1996-07-17 - Memory Dream: A Wrinkle in Time
Once when we were young, we knew each other, but did not know it.
IC Date: 1996-07-17
OOC Date: 2019-09-16
Location: Somewhere
Related Scenes: 2020-01-29 - AJ and Ellie
Plot: None
Scene Number: 3630
It's a gorgeous day. August has been trying hard, really hard, to like gorgeous days again. To savor being outside, feeling the sun, breathing air not recycled through the Portland VA Hospital's HVAC.
It's been harder than he'd thought it would be. A couple weeks out of the hospital and somehow, he's not magically feeling better. Oh sure that first real shower had been nothing short of life-affirming, but now, a few more days on, implants aching and scars all ugly and red, he just feels empty.
He's lying on a blanket under an oak, staring up at the leaves. A half-read book sits next to him. He's got a group therapy session in a couple of hours. It's easy to fall asleep; his watch will beep when he needs to get moving. So he lets himself doze off, mind wandering, body sore.
It is a lazy summer afternoon in Gray Harbor...for most people at least. For twelve-year old Eleanor Lake, it is simply Day 181 since she fell through a mirror in her family's basement at their former house, with her best friend Addie, and was attacked by a creature who haunts her nightmares. It is Day 181 since they escaped, but Day 151 since Addie was diagnosed with Cancer. Her friend doesn't want to see her anymore, blames her for the incident, blamed the incident for her illness. And Eleanor cannot rightly say the creature didn't cause the illness in Addie. He'd poured his darkness down her throat in that devastated, barren wood.
The pre-teen hasn't been doing any of the things one would expect of her over her summer break. She's spent most of it inside, in her room, and far from any mirrors, reflective surfaces, and forests. Her parents are deeply worried, and even moved into a lovely Craftsman on Spruce in the hopes a change of location would help their daughter. The shrinks don't seem to be doing much. She just sits in her room and listens to music and reads all the time. And not just fiction.
She hasn't been sleeping well, and she falls into a doze on her bed, with a book in her hands, one on myths of the Pacific Northwest. Her obsession with strange things has been ever-present since that broken mirror incident. The wounds in her back are healed, but the scars are still fresh.
Sleep comes, gentle and pleasant. For August, it brings a relief from pain, and - for once - his dream seems without nightmares. It is deep and comforting. Eleanor, too, finds a surprising rest in this doze, a surprising peace.
And then, they wake up. For August, he notices two things immediately: He does not hurt. And he's significantly shorter and slighter than he remembers being. He's just on the cusp of his teen years again, wearing one of his favorite outfits from that era. He comes to in a bed of thick, sweet grass which is studded with tiny, bell-like white flowers. While it's not exactly as comfortable as a bed, and his body is a bit damp from where it rests, the sun shining overhead, and the birds chirping, makes for a peaceful, gentle scene despite the bizarre transformation. One other change: around his neck is a slender, golden chain, and on that chain is a golden key.
For Eleanor, it's a little different. She awakens with a small box in her hands. It's made of old, polished wood, and fastened with a golden lock. She is sleeping on a bed of deep red flowers, and her body has crushed their petals to release a subtle, but beautiful perfume. She's dressed in her favorite outfit, and there's a crown of flowers around her hair, although without taking one down or removing the crown, she will not know that they are the same type of blossom, but white rather than red.
The two children are on a sloping field, which leads down towards a crystal blue lake. A few trees dot the landscape, here and there, but it's mostly the kind of rolling meadow that you can see go on forever. Especially when there are no houses, and no signs of humanity except each other to obscure the view.
<FS3> August rolls Composure-4: Success (8 6 4 4) (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Composure-2: Success (7 5 3 2 2 2) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
August makes a sound as he wakes up, wipes at his face. He raises his wrist to check his watch, except, there's no watch. And that wrist is too thin. His whole arm is too thin.
He sits up, adrenaline unloading into his veins. This might not be the war-ravaged body he went to sleep in, but this mind is for sure the one that remembers everything his actual twelve year old self wouldn't have known yet.
He stares around himself, wide-eyed with terror that borders on panic. "Oh, fuck." He takes a few ragged breaths, looks down at himself. Old, ragged, denim jeans. Bad Religion t-shirt. Worn tennis shoes. A threadbare flannel tied around his waist.
He runs his hands over his face, groaning, "Oh my Goooooood." He hasn't noticed that he's not alone.
