Berry's Heart

[dramatispersonae]

[For once, you're not falling.

. . . No, this time you just feel like you're sinking, down down down into turbulent water. Just before you feel like you're about to run out of air, the whole world turns white, and—]

((Please join #berrybeneath!))

Comments

[START]

[dramatispersonae]

[You find yourselves in a wide open field, beneath a stormy sky. No rain falls upon your skin, but you can feel a silent, tingling crackle all around you. White birds swoop and spiral, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden by low cloud-cover.

Closest to you, in the center of the glade, is a clocktower-sized version of this. The minute hand is cranking gently clockwise, while the hour hand shivers and jerks counterclockwise.

To the north is a huge tree, overburdened with leaves in a rainbow of colors. The branches creak and bow with the weight of them, but through it all you can catch glimpses of some kind of structure.

To the south, green grass gives way to a blanket of snow. A Camelot cabin, quaintly dusted with white, stands there.

To the west, gentle steams rise over a pool of water. Plants grow along the banks.

And finally, to the east, a paved pathway leads off into the distance. It looks remarkably like a city sidewalk, complete with lampposts and drains.]

Re: [START]

[glorious]

[...huh.]

[taking a look at that clocktower first then...]

Re: [START]

[tonewlengths]

[NO BUT I HATE DROWNING D: Falls to her knees, gasping for breath]

Re: [START]

[everfixedmark]

[draws a deep breath, eyes a little distant, and will slowly check out who else is here before going anywhere]

Re: [START]

[performing]

... huh.

[looking around the area thoughtfully, trying to get his bearings about the place; then heads over to examine the clock itself]

Re: [START]

[sinkingship]

[sucks in a breath, fingers curled over his chest]

. . . che.

[flicking his gaze around quickly to see who else is there]

Re: [START]

[blackjacked]

[oh god it's not like I have issues with drowning or anything]

[t. . . takes a moment to regain his bearings, before joining the group inspecting the sassy clock]

Re: [START]

[silverbulletkun]

[ugh what's with that unpleasant entrance, taking a moment to regain his bearings before hesitantly wandering closer to that weird clock]

Re: [START]

[shednotearsformagic]

[WHY WAS THERE SINKING, fffff.]

[Okay, no, I'm cool. It's cool.]

[...I think I will go for this clock.]

Re: [START]

[hakutaku]

...uh. Uhhhhhhhh. Okay.

[I have no idea where I am but I DON'T LIKE IT. Can I just sit here...]

[HOME]

[dramatispersonae]

[You step into a simple foyer. Sunlight shines through the windows, and the carpet is soft and plush, if a little oddly laid.

Everything seems very, very normal.

Even if there is a random mailbox standing in one corner.

There are two doors! The door to the left very distinctly resembles a fire escape. The door to the right is a plain ol' door, completely unmarked.]

Re: [HOME]

[shednotearsformagic]

[Hmmm, curious.]

[But let's check out what's in this mailbox first.]

[CABIN]

[dramatispersonae]

[The cabin you step inside is a pretty cozy place. It's decorated with soft pink and blue rugs underfoot, colorful walls, and huge mural of the sky (from dawn 'til dawn, rolling through noon and midnight and everything in between) on the ceiling. Against one wall is a soft, comfortable couch, upon which sits a collection of plush toys. Next to the couch is a dirty wooden chest, a trowel, and a tiny, leaky watering can that's been shoddily patched up with bandaids. A writing desk, piled with books and papers, stands opposite the couch.

On the wall are a few framed pictures: Drift, Hazel, River, and Frost. Frost's picture is slightly lopsided. A hand-drawn sketch of Jet is also tacked to the wall, like a poster.

There are only two exits to this room: a bright blue door, closed but smelling invitingly of baked breads and desserts, and a metal door. A keypad and cardslot are set into the wall next to it.]

Re: [CABIN]

[hakutaku]

[blue door smells like food....

fooooooooooooooood.........

to the fooooooooooooooooooood..............]

Re: [CABIN]

[glorious]

[pauses once they're inside, and smiles wide]

Aah...This is a comfortable place.

Re: [CABIN]

[performing]

[baked goods tho]

[but other things]

[but baked goods??]

[but]





[... going to see that wooden chest]

[THE POOL]

[dramatispersonae]

[The grass is springier here, and the air seems somehow lighter. Lazy curls of steam drift above the water, which laps against a shore of sky blue pebbles. The assortment of plants is . . . odd, to say the least. Flourishing rose bushes; a hardy-looking evergreen with mouse-shaped leaves, a small, drooping apple tree; a healthy patch of selenias, etc . . .

Nearby is what looks to be an empty birdbath, which . . . has no basin?! The bowl-shape is there, but there's no bottom; it just goes down and down. There's a bluebird perched on the rim.

