[OPEN]
Who: Martha Jones-Smith (drjonessmith), whoever wants to join her.
Where: The outlander community block
Format: Paragraph, past tense
When: May 25th, nighttime
What: Martha goes out for the first time at exactly the worst time possible; much pain ensues.
Warnings: Not sure yet...violence, probably. Maybe some cursing.
She had no choice, really. The Mist had started seeping through the cracks in her door, wavering through the air. Its effects, much as she had been warned, were almost too intense to believe; while she never admitted she had nightmares about the Year that Never Was, not even to Mickey, these new versions of the old memories made her wake up screaming. They were more solid, sensory...real. Anytime she looked at the Mist floating in the air the Fires of Japan appeared before her in all their horror.
When she first opened the door, the Mist flooded into the room and surrounded her. The whole street looked the same; thick Mist towered over her head and filled the air. She couldn't see the building across from her, much less the other streets.
Still, she needed human contact. Real, flesh-and-blood contact, not the flickering images of strangers on the Forge. So she set out. The Mist folded her in, so deeply that that when she turned to close her door and lock it should had completely lost sight of it.
"Well, westward-ho then. At least, I can try if I can find an edge to the block and go around. This is going to be great." She stretched her hand out into the Mist, stepping forward until she felt the hard surface of the building. Then, like the blind leading the blind, she followed it.
"Hello? Is anyone out there?"
Where: The outlander community block
Format: Paragraph, past tense
When: May 25th, nighttime
What: Martha goes out for the first time at exactly the worst time possible; much pain ensues.
Warnings: Not sure yet...violence, probably. Maybe some cursing.
She had no choice, really. The Mist had started seeping through the cracks in her door, wavering through the air. Its effects, much as she had been warned, were almost too intense to believe; while she never admitted she had nightmares about the Year that Never Was, not even to Mickey, these new versions of the old memories made her wake up screaming. They were more solid, sensory...real. Anytime she looked at the Mist floating in the air the Fires of Japan appeared before her in all their horror.
When she first opened the door, the Mist flooded into the room and surrounded her. The whole street looked the same; thick Mist towered over her head and filled the air. She couldn't see the building across from her, much less the other streets.
Still, she needed human contact. Real, flesh-and-blood contact, not the flickering images of strangers on the Forge. So she set out. The Mist folded her in, so deeply that that when she turned to close her door and lock it should had completely lost sight of it.
"Well, westward-ho then. At least, I can try if I can find an edge to the block and go around. This is going to be great." She stretched her hand out into the Mist, stepping forward until she felt the hard surface of the building. Then, like the blind leading the blind, she followed it.
"Hello? Is anyone out there?"