Lyle Dylandy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
live_ringer) wrote2010-07-22 03:17 pm
live_ringer) wrote2010-07-22 03:17 pm
Entry tags:
⇐ OOC: Memory-003
Gene whistled tunelessly as he tossed his bag of Scavenger's brick-a-brack into the corner of his flat. Usually he was a touch more organized than that, but today he had something he wanted to get to. Something important.
He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a memory crystal, taking a moment to study how the afternoon light played off of it. It was one he had received in the parade thrown by the CPA. A bit belatedly, since the bomb that contained it had gone off some time later. And even then, he had waited a bit more, simply because the surprise of the explosion had prompted him to squirrel the little trinket away in the Yard that day. No use in drawing attention to such things, after all.
Gene made his way over to the bed, plopped down, set aside the crystal, and yanked his gloves off. With that little obstacle out of the way, he reached out to lightly touch the crystal.
"Here goes nothing."
-----
He couldn't see anything. He couldn't hear anything. His legs were... shorter? Or was that all of him? He could tell that his hair was certainly shorter as a light breeze brushed it against the back of his neck just above his shoulders. Usually it went past them. An earlier time, then, though who knew by how much. The body felt bigger than when he'd been a child, smaller than when he'd been a teen.
Whatever the case, he did feel that he was moving. Walking at a leisurely pace, with the loose fabric of his pants swishing against itself. Maybe even wandering idly, since he felt himself pause, swivel around, then start moving in a direction perpendicular to where he was. Unable to latch onto much else, he started to identify the scents in the air: clover, something piny, and most notably fresh, warm pretzels.
Then everything changed.
The air shifted: hot, sharp, sudden, urgent and blasting against him. He stumbled, was knocked off his feet into a harsh skid across what felt like concrete, and he felt himself cover his face with one arm as small bits of debris pelted him. He couldn't hear, so he couldn't tell if his ears were ringing, but they hurt and he could still feel them vibrating. The arm was lowered as he lifted himself and turned toward the source of whatever it was. His heart started hammering like it was about to leap out of his chest, so he could only guess that it was a shocking sight. He felt his eyes go impossibly wide, making them all the more vulnerable to whatever was falling and stinging them. ...Ash. It was ash. He knew that smell as well as any other.
Slowly, he moved forward in a stilted, almost drunken way. The way that those in shock moved. He stopped for a very long moment as the smoke filled his lungs and the taste of ash grew heavy on his tongue. Down to his knees he dropped and he threw his head back as harsh, soundless cries made his throat raw. Tears were streaming down his face; he was sobbing, choking on his own mucous and the ash in the air until he could barely breathe. But he couldn't stop. His too-small body was racked with shuddering as he felt himself screaming what felt like gibberish, too sloppy to make out any real words.
-----
As soon as it began, it was over, and Gene felt himself jolt forward with shock as all his senses were returned to him. He looked around his flat, wild-eyed and desperate to convince himself he wasn't there anymore. Not that knowing he was in Edensphere made him feel much better, as what few memories he had of the Fire came back to him, unbidden. It felt so similar and he was just... overwhelmed. Weighted down with a sense of helplessness and that horribly anxious feeling that came with knowing something was wrong... but not being able to tell what.
Gene breathed out a ragged sigh and rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to pull himself together, then blinked as he realized his cheeks were wet on this side of reality as well. Jesus. He hadn't even realized he had been doing that. Had he been trying to scream, too? If so, he hoped nobody heard. He half-heartedly scrubbed his face dry, then let himself fall backward, heavily landing on the bed. He debated whether to analyze the memory or to try falling asleep to forget it. The first option wasn't appealing right now and he knew better than to believe he could manage the second.
((ooc: 3 senses memory: Touch, sound, taste. The memory covers the detonation of the bomb that took out a shopping center and 3/5 of the Dylandy family. There isn't much on this particular moment, though the general gist is explained here and there. There a few moments of it shown in the first Season 2 opening, particularly the scene in this memory. I could link the whole opening, but these two pictures sum it up fairly well. There is also a scene in S2, ep. 9 that covers it... but I believe that's actually Neil being shown (it's never entirely clear).))
