http://toariversodeep.livejournal.com/ (
toariversodeep.livejournal.com) wrote in
insertmeathere2009-11-05 08:54 pm
(no subject)
You find yourself in a place.
This place, in fact, is somehow, inexplicably, a reflection of your own mind.
There are a few doors scattered around. They don't belong—they are styled to belong to other places. Stepping through the doors lets you visit the places like this that belong to the people you know.
What do you do?
This place, in fact, is somehow, inexplicably, a reflection of your own mind.
There are a few doors scattered around. They don't belong—they are styled to belong to other places. Stepping through the doors lets you visit the places like this that belong to the people you know.
What do you do?

no subject
It's like something's scared them to silence.
There's a tiny, tiny sound somewhere to the left as something moves. Not quite a twigsnap, but close.
Lafiel? You're being watched.
A pair of green eyes peering out of the cover of the trees and brush. They belong to a young man (or is it a boy?) wearing olive drab, his face is smeared with mud. It's clearly not the Chief, besides being too young.
He does not move, though his eyes have widened just slightly now that he's been spotted.
no subject
There's a tense moment between her and the boy, who appears not to be any older than her...though Abh and humans age differently.
no subject
The boy stares for a moment, then his eyes flick off to something to the side. He moves his head a little bit from side to side, clearly communicating something to somebody.
Then, watching Lafiel again, he slowly stands up. He's quite tall, really.
"Are you authorized to be here?" he asks.
no subject
no subject