A face free of makeup, and smattered with freckles, is peaceful in sleep. Then thick lashes flutter and Eleanor's eyes open, bright green in her pale face. She feels a moment of icy panic creeping up her spine, because she was not outside when she fell asleep, but the fragrance of the flowers beneath her, and the ones crowning her head, seem to help her control her fear. She sits up, in a white peasant blouse with green leaves and vines embroidered on the collar and cuffs, green keds, and green denim shorts on her too-long for her age, gangly legs. Her eyes move from the expansive meadow to the box in her hands, and her mouth screws up into a little frown of confusion. She tugs at the lock, and pats herself down, looking for the key.
Moments later, her brain registers that there was someone else in the meadow. A boy, about her age? She gets to her feet slowly, eyes widening, and she calls out, "Hello?" to the boy.
When August sits up, tiny white flowers fall out of his hair. The key swings at his throat. And if he looks around, the grass he's been laying on is browned and dead.
Meanwhile, when Eleanor gets to her feet and shakes herself, the petals that she sheds fall to the ground, and where they land, new, scarlet flowers grow and bloom into riotous color. The box in her hands is warm, as if it's been lying here in the sun for a while. She does not have any key on her!
August yelps at the sound of Eleanor's voice, clambers to his feet and staggers a few steps away from her. He's out of sorts in this shorter, lankier, less-injured body, has almost no idea how to make it work. He crushes some of the white flowers in the process.
He stares at her, hazel eyes wide with fear. He licks his lips, looks her over in the manner of someone sizing someone else up should the need for violence arise. But then he's distracted; his scramble to his feet is making something constrict his throat, and the grass he got up from...
He stares at it a time, seeing other grass, ruined and burned. Shakes his head to clear it. He tugs out the chain and inspects the key hanging from it.
His attention shifts back to Eleanor. "Who are you?" he asks, still leaning back like he's prepared to sprint away from her at top speed if she so much as sneezes.
Eleanor watches the petals fall from her back and arms, and she watches the new flowers bloom where they land. It's like being in a fairy land, of pretty things, and of life and blooming. It is the opposite of the dark, dead woods she was fleeing from half a year ago. Then the boy speaks and she looks back at his way, coppery curls bouncing around her with every move of her head. She looks bewildered more than she is frightened, clutching the warm box in her hands.
"Who are you!?" she challenges back, all bravado, and awkward, pre-teen, 'talking to boys' fumbling. She takes a step or two in his direction, if only to be able to see him a bit better. She digs into the pocket on the front of her shirt for her glasses and puts them on. Oh, definitely about her age, and cute. But is he from here? Or trapped here? Is she?
The key is an old-fashioned style, rounded with only a few teeth. It's definitely not a house key or a car key, or anything August's familiar with from his regular life. It's warm in his fingers.
Overhead, the both of them are bathed in warm sunlight...but curiously, there's no SUN. It feels like noon, or maybe early afternoon, but although the light is bright and clear, it doesn't seem to have any source. There are clouds, though. A few wispy clouds are over that bright, beautiful lake, and the shadows can be seen on the water, drifting.
The response comes naturally, almost as if ten years of high school and war had never transpired. "I asked first," August says. And then regrets it, because what is he, twelve? Oh...right. He does seem to be. He even feels twelve.
"Oh my God this can't be happening." He runs his hands through his unruly, black-brown hair, face screwing up with frustration. Eleanor starts moving towards him, and though every instinct in him screams that he should run, run as far and fast as he can until he wakes up, he stands his ground. She seems as confused as he is. Maybe she's not going to turn into a monster and try to eat him. (That happened at least twice, it got him out of the habit of being friendly to random kids in the Tunnels. They tended to not be kids.)
He notices the box she has, tilts his head. "What's in that?"
Eleanor watches the clouds move, and squints at the lake, her lips pressing together in a tight line for a moment. It's a pensive, concerned look that no 12-year-old girl should wear, but it seems at home on her youthful face. She pushes her glasses up on her nose, a habit she will hang on to two decades later, and shuffles her feet to move in the boy's direction. "I don't know how I got here. I was reading in my room at home and then I opened my eyes and I was here," she calls out to him, trying to explain her own confusion.
"This? I have no idea. I don't think it belongs to me. It's locked!" she adds, lifting the item so he can see it. When she gets a few yards from him, she says quietly, "M-My name is Ellie. I think we might be in the bad place. I was here once before. But it didn't look like this at all."