He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a memory crystal, taking a moment to study how the afternoon light played off of it. It was one he had received in the parade thrown by the CPA. A bit belatedly, since the bomb that contained it had gone off some time later. And even then, he had waited a bit more, simply because the surprise of the explosion had prompted him to squirrel the little trinket away in the Yard that day. No use in drawing attention to such things, after all.
Gene made his way over to the bed, plopped down, set aside the crystal, and yanked his gloves off. With that little obstacle out of the way, he reached out to lightly touch the crystal.
"Here goes nothing."
-----
He couldn't see anything. He couldn't hear anything. His legs were... shorter? Or was that all of him? He could tell that his hair was certainly shorter as a light breeze brushed it against the back of his neck just above his shoulders. Usually it went past them. An earlier time, then, though who knew by how much. The body felt bigger than when he'd been a child, smaller than when he'd been a teen.
Whatever the case, he did feel that he was moving. Walking at a leisurely pace, with the loose fabric of his pants swishing against itself. Maybe even wandering idly, since he felt himself pause, swivel around, then start moving in a direction perpendicular to where he was. Unable to latch onto much else, he started to identify the scents in the air: clover, something piny, and most notably fresh, warm pretzels.
Then everything changed.
The air shifted: hot, sharp, sudden, urgent and blasting against him. He stumbled, was knocked off his feet into a harsh skid across what felt like concrete, and he felt himself cover his face with one arm as small bits of debris pelted him. He couldn't hear, so he couldn't tell if his ears were ringing, but they hurt and he could still feel them vibrating. The arm was lowered as he lifted himself and turned toward the source of whatever it was. His heart started hammering like it was about to leap out of his chest, so he could only guess that it was a shocking sight. He felt his eyes go impossibly wide, making them all the more vulnerable to whatever was falling and stinging them. ...Ash. It was ash. He knew that smell as well as any other.
Slowly, he moved forward in a stilted, almost drunken way. The way that those in shock moved. He stopped for a very long moment as the smoke filled his lungs and the taste of ash grew heavy on his tongue. Down to his knees he dropped and he threw his head back as harsh, soundless cries made his throat raw. Tears were streaming down his face; he was sobbing, choking on his own mucous and the ash in the air until he could barely breathe. But he couldn't stop. His too-small body was racked with shuddering as he felt himself screaming what felt like gibberish, too sloppy to make out any real words.
-----
As soon as it began, it was over, and Gene felt himself jolt forward with shock as all his senses were returned to him. He looked around his flat, wild-eyed and desperate to convince himself he wasn't there anymore. Not that knowing he was in Edensphere made him feel much better, as what few memories he had of the Fire came back to him, unbidden. It felt so similar and he was just... overwhelmed. Weighted down with a sense of helplessness and that horribly anxious feeling that came with knowing something was wrong... but not being able to tell what.
Gene breathed out a ragged sigh and rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to pull himself together, then blinked as he realized his cheeks were wet on this side of reality as well. Jesus. He hadn't even realized he had been doing that. Had he been trying to scream, too? If so, he hoped nobody heard. He half-heartedly scrubbed his face dry, then let himself fall backward, heavily landing on the bed. He debated whether to analyze the memory or to try falling asleep to forget it. The first option wasn't appealing right now and he knew better than to believe he could manage the second.
((ooc: 3 senses memory: Touch, sound, taste. The memory covers the detonation of the bomb that took out a shopping center and 3/5 of the Dylandy family. There isn't much on this particular moment, though the general gist is explained here and there. There a few moments of it shown in the first Season 2 opening, particularly the scene in this memory. I could link the whole opening, but these two pictures sum it up fairly well. There is also a scene in S2, ep. 9 that covers it... but I believe that's actually Neil being shown (it's never entirely clear).))
