(no subject)
She has never been to Metropolis. She has never been outside Maine. Except part of her- the part that re-lived their first seven years- has. But that part has also never been to Metropolis.
She's not entirely sure where this is, or how she got there. There was... something: the basement, God, people fighting... and pain (though there was always pain).
Less pain. And movement.
And now...
Well, it's a hospital, obviously. That's no surprise. What's surprising is, it's not Alchemilla, she's in a (well-lit!) normal room, and there are lots of doctors and nurses around. And they're not afraid of her.
This is unusual, but doesn't change her basic impression of medical facilities and those that staff them: that they are terrifying. So Alessa flees the only way she knows how to.
She wanders the side-alleys, shrinking behind trash cans and dumpsters when people go by, peering out when the coast seems clear. Nothing is familiar; not the unusually tall buildings, not the flat horizon, not the size, not the store names.
She isn't sure whether that's more frightening or a relief.
She's not entirely sure where this is, or how she got there. There was... something: the basement, God, people fighting... and pain (though there was always pain).
Less pain. And movement.
And now...
Well, it's a hospital, obviously. That's no surprise. What's surprising is, it's not Alchemilla, she's in a (well-lit!) normal room, and there are lots of doctors and nurses around. And they're not afraid of her.
This is unusual, but doesn't change her basic impression of medical facilities and those that staff them: that they are terrifying. So Alessa flees the only way she knows how to.
She wanders the side-alleys, shrinking behind trash cans and dumpsters when people go by, peering out when the coast seems clear. Nothing is familiar; not the unusually tall buildings, not the flat horizon, not the size, not the store names.
She isn't sure whether that's more frightening or a relief.