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mayfield_rpg2012-04-11 11:53 pm
truffulacide) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-04-11 11:53 pm
Entry tags:
❀ 01
A. [ACTION: 917 BILKO BOULEVARD]
[before the Once-ler even opens his eyes, the first thing that immediately occurs to him is how fresh the air is.
even when he's straddling the border between the waking world and his dream world, it's immediately apparent. sleeping, such as it is, isn't easy to accomplish anymore. it's always fitful and restless and not really sleep at all; light napping would be more accurate. once, all he had to do was bury himself under his quilt and concentrate on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull himself into unconsciousness. it's a little more difficult now. his breathing isn't so steady anymore; it's hoarse and when he coughs it feels like his throat's splitting apart. the air's too sour and smoggy to inhale without launching into a fit of hacking and spitting, but like most things these days, he's gotten used to it. you didn't even need willpower to force yourself to accept things anymore - all you had to do was give up.
he's lived in the valley long enough for his body to grow accustomed to the air, so naturally it senses that something is very wrong here before his mind even registers the fact. buried under his blanket with his legs sticking out in uncomfortable directions (and wow, did he outgrow his bed or did it somehow shrink?), he yawns and smacks his lips together noisily, a little trickle of drool hanging out of the corner of his mouth. he really must've been exhausted because, gosh, he can't remember sleeping this well since - well, since -
since the trees were still -
...wait. waitwaitwaaaait - was it sunny?
the Once-ler's eyes flutter a little before wrenching themselves open completely and he confirms within the rough span of five seconds that, yes, it is sunny and no, he isn't in his room. and this DEFINITELY isn't his bed, it's smells like fresh soap and cotton and it's way too cramped like... like...
what. the. heck.
he slowly turns over on his side and all it takes is the sight of the woman's blond head for him to bolt upright in bed and shriek at the top of his lungs.]
B. [ACTION: 917 BILKO BOULEVARD]
[lovely day, ain't it? maybe you're on your way to work. maybe you're a girl scout making your rounds. maybe you're just out for a walk, looking to stretch your legs and take in Mayfield properly before the powers-that-be go nuts and end up putting a damper on what could otherwise be a very nice week.
if you're expecting a relaxing morning, you definitely shouldn't pass 917. really, you shouldn't.]
- Hey!
[this is why.
even if you don't hear it the first time, that single word is repeated with a little more urgency (and a little more whining) until you give in and follow it to the source, which just happens to be the mail slot of this particular house.
the slot is open and a pair of blue eyes are peering out, looking straight at you.]
Yeah, you! Get over here!
[before the Once-ler even opens his eyes, the first thing that immediately occurs to him is how fresh the air is.
even when he's straddling the border between the waking world and his dream world, it's immediately apparent. sleeping, such as it is, isn't easy to accomplish anymore. it's always fitful and restless and not really sleep at all; light napping would be more accurate. once, all he had to do was bury himself under his quilt and concentrate on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull himself into unconsciousness. it's a little more difficult now. his breathing isn't so steady anymore; it's hoarse and when he coughs it feels like his throat's splitting apart. the air's too sour and smoggy to inhale without launching into a fit of hacking and spitting, but like most things these days, he's gotten used to it. you didn't even need willpower to force yourself to accept things anymore - all you had to do was give up.
he's lived in the valley long enough for his body to grow accustomed to the air, so naturally it senses that something is very wrong here before his mind even registers the fact. buried under his blanket with his legs sticking out in uncomfortable directions (and wow, did he outgrow his bed or did it somehow shrink?), he yawns and smacks his lips together noisily, a little trickle of drool hanging out of the corner of his mouth. he really must've been exhausted because, gosh, he can't remember sleeping this well since - well, since -
since the trees were still -
...wait. waitwaitwaaaait - was it sunny?
the Once-ler's eyes flutter a little before wrenching themselves open completely and he confirms within the rough span of five seconds that, yes, it is sunny and no, he isn't in his room. and this DEFINITELY isn't his bed, it's smells like fresh soap and cotton and it's way too cramped like... like...
what. the. heck.
he slowly turns over on his side and all it takes is the sight of the woman's blond head for him to bolt upright in bed and shriek at the top of his lungs.]
B. [ACTION: 917 BILKO BOULEVARD]
[lovely day, ain't it? maybe you're on your way to work. maybe you're a girl scout making your rounds. maybe you're just out for a walk, looking to stretch your legs and take in Mayfield properly before the powers-that-be go nuts and end up putting a damper on what could otherwise be a very nice week.
if you're expecting a relaxing morning, you definitely shouldn't pass 917. really, you shouldn't.]
- Hey!
[this is why.
even if you don't hear it the first time, that single word is repeated with a little more urgency (and a little more whining) until you give in and follow it to the source, which just happens to be the mail slot of this particular house.
the slot is open and a pair of blue eyes are peering out, looking straight at you.]
Yeah, you! Get over here!
B
Huh? Where--?
no subject
[a hand is half-poking out of the slot, awkwardly moving back and forth in a little wave.]
That's...wow. What an awesome magic trick. [he sounds noticeably excited, and he tries to squint in an effort to make out any giveaways that this is staged.] How are you even doing that?
no subject
no subject
...You don't look like one. I thought ghosts were supposed to be scary.
no subject
Maybe they are where you are from? But look. [She floats on up to the door, and sticks her hand right through it, like it wasn't even there. It waves at him.] See?
no subject
Say no more...! [it's kind of - okay, REALLY horrifying, but also just a little bit fascinating. it's like being face to face with a real life special effect.
to confirm that he's really seeing this, he reaches out with one trembling hand and swipes through hers. it goes right through it.]
Yikes. You're freezing!
no subject
People have told me that, but I can't tell! But see, not all of us are scary. At least I like to think I'm not.
no subject
[but then something occurs to him and he looks a little pensive.]
Does it bother you?
no subject
no subject
[kinda sucks they she doesn't remember anything about her past, but... memories return over time, right? that's the main thing.]
Do you remember your name at least?
no subject
no subject
[he wiggles a few fingers through the mail slot in an attempt at a wave.]
I'm the Once-ler. Good to meet you, ghost girl.
no subject