When Eleanor starts to move towards August, he can see that she's leaving a trail behind her: a trail of new flowers, popping up in her footsteps, and then gradually starting to spread. The flowers are gorgeous, as pure and bright as fresh blood, and it looks like she's trailing bloody footprints behind her.
But they're just flowers. This is fine! Look how pretty everything is!
"I was waiting for my therapy session in the park." It sounds weird to August, to hear twelve-year-old him say that. But Eleanor's stammering, her quiet admission, they seem to make something happen to him. A chunk of his fear evaporates. "The bad place," he echoes, watching her closely. "You mean..."
He's twelve, he lacks the words to describe what it was like in Bosnia, and the things he used to see in the Tunnels. (Who is he kidding, he doesn't have them as an adult.) He tries, though. "Where it hurts all the time. Where things aren't what they look like."
A pause, then he says, "AJ. Call me AJ." Something about how he says that suggests to Eleanor it's not his actual name, just some kind of approximation. But it doesn't taste a lie, either. He holds up the key on his necklace. "Maybe this?"
But before he can hand it over for Eleanor to try, he notices the flowers she's trailing behind her. He peers at them, kneels down to get a better look. "What's with your feet?" He checks behind himself to see if he's done the same.
Eleanor isn't looking behind her, so she's not seeing the blood-red petal footprints in her wake. She's more focused on the boy. He looks even more scared than she feels. "Therapy?" she asks, head tilting slightly, sourceless sunshine glinting off her bright red hair. "I get therapy too. Not in a park though, in an office. I hate it. They don't understand anything."
At his explanation of the Bad Place, she nods emphatically. "Sound like the place, AJ. A thing there hurt me, and my friend. We got out, but she's been real sick since then. I'm ok now, except for the scars, but she is going to die. C-Cancer they say, but it isn't. I know it was that Thing that chased us." Her eyes waver in a mix of anger and sorrow.
The question about her feet has her looking down at her keds, and then behind her, at the flowering footprints. "That is really weird. It's like flowers are growing where I walk."
August does not get flowers in his wake. Quite the opposite. Where he's stood, the grass is slowly withering, turning brittle, and dying off. When he lifts the key, light shines off of it...and sticks. It glows, soft but clear, in the summer air. The box grows warm, almost hot, in Eleanor's hands.
"Sometimes it's outside. Sometimes inside--wherever they have space for all of us to talk, and keeps us comfortable, really." It occurs to August this will sound weird to a twelve year old, describing veteran group therapy. She's probably been subjected to a whole slew of adults talking nonsense, especially if it was about the sorts of things he saw at her age. "Yeah, they don't know shit," he says on a sigh.
Her mention of cancer makes him shudder. He stares at the brown patches his feet have left behind. His mind shies from something about that, something he knows and refuses to look at too closely. Instead, he plucks one of the red flowers and gets up, eyeing it. Seeing the crown in Eleanor's hair, he says, "You have some on your head. The white ones."
But the key, now, that's interesting too. His attention wanders to it easily in the manner of a twelve year old used to not sticking with one topic too long. He turns it over in his hands, looks up at the sky, back down at it. "There's no sun. So how is it shining?" He shrugs, pulls the chain over his head. "I guess you could try it? Maybe it'll open the box."
Eleanor blinks at the key and then she makes a small sound. "The box feels like it's getting hotter. Is this like that game where you tell someone if they're getting warmer or colder when they're trying to find something you hid?" She cranes her neck so she can look at his footprints, both brows rising at the sight of the dead grass. It's like she is bringing life and he is taking it. Disturbing.
At the mention of the flowers in her hair, she reaches up to touch the crown of blossoms with a fingertip. "I didn't put those there." She swallows a bit nervously. As he takes the chain off, she shakes her head a little, afraid to touch the key herself. "I think maybe, you should use the key, and I'll hold the box? Everything in here seems to be about opposites or balance. So twos. I think we need to work together," she explains. She's smart, this kid.
August bites his lip, thinking that over. Hotter and colder. Red and white. Growing and dying. He looks from Eleanor's box to the key in his hand. "Okay," he says, and leans over, first to check the box out, then to see if the key will fit. He hesitates a half-second, wondering what might be IN the box, but, well. What else are they going to do, swim in the lake? (No. They're not doing that. Well, he's not doing that.) There's no sun, just weird flowers, grass that August is killing, a lake, and this box and key. He sets to attempting to unlock the box.
The box is very easy to unlock. In fact, as soon as key touches lock, it's sucked away, and it twists itself. The box lid pops open as if it were as light as a feather. Inside, there are...toys. But they're all so jumbled up, it's hard to tell just what's in there without reaching in and prying a few apart.
