Has Anybody Seen Sam Lowry? [OPEN]
Who: Sam, and anyone who wants to be the first to come across a half-mad, crying, naked man buried up to his chest in sand.
What: A new arrival.
When: Thursday morning.
Where: The oasis, not too far from where the worldwalkers are staying.
NOTES. I HAS THEM: I'd prefer that a human, or at least human-appearing, character respond. Anyone who isn't covered in fur or scales, basically.
Also, spoilers? For a movie that came out over 20 years ago..... But-still, just fyi I guess. If you don't wanna read all of what I wrote, all you need to know is that Sam is found in the state I described above.
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He was facing the worst of his nightmares, made even more terrifying by the knowledge of who was behind the facade. Jack. The man in the mask. The ghost in the machine. The small hand drill steadily drawing closer to the surface of his skin.
"No, Jack, please -- please, Jack. No!"
This was the moment. Jack would no longer listen to him. Sam waited for the pain, every fibre of him screaming except, oddly, for his throat, which was feeling more and more like a clogged air conditioning duct with every passing nanosecond.
The world went black, and something -- the very air -- closed in on him, packed hard and coarse around him like a living grave. Sam was frozen in place. A small whimper escaped his throat. He still waited for the pain. Maybe this was what being dead was like. Maybe his heart had taken some mercy on him and just stopped before Jack could administer his techniques. Maybe he was just blacking out, his brain shutting out the torture like a-
There was something in his nose. He was trying to breathe, but something kept getting in the way.
A whole new breed of panic rose up in Sam, and suddenly, completely out of instinct, he was clawing his way -- where? Forward would be the most accurate description, but honestly, that didn't say much...
His right hand broke out into air. Hot, dry air. Moments later, there was Sam Lowry, or at least the upper torso of him, wheezing and gasping and coughing out bits of sand and plant matter. For a minute or two there was only basic relief at being alive and breathing. After that, he found himself gazing into an abyss.
The world above him was bright and blue, but Sam only saw the glare of it as it pierced his eyes, and he felt -- nothing. Something bubbled up inside of him; he thought it was the scream he had been waiting for, but it was laughter. A sharp, hysterical laughter that rose to a cackle, then melted, eventually, into weeping.
What: A new arrival.
When: Thursday morning.
Where: The oasis, not too far from where the worldwalkers are staying.
NOTES. I HAS THEM: I'd prefer that a human, or at least human-appearing, character respond. Anyone who isn't covered in fur or scales, basically.
Also, spoilers? For a movie that came out over 20 years ago..... But-still, just fyi I guess. If you don't wanna read all of what I wrote, all you need to know is that Sam is found in the state I described above.
----------
He was facing the worst of his nightmares, made even more terrifying by the knowledge of who was behind the facade. Jack. The man in the mask. The ghost in the machine. The small hand drill steadily drawing closer to the surface of his skin.
"No, Jack, please -- please, Jack. No!"
This was the moment. Jack would no longer listen to him. Sam waited for the pain, every fibre of him screaming except, oddly, for his throat, which was feeling more and more like a clogged air conditioning duct with every passing nanosecond.
The world went black, and something -- the very air -- closed in on him, packed hard and coarse around him like a living grave. Sam was frozen in place. A small whimper escaped his throat. He still waited for the pain. Maybe this was what being dead was like. Maybe his heart had taken some mercy on him and just stopped before Jack could administer his techniques. Maybe he was just blacking out, his brain shutting out the torture like a-
There was something in his nose. He was trying to breathe, but something kept getting in the way.
A whole new breed of panic rose up in Sam, and suddenly, completely out of instinct, he was clawing his way -- where? Forward would be the most accurate description, but honestly, that didn't say much...
His right hand broke out into air. Hot, dry air. Moments later, there was Sam Lowry, or at least the upper torso of him, wheezing and gasping and coughing out bits of sand and plant matter. For a minute or two there was only basic relief at being alive and breathing. After that, he found himself gazing into an abyss.
The world above him was bright and blue, but Sam only saw the glare of it as it pierced his eyes, and he felt -- nothing. Something bubbled up inside of him; he thought it was the scream he had been waiting for, but it was laughter. A sharp, hysterical laughter that rose to a cackle, then melted, eventually, into weeping.