dramatispersonae | breeze's heart

[huh...getting a closer look at the gazebo and the rope hanging from it]

[ The rope is tied like a noose, but you get the sense that it's meant to be more of a tether. The rope is frayed in places, and it looks like there's some dried blood as well. Maybe from something rubbing against it? ]

[...cautiously poking the rope-noose-tether.]

[ It hits you all at once, and even though you know it's only a memory, it feels like it's happening... and happening... and happening.

You're tied to this rope, tied by the neck like an animal. There are other kids with you, some crying, some begging, some silent. Hours pass, days. Food comes less and less often. Sometimes the boy who comes to feed you mocks and taunts you; sometimes he hits you; sometimes he just throws the food down in front of you.

Eventually food stops coming altogether. You wait, and wait... You're so hungry... Eventually you resort to eating some of the weeds that are growing up between cracks in the concrete. You think you'll probably die here.

You hate them. You hate all of them. ]

[...oh my god.]

[hesitating a moment, then looks back down at the concrete. are there any weeds there?]

[ There are some weeds poking up, yep. ]

[...plucking as many as he can, starting from those furtherest from the rope-teether noose, then placing his baggie of roast pigeon meat next to the railing with the weeds on top.]

I don't think weeds are that good for you, but I don't know if the meat's going to be enough...Better to be safe if we're trying to help you regain strength. And maybe we can get the rope loose too...

[looking over the knot before moving to try and loosen it]

[ The knot can be loosened, though it might take a minute. ]

[going to focus on loosening that knot for a minute then]

[ Congratulations, now you have your very own bloody rope. ]

[...just what i always wanted...]

[setting it down for a moment to take a look at the inside of the gazebo]

[ The inside looks pretty standard, with nothing to really draw your attention. However, as soon as you turn your back to the rest of the courtyard, you hear the crunching of footsteps on gravel behind you. ]

[--turning around immediately]

[ You turn and see a teenage boy walking toward you, maybe fifteen years old. He's got blondish hair and a shark's grin (and a shark's dead eyes, for that matter), but the most striking thing about him is that one of his arms isn't an arm at all. It's a ten foot long tentacle. ]

[glancing back behind, is there another way out from the gazebo?]

[ There's another exit directly across from where you went in, but you'll have to loop around to get back to the front of the building, because that huge gray wall is blocking off whatever else might be in that direction. ]