Ellie holds the box in both hands, trying to keep it steady. She glances towards the lake as well, being as her last name is Lake. But she doesn't want to try to swim in a white blouse with a strange boy.
As the box opens she blinks down at it, trying to make out the chaotic jumble of things inside. "Toys? I can't tell what they are, they're all mixed up," she murmurs.
August's hand jerks back when the key is pulled out of his grip. He braces, ready for something horrible after three years of nothing but, except all that happens is the box opens. No explosions, nothing disastrous. He sighs, relieved, peers down at the toys in the box as well. After a second of trying to tell anything apart he gives up and reaches in to separate a few so they can get a better look at any of them. "They're really jammed in here," he says, brow furrowing.
<FS3> August rolls I Choose You! (6 5 5 4 2) vs A Jumble of Toys (a NPC)'s 5 (8 4 4 2 1 1 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> August rolls I Choose You! (6 6 3 3 1) vs A Jumble of Toys (a NPC)'s 5 (6 5 4 3 3 1 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for August. (Rolled by: Portal)
These toys are really jammed up together, and it takes August a couple of times to get a good grip. It even feels like, somehow, the toys are writhing against his fingers, some of them trying NOT to be chosen, while others are trying to wiggle under his fingers and be taken. He pulls and tugs, and finally, a toy comes loose with a jerk. It rests between his fingers. It's a little toy building! White, with a bright red cross on the front - a pre-reading child's sign that it's a hospital.
It stirs in August's hand. It's growing larger, moment by moment. And heavier!
Ellie reaches in to choose one herself, her eyes moving to the toy building in AJ's hand. "What is that, a hospital?" she asks curiously. When it starts growing larger she yelps. "Put it down somewhere!"
August sets his teeth, yanks the toy out. A chill runs down his spine as he slowly comes to realize what he's holding.
Two things he doesn't like about this situation: one, that the toy is growing, and two, that it's a hospital. The later calls up a visceral reaction, his neck tightening and his stomach trembling when he recognizes that symbol.
Put it down? Oh no, he is chucking it. He throws it away from the two of them, not the least because he's concerned it could keep growing and crush them.
If you want something to grow, then plant it! Apparently that works for hospitals as well as plants. When it gets chucked, it grows rapidly as it tumbles through the air. It flies further than a twelve year old could toss, really, but then it's growing faster than ANYTHING should, and when it lands, it shoots up to cast a long shadow over them. It's a perfect looking little hospital! And the doors are opening. Two nurses, dressed in a child's idea of nursing outfits - all white starch and fancy little hats - walk out in unison. Each of them has a wheelchair that she's pushing before her. The wheelchairs are gleaming chrome. And they have straps.
Identical smiles are aimed at the children. "Hello! It's time for your treatment. We'll get you settled in; just sit down right here." They gesture, at the same time, to the seats of the wheel chairs.
Ellie's eyes go wide as saucers. "Oh hell no, I think maybe we should, you know, run?" She looks down at the box. If everything in it will grow outside of it? She tries to shake the contents out between them and the nurses.
August blanches. "Fuck this." He's about to grab Eleanor's arm and haul her along, but sees what she's trying to do. He tries to help her dislodge a few more things from the box on the off chance one of them is a car, or a motorcycle, or maybe another building to toss in the way.
The first thing to fall out of the box is a small collection of plastic trees. They grow! Oh boy, do they GROW. Within moments, Eleanor and August find themselves in a rapidly expanding forest primeaval, a place of deep, dark shadows and mossy, living trunks. The hospital gleams white in comparison, and sun can be seen there, gleaming off those chairs as the nurses begin to walk steadily towards the treeline. More of what falls out are animals - a dragon immediately begins to snarl and snap as it goes from mouse-size to cat sized to deer-size. It learns to breathe fire, and a long tail of flame chases the children as they run.
Into the dark woods.
Eleanor drops the box as the trees begin to grow. It's what she is so afraid of, the woods. "Oh god, oh god no," she rasps out. She looks like the hospital might be preferable to her. Then there is a dragon breathing fire and she grabs AJ's hand and begins to run. She's athletic, those long legs of hers have been doing track in middle school.
August has a real 'worse, or, better?' moment as the forest springs to life around them, and then a goddamned dragon begins to breath fire. A good deal of his fear transmutes into a pure anger. "I am so fucking tired of this crap!" He shouts it like he expects his voice to be a lot deeper and heavier, but he's twelve so it's neither of those things. It squeaks and cracks, which just makes him angrier.
