he could make out a large circle. A dome. And there were trees. Two of them. Only the ground was now getting much, much closer and everything much, much clearer. There was line of people in front of a gate between those trees. But he was still falling. He was going to crash. He was going to burn. Burst into a sea of red when he hit the ground. It was coming now, faster. Ever nearer. He could see people turn and point. They all wanted to know, what is that? falling from the sky? Impossible.
Oh quite possible. And then it all collided together in the storm of the sea.
He did wake up later, how much later, he wasn't sure. He was in clean, pure white, windowless room. His head rested on a pillow, and he lay on a large bed with covers pulled up to his chin. Someone had taken off his shoes. That someone had also changed his clothes. These items now lay at the foot of the bed, cleaned. After Haine had made this observation, a scrawny young man entered the room. He was wearing glasses, wore a pressed suit, and carried a clipboard. He asked Haine for his name, to which Haine replied "Haine.....Haine Rammsteiner." The man wrote this down and then offered Haine a small 4” x 5”...thing. "An electronic journal," he explained. Haine said nothing, but took the object. "You're in Paixao now," he said softly, and left, closing the door behind him. Haine was alone.