Comments | splendorlogs: too light to leave imprints

notthehead in splendorlogs

too light to leave imprints

Nov 05, 2010 11:05

Characters: Yosuke and Chey!!!
Where & When: Alpine District, some day recently...
Rating & Why: Cold because it's cold
Summary: finding little aliens in the snow does not grant good luck, just hand rashes.

( cold cold cold cold cold cold cold... )

oc: chey, yosuke hanamura

Comments 40

I decided to put on a trance remix of Popcorn...somehow it feels very appropriate lets_go_partner November 5 2010, 19:13:28 UTC

While a struggle between life and death waged outside his window, Yosuke was dealing with a very different struggle inside: to go out or stay in? His too-light windbreaker hung on the wooden pegs by the door, taunting him with the siren call of you could probably stand to replace me. Also, stop being a lazy ass.

On the other hand, the cabin was warm and the quilt draped over his shoulders was even warmer. Going down the mountain side meant braving the snowfall and fresh ice that always seemed to pop up overnight. Shopping was an alluring prospect -- he really did need that new coat... -- but the warmth and safety of a roommate-less cabin was hard to pass up.

...It still counts as being productive if I go outside for two seconds to get some firewood, right?

Of course it did. Who cared if he was just going to roll his communicator under the sofa and veg out afterwards? He needed a mental health day. If there was one thing Splendor had in spades, it was (excessive, sometimes unwanted) social interaction. What he wouldn't give for a ( ... )

are you saying i'm repetitively delicious or deliciously repetitive notthehead November 5 2010, 19:29:58 UTC

No, not a rock, but not a stick, either. Just stick-like. Chey was barely aware of the loud disturbances around him: the trudging feet, the huff of breath and grunts that would come with crouching down and rising up, the crunching of snow...All things that would've normally set off a dozen red flags and sent him fretting for his safety. Not so right then and there; the snow was safe enough to his dull mind, and only when it was brushed away and daylight beamed in over the shoulder of a large shadow did he even try to pay attention to his surroundings.

He uncurled slowly, his shoulders shrugging back up at the feel of a stray finger bumping him. Why was he being bothered? He was tired. Maybe it was Jam. It would've been very nice to have found Jam by then; he was so tired of trying to fend for himself all alone. The possibility of it being a predator was fleeting. Chey was much too tired to be afraid for his life.

It was hard to tell really what it was, though. He turned his head a little and squinted blearily upward at the ( ... )

deliciously delicious, actually P8 lets_go_partner November 5 2010, 20:42:10 UTC

It wasn't a rock.

It was the furthest thing from a rock.

Yosuke fell backwards with a scatter of twigs, crab walking blindly in an effort to get away from the...thing he'd unearthed. His mind went to 'pixie' first. He'd seen them flitting around Wonderland once or twice, but what was one doing up here? Were pixies like seagulls? Did they fly up to the Alpine District to die!?

But the thing didn't have wings, did it? And it was bigger than the pixies, though using the word 'big' to describe anything about the thing didn't ring right. It looked downright tiny in the snowbank, and was it...moving?

Yosuke blinked back at, suddenly aware of the silence around them when he locked eyes with the creature. Nothing but the whipping wind and his own ragged, startled breathing.

Wait...staring? They were making eye contact? But that meant...!Yosuke scrambled to right himself, crawling back over to where the creature lay in the snow. This was no local. His hands stung while he dug it (person? animal?) out, pausing only to rip off his ( ... )

CHEW SLOWLY... notthehead November 5 2010, 21:03:31 UTC

A lot of things were happening much faster than Chey was able to keep up with, let alone register. There would be sunlight, then shapes would blot it out, and the wind would shriek a little quieter until the sun was back and it was all just blurry light and noise again. It was more confusing than terrifying, and Chey was inclined to hide his face away to sleep.

Hints of his panicky nature surfaced at being touched, however; no amount of sleep or cold could utterly dash his fears of being devoured or beaten. His face contorted into something anguished, clamping his eyes shut as he felt the vague sensation of being lifted, his key dangling and tugging on a shoulder and making it all the more apparent.

This was it, wasn't it? He was going to die now, wasn't he? He'd failed to escape or find Jam or even climb a third of that horrible mountain and now he was being taken away to be eaten or sold of to some zoo to die alone and miserable. Chey's fingers slowly found their way to his skull, numbly curling against his temples and cheeks in ( ... )

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