But, the nurses, and their chairs...and the fire. Eleanor doesn't need to drag much; August is lanky and tall, with a pending growth spurt that will see him at six feet by the time he's seventeen. He grabs one of her hands, runs with her. "The lake. Maybe we can get across the lake."
<FS3> August rolls Athletics (6 6 4 4 2 1) vs Long-Legged Nurses (a NPC)'s 4 (8 6 4 2 1 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> August rolls Athletics (8 8 5 3 2 2) vs Long Legged Nurses (a NPC)'s 4 (7 6 4 2 2 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> Anne rolls Athletics (5 2 1) vs Long-Legged Nurses (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 4 2 1 1)
<FS3> Victory for Long-Legged Nurses. (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Athletics (5 3 3 2 2 1) vs Long Legged Nurses (a NPC)'s 4 (6 5 4 4 4 2)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Long Legged Nurses. (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> August rolls Athletics (8 7 6 6 5 1) vs Long Legged Nurses (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 7 5 3 2)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for August. (Rolled by: Portal)
The children sprint off into the dark woods. The nurses frown in unison. "Children! It's time for your treatment! Don't run away! It only excites the blood!" They start following at a sedate seeming pace, but it eats up ground, and none of the woods seem to stand in their way. The dragon has clawed and flown its way up into the canopy. They can't see it in the shading leaves, but they can hear it roaring overhead. August's legs are long, and he's putting distance between him and the nurse, although it's not as easy as they should.
On the other hand, Eleanor's nurse is catching up with her, stride by stride, her smile wide and toothy. "Eleanor. It's time for your treatment. A transplant! For your frieeeeeend! Come back, so that you can help make her better! You want your friend to get better, don't you?"
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Composure: Great Success (8 7 7 7 6 6 3 1) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
No. Just no. They are not allowed to invoke Addie against her. Not now, not ever. There is no transplant for her friend. They went over all that. Rage wells in the pre-teen and she hangs harder onto August's hand, and tries to run faster, while flinching away from every tree's shadow, for fear of seeing antlers and spines rising in the gloom. "The l-lake, y-yes!"
August keeps a firm grip on Eleanor, determined to drag her along if he has to. "Ignore them! They're lying!" The fact that he's preaching to the choir isn't relevant. He just wants to reinforce Eleanor's resolve to keep running. The lake was this way, right? He sure as hell hopes so.
He peers overhead, mindful of the dragon. A chill runs down his spine. Fire from above. They need to get to the lake.
"Fuck off!" he shouts over his shoulder at the nurses.
<FS3> Dragon (a NPC) rolls 5 (8 6 6 3 2 1 1) vs Running Kids (a NPC)'s 5 (8 7 5 5 4 2 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Dragon. (Rolled by: Portal)
ROAAAAAR
That dragon has gotten a LOT bigger. As they're running downhill, towards the lake, there's a sudden waterfall of fire that penetrates the canopy and bursts before them in a pillar of white heat. Their immediate path is cut off.
"Children," the nurses call sweetly, "Come back! You can't run away from what you deserve. Neither of you! It won't hurt for very long, we prooooomise!" They're right behind, and both of them pull long syringes out of their pockets. "We'll make you feel better!" They're moving to cut off the path to the left and the right, trying to box in the kids. Smiling widely the whole time.
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Physical-2 (8 7 7 5 5) vs Nurse's Grip (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 7 3 2 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: Eleanor)
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Physical-2 (8 8 5 4 2) vs Nurse's Grip (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 6 5 3 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Nurse's Grip. (Rolled by: Eleanor)
Eleanor skids to a halt as the fire bursts in front of them. They can't go that way. But the nurses have made her so angry. So very angry. She turns and holds a hand out towards one of the nurses, and tries to use that newly awakened power of hers. She attempts to yank the syringe out of her hand, but the nurse is too strong and hangs on.
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (8 8 6 4 2) vs Nurse's Grip (a NPC)'s 4 (5 5 4 4 3 2)
<FS3> Crushing Victory for August. (Rolled by: Portal)
August pulls up short at the sight of the wall of fire. Standing there with Eleanor, hemmed in, he's stunned into inaction for several seconds. Until he sees Eleanor do that.
He hasn't tried that before, not on purpose. Grabbing something. He knows he can, or he thinks he can.