And if you look into the water, you might catch a glimpse of something strange . . .]

Re: [THE POOL]

[everfixedmark]

Mm, Aather...

[goes to look into the water obviously, nodding to the bird]

[KITCHEN]

[dramatispersonae]

[You step into a cheerful, homey kitchen. The scent of baking fills the air. All around you, on the countertops and in the cupboards, are ingredients. … You may or may not notice that they have weird labels. Since when was sugar called 'affection'?

A large recipe book is on the counter, and a fridge stands alone against one wall. There are only two doors in this room—the one you just came through, and one against the opposite wall.]

Re: [KITCHEN]

[hakutaku]

[...this kitchen is so beautiful...]

[I mean ( '-') I wanna look at this large recipe book first.]

[ART STUDIO]

[dramatispersonae]

[You step into a mess of paint.

. . . No, really. It's everywhere. Watch your step; it's pretty slippery in here.

It's an art studio. The walls, floors, ceilings—everything is spattered with paint, dry or otherwise. Art supplies litter every available surface, and if you look closely, you may find that they have rather interesting names . . . Or maybe your attention is caught by the cloth-covered canvas and easel in the middle of the room?

On the far wall are two doors, one to the left of the easel, or one to the right. Both are closed.]

Re: [ART STUDIO]

[blackjacked]

[very nearly slipping in a puddle of paint, though he manages to catch himself]

The heck. . .

[gingerly walking over to pick up a tube of paint and inspect that INTERESTING NAMING SENSE]

[THE BLUE PARROT]

[dramatispersonae]

[It looks like a study room, or perhaps an office.

. . . If either of those things came complete with mini-bars and billiards tables, that is! Behind the counter of the bar is yet another door. Other than that, there are bunches of framed pictures lining the walls – all of them depicting people Aoko knows from home. The glass covering Kira's picture (the plaque of which reads "Akako-chan") has been thoroughly smashed.

A computer hums away to itself in a tidy corner, next to a pile of newspapers, and a dressed up Aoko looks up as you enter. She's holding a cue stick, and she isn't smiling.]

Re: [THE BLUE PARROT]

[shednotearsformagic]

[What]

[WHY.]

[Looks between the Aoko and her picture.]

Aoko, why is that..

Are you okay?

[INSECURITY]

[dramatispersonae]

[You're in a small, windowless room. It's small. Windowless. Claustrophobic. Choked voices whisper on the edge of your hearing, seeming to come from all around you.

A battered dresser stands against one wall, and directly opposite to it is a huge, ornate mirror. The mirror is half covered by a (torn, frayed) drape.]

Re: [INSECURITY]

[blackjacked]

[tensing up again, oh god enclosed spaces. AT LEAST IT'S NOT PLUMMETING. .. ]

[tentatively heading towards the mirror to peer at it]

[THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR]

[dramatispersonae]

[You drop down into . . . well, it's so dark that you really can't be sure. What you can be sure of is the gentle rustle and clink of ropes and chains, the puddles of water beneath your feet, and the steady drip drip drop of water droplets from up above. If one of those droplets lands on you, a flicker of determination seeps into your skin, keeping you warm.

If you squint hard enough, you might be able to catch sight of a ladder on the far wall. The only other 'exit' is the darkness.

The ropes and chains are between you and both exits.]

Re: [THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR]

[sinkingship]

Oh, good.

[shifting close to Shion, though, holding onto him tightly]

[CROSSROADS IN THE DARK]

[dramatispersonae]

[You step into a tight, dark space. To your left you can hear a faint yet anxious tick tick tock tick tick tock. To your right you can hear the grind of elevator doors sliding open.]

Re: [CROSSROADS IN THE DARK]

[glorious]

[stooopping once he hears that grinding sound]

[THE DARKNESS]

[dramatispersonae]

[As you follow the sound of ticking, you realize that the darkness is deepening. Shadows shift and twist around you, pressing close, cold and clutching. Something tells you—urges you—to close your eyes.]

[You can hear another sound now. The drip of water, and the clink of chains.]

Re: [THE DARKNESS]

[glorious]

[tightens his grip on Bubble's hand]

...Do you still want to continue to the sound of water?

[THE WARDROBE]

[dramatispersonae]

[Holy shit it's a walk in wardrobe. The shelves and railings are piled high with clothes; mostly Aather uniforms, with a few school uniforms (winter and summer sailor fukus) mixed in for good measure.

Tangled strings crisscross any available space, obstructing your path. The swearing is coming from up ahead.]

Re: [THE WARDROBE]

[blackjacked]

[. . .]

[I should head back and help the others clean up the room, but--]

Hello?

[following the swearing]