Well, it's that, or pick a nurse and barrel into her. Shaking, close to tears, he holds out a hand and whips it to one side, trying to will the syringe out of her grip.
<FS3> Armed Nurse (a NPC) rolls 5 (6 6 4 4 3 2 2) vs Eleanor's Athletics (6 4 4 2 2 2)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Armed Nurse. (Rolled by: Portal)
August is able to get a better grip with his mind on the syringe, and with a mental tug, it zooms out of the nurse's hand and slaps into his palm. It's a massive thing, sort of a nightmare image of a syringe, filled with cloudy liquid and with a needle you could almost use as a straw. Exciting!
Especially when Ellie's nurse takes advantage of the momentary distraction to dart forward and jab the little girl with that big old murder-needle's twin. She depresses the plunger into Eleanor's arm, and whatever she injects burns like fire. It also starts to make Eleanor numb, starting with her burning arm, which feels heavy and clumsy.
The nurse grins. "It won't be long now, sweetie. We'll take you back to the hospital, and you can help your friend!" Her voice is cheery. "It's your fault she'd dying, after all. You should be happy you get a chance to make things better!"
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Composure -3: Success (8 7 5 5 2) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
Eleanor screams when the nurse jabs that massive needle into her arm. She staggers back away from the evil woman and feels the numbing fire in her arm. "A-AJ it burns. It burns. And my arm won't work. Help! Don't let them take me, please!" The words this time, the accusations, cut deep and she feels woozy and sick but she's still on her feet, defiant.
August's brief rush of victory at arming himself crumbles into rage and terror when Eleanor screams. A young girl's scream, he's heard a lot of those, too many, found the remains in burned out buildings and--
He makes a feral sound, like an angry wild animal. "Let go of her!" He launches at the nurse, aiming with that needle and ready to inject whatever the hell is in it. And he might stab her a few times, for good measure, but mostly he's aiming to do to her what she just did to Eleanor.
<FS3> August rolls Melee (8 8 2) vs Evil Nurse (a NPC)'s 5 (8 7 6 4 3 2 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Evil Nurse. (Rolled by: Portal)
August is twelve. He wants to be very scary, but let's face it, he's a little kid, and no size of syringe will help that. The nurse dodges his attempt to stab her, and she gives him a sharp push as he moves past, sending him stumbling towards one of those shiiiiny chairs. "And you, August. Do you think you deserve that lovely, working body? After all the people you failed to save? Tut tut! But don't worry, we'll have that fixed right up, and you'll be exactly as healthy as you deserve to be!"
The straps on the chair rise up and start reaching for him, but he's able to stop himself before he staggers into reach.
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Physical-2 (7 6 5 3 1) vs Nurse's Grip (a NPC)'s 4 (8 5 5 4 4 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Eleanor. (Rolled by: Eleanor)
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (7 5 4 4 1) vs Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (8 8 5 4 3 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for Nurse. (Rolled by: Portal)
Eleanor sees August struggling, and she moves to guide the syringe with the arm that hasn't gone dead on her. Maybe he can make it out of there if she helps. And she stabs the nurse with the syringe with a fevered thought, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. "We're not going with you!" she shouts.
August spent a Luck Point on a re-roll.
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (8 7 6 4 2) vs Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 4 3 2 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for August. (Rolled by: Portal)
August flails, trying to right himself the hell away from that chair and its grabby straps. Oh no, oh fuck no. Her taunts of him letting people die have the highly emabrrassing effect of making him cry, though that just pisses him off more. "Fuck you!" he shouts--screams, really--hammering on the plunger to the syringe as hard as he can.
<FS3> Other Nurse (a NPC) rolls 5 (6 6 6 4 4 3 2) vs Eleanor's Athletics-2 (8 4 3 2)
<FS3> Victory for Other Nurse. (Rolled by: Portal)
The syringe shoots forward and buries itself deep in the first nurse's arm. "Hey! That's not a nice thing to do, young lady," the nurse starts to scold Eleanor - although that creepy smile never falters - and then August shouts and hammers that plunger. "Language, young maaaaaaaaaauuuuuuggggghhhhh!" The nurse starts to scream as the fiery liquid works itself into her veins. "You bad children. Terrible bad children!"
Meanwhile, more quietly, the other nurse has crept up on Eleanor, and her strong arms come around the girl and just pick her up. "My! You are a lively one, aren't you? Well that's okay! The more life, the better!" She giggles happily, and starts running! "I've got you nooooow!" Away from the burning woods, back towards the hospital, leaving her twin nurse and the two chairs to just be...abandoned. Sad. SAD.
Eleanor says, "AJ! RUN!" Ellie shouts to the boy, not wanting him to be trapped here with her. Not wanting to experience another Addie, even if he is a stranger to her. She struggles in the nurse's arms, hissing and kicking and biting like a wild animal in her panic to get away."
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Athletics-2 (8 4 2 1) vs Running Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (8 5 3 3 2 2)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: Portal)
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (8 6 5 3 1) vs Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (6 6 5 2 2 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: August)
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (7 7 6 3 1) vs Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (8 7 6 5 5 1)
<FS3> DRAW! (Rolled by: August)
<FS3> August rolls Physical-3 (8 6 5 3 3) vs Nurse (a NPC)'s 4 (6 5 4 1 1 1)
<FS3> Marginal Victory for August. (Rolled by: August)
Oh, August is going to run alright. Run right after that nurse who just picked up Ellie and took off with her, cackling like some sort of monster from a Grimm Fairy Tale towards that creepy fucking hospital. He is not letting her get taken into that hellhole.
But how can he stop the nurse? She's a lot bigger than him, and fast. Thinking of earlier, with the syringe, August scrambles around for something. Ah ha. Her shoe. He yanks on it, trying to trip her.
Eleanor's struggles slow the nurse down, although she's not able to quite break free. "Come, nngh, on, girlie! Stop your fussing! You selfish little thing. You want your friend to die, don't you? Did you always want her to die? Is that why you led her to the monster?" She's just starting her chiding, when there's a sudden stumble. "Ooopise!" She cries out, and goes face first into the tangled roots of the trees. In doing so, Eleanor spills out onto the ground, bruised and shaken, but unbroken. The nurse flails. "Just...wait a moment...girlie! I'll be up in just a second!"
Eleanor scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, and runs towards August. "Go! GO!" she shouts, hoping the numbing doesn't go further or she'll not be much good at doing so herself.
August pelts up to Eleanor, grabs the arm that wasn't jabbed. "Oh we're going alright." Exhausted and shaking with fear, he tries to sort out a way around the wall of fire as the race in that direction again, steering wide of the chairs and the other nurse.
<FS3> August rolls Athletics: Great Success (8 8 8 7 6 3) (Rolled by: August)
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Athletics-2: Success (6 5 2 1) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
August may be tired and scared, but he's also Highly Motivated. He grabs Eleanor by the arm, and they take off running. Luckily, the fire was a column, so once they swing wide, they're able to run past it, with the nurses trying to get themselves sorted out again. They leave the crackling of the flames behind, and the nurses' cheery voices fall behind.
But the woods are dark and deep, the ancient trunks rising thickly around them, festooned with green and brown moss that seems to crawl of its own volition, so slowly that you can only tell it's moving by looking away and then back again. The slope is downward, so maybe it's still heading to the lake? Eleanor's arm is burning, and her body feels heavy and listless. A nap would be nice. But it's not getting any worse. Yet.
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Composure: Good Success (8 8 7 6 5 4 3 1) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
Eleanor feels the woods closing in on her. They terrify her so deeply, she can't find enough air in her lungs to speak as they race along. She can only trust the boy to lead her out of the darkness to that lake. She wants to lie down, to rest, but not until she knows he's safe. She couldn't save Addie. She can't watch someone else get hurt.
August keeps leading them down, hopeful this will get them to the lake, or at least a river leading into the lake. A river they can follow. (Where, in this sunless, senseless place? Well, he'll worry about that later.) His attention's divided a few ways; keeping an eye on Eleanor and her ability to walk, warily eyeing the mosses and lichens, and peering overhead for the dragon. "I've done a lot of hiking," he says, because he's still goddamned terrified and needs some sound. "With my aunt. But there's no sun here so I don't know if this is the right way. Hopefully, though."
<FS3> August rolls Wits (8 7 6 2 2) vs Is This The Right Way? (a NPC)'s 3 (6 5 4 4 3)
<FS3> Victory for August. (Rolled by: Portal)
August leads them through the forest. He remembers roughly the right direction, and the downward slope helps, even if the landscape is terrifyingly different. If they look behind them, they can see that it won't be hard to track them - Eleanor's tracks are sprouting blood red flowers, still, and there's an almost glowing trail that picks their way through the forest. But they ARE going the right direction, and the trees are thinning. They can smell water, hear the faint lapping.
In the distance, the nurses cry, "You can't run forever, kids! We're going to come and get you. It's tiiiiiiime for treeeeeaaaatment!"
They break into the lake shore. The sunlight sparkles across the water, and they can suddenly see blue skies and summer breezes. It's bright and cheery.
The dragon is REALLY obvious as it twists in the sky above them.
<FS3> Eleanor rolls Alertness: Success (6 6 5 4 4 2 1 1) (Rolled by: Eleanor)
<FS3> August rolls Alertness: Good Success (7 7 7 5 5 2 2) (Rolled by: August)
Both children notice that the shining surface of the lake doesn't reflect the sky. Instead, it's reflecting a scene familiar to each of them: August sees his parents' house under the dozy sun. Eleanor sees her bedroom with its familiar, comforting bed.
"It's home!" Eleanor rasps out, struggling with the fatigue from the injection, the fear, and the running. She stops at the water's edge and looks at AJ. "Thank you, for coming back for me," she says quietly. "Please be safe." Then she shoves him towards the water.
August sighs, squinting up at the dragon, behind them at the trail of flowers. "I thin--fuck!" He yelps in surprise as Eleanor unceremoniously shoves him in, flails a second. Fortunately it's not very deep right here, and he can stand on the bottom. So he's just soaked. "Come on, you too!" He looks out over the lake. "Maybe we need to swim down to the bottom?"
It does get deeper farther on. Deeper. And darker. So much darker.
On the other hand, there's a dragon overhead that's just noticed the two tasty children. It roars in triumph, and starts to dive down onto them, claws extended, and flames licking at its open mouth.
"Dive! Dive!" She swims out and takes a deep breath before she dives down as deep as she can go, praying the fire can't reach.
August sucks in a breath and dives under, reaching for Eleanor's hand in the process. She can't use one of her arms after all, and who knows if she can see for shit down here. He at least doesn't need glasses.
They dive. The water enfolds them quickly. It's cold and heavy, and it exercises its own gravity on their young bodies, yanking them down into the dark. Their hands are entwined, clinging to each other - but the deeper they're pulled, the harder that is to maintain. Eventually, skin slides away from skin, leaving only a cold, empty sensation in their hands. The darkness closes in, the water sliding down their nose, worming its way with dark intent down their throat.
Just as they start to choke, they awaken. August is no longer a child, and all his pain has returned. Eleanor? Well, she is who she is. But the scent of scarlet red flowers clings to her, vivid, lasting until her next shower. Her numb arm and the nasty bruise from where she was stuck? Well, that's hers to try and explain away.
Eleanor holds AJ's hand as tight as she can, watching him with those wide green eyes behind her glasses, as her coppery hair flows about her, suspended in the water. She will not forget him. She will look for him, for many years, searching Gray Harbor's records for an AJ, her age, not realizing he is actually someone a decade older than she is. She will be an awkward teen, she won't date much. Part of her will always be waiting for the boy who came back for her, who wouldn't leave her behind, who held her hand in the darkest woods and the deepest water.
Ironically, she won't recognize him when she meets August more than two decades later, because he never goes by AJ. Maybe a relative will slip, and trigger the memory. And maybe then, if she shares it, he will realize they knew each other back then. Two children in a meadow, chased by dragons and nurses.
She wakes up with his name on her lips, and a need to hide her injury from a family that simply does not understand about the Bad Place.
August tries to hold on to Eleanor's hand, determined not to let go. Not like under that building, with all those people dying, crushed by pain and terror. But no, just like then, she slips from his fingers like water.
He wakes up under the oak tree with a start, sucking in a breath of cold, damp air. It's dark and humid; heavy clouds have rolled in, a summer thunderstorm ruining the otherwise idyllic afternoon. He checks his watch, panic briefly making him sweat, but no, he has fifteen more minutes until his session. Plenty of time to get there.
He takes a minute to lie there on the blanket, staring up at the oak leaves. He's had dreams about Bosnia before, but they were usually more direct and obvious. This had been weird and different, more like his imagination in his childhood. Even now finer details were escaping him, just like they would back then.
Ellie, he thinks. Had he known an Ellen or an Elizabeth in the military? Not that he could remember.
He hears the pit pat of rain beginning to fall, sighs heavily and heaves to his feet, wincing as his back protests this treatment. Twenty-two years old in a fifty-year old body. Go fucking figure.
He shoves the book (No Voyage) in his pocket, folds up the blanket and uses it as an ad hoc umbrella on his way back to his car.
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