* Despite everything, it's still you. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
determinedest) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2018-02-09 07:04 pm
determinedest) wrote in entrancelogs2018-02-09 07:04 pm
look at all that which surrounds me [ open ]
Who: FRISK and YOU and/or TIM and YOU
Where: Mostly outside tbh like just generally gonna be in the woods
When: 2/09 - 2/11
Rating: PG-13; general cw for mental health shit for Tim in particular
Summary: Frisk climbed a mountain. Tim's lost time. Neither of them is particularly okay.
The Story:
[Just kidding starters are in the comments again so I don't spam the log comm lol. Anyway if you want closed starters just smack me here or over at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
arrpee. Also feel free to use either prose or brackets and I'll match you.]
Where: Mostly outside tbh like just generally gonna be in the woods
When: 2/09 - 2/11
Rating: PG-13; general cw for mental health shit for Tim in particular
Summary: Frisk climbed a mountain. Tim's lost time. Neither of them is particularly okay.
The Story:
[Just kidding starters are in the comments again so I don't spam the log comm lol. Anyway if you want closed starters just smack me here or over at
no subject
He's - stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, but he can feel it building in his eyes, behind his lids, cracking in his throat. Like a sob. Not like a sob. There's heat running down his cheeks as he runs, and he begins to cough. He can't keep this up. The dinosaur is tramping closer, ducking down to snap at him. Its oversized face, the positioning of its eyes, all of it makes actually snatching him up a good deal harder than a frightened little boy would expect.
It more succeeds in tossing him roughly through the woodland than actually grabbing him in its jaws. Tim tumbles and rolls, and tries to stand.
Can't.
His lungs are burning.
no subject
He stops. He stops and he makes space between himself and Tim, different angle, different--different something. Distraction. He needs to be a distraction.
Jay faces it.
"Look at me!" He's shaking. He's pulling some stupid, self-sacrificing bullshit and he can't even manage to look composed while he's doing it. "You don't want him. Look at me!"
He reaches down to grab a fallen branch with his free hand, hitting it against the nearest tree trunk with a echoing crack.
"Come on!" His voice cracks.
no subject
He needs to get out. He needs to move, while both the dinosaur and the strange man are distracted.
He can't so much as stand.
bird boy strikes again
Good?
Tim's not moving, Tim's not running, but Jay's going to have to if he doesn't want to get snapped up like Gennaro. He bolts, dropping the stick, and it's only a few seconds before he realizes this plan--not much of a plan really--isn't going to work if he keeps going straight. He weaves, ducking between the trees and forcing the whatever-the-hell-a-saurus to slow down to track him.
Once he's made some significant distance between himself and Tim, he spots a tree--oak, maybe, or shaped like it--with low-hanging branches.
Does he really want to reenact that stupid zombie arson fiasco?
...Why not.
He slides the camera strap down around one wrist and scrambles up as quick as he can, wincing every time the lens hits something.
jesus fucking christ
The nonmoving one is trying not to hack up his lungs while he rolls onto his back, staring dazedly at the grayed-out sky peeking between the canopies, and wondering why the earth is the thing trembling instead of him. Or maybe he's trembling too? It's hard to tell.
His head hurts.
every problem: solvable by climbing a tree
A) He doesn't run out of sturdy branches before he gets out of reach.
B) Tall, dark, and pointy can't climb.
C) Once it gets bored with him, it won't go back for Tim.
D) It'll get bored with him at all.
Once he's high enough to feel confident making stupid decisions, he snaps a flimsy branch off the side of the trunk and chucks it as far as he can. Maybe this thing wants to play fetch.
no subject
It settles instead for ramming its great round head into the trunk repeatedly, in the hopes that it might jostle him loose.
Tim half-rolls to his side, one palm braced against the leaf mulch, choking back the taste of bile working its way up the back of his throat. Get up. Get up.
He gets up.
The strange man is - is up a tree, now, and the dinosaur is screaming at him and trying to get him down, and he can't tell if he's supposed to know this is real or isn't real but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore.
What does matter is that he gets out of here. Fast.
(But what about...?)
(He saved him. Didn't he? He helped him.)
(Does he owe him?)
no subject
Jay slips. His fingers dig into splintering bark and his heart leaps into his throat for an awful, dizzying moment as he scrabbles for purchase. One arm hooks onto a sturdy branch, finally, finally, and the rest of him latches on blindly to anything within reach. It's just in time to keep him from toppling backwards.
Another impact reverberates up the tree and through his bones. He can hear branches snapping high above him. It's like the first thunderstorm of the season, watching the trees bend and groan and knowing he'll be cleaning detritus out of the driveway the next morning.
The tree shakes again, and it snaps him back into focus. He can't keep this up. If that thing doesn't get bored, he will fall, and he's not sure he'll be fast enough to get away when it happens. No, he has to be. He has to.
Even if he isn't, Tim should be long gone by now. Jay hopes he found the tree line.
no subject
And that's what would be expected of him.
He counts down. It's still there. It's still there, and the stranger is just barely holding on.
There's a rock on the ground. He picks it up and hurls it, and it bounces off the monster's spiny hide. It shakes its head to clear it, roars with a parting of needlelike teeth, and rears back - evidently Tim seems like much easier prey.
He darts off in the opposite direction to the rumble of charging footsteps.
no subject
"Tim!" This feels familiar, and he hates it. Jay scrambles down a few branches before launching himself down from the tree.
His knees catch some of the shock like they're supposed to, and he tries to pull into a roll like he's seen in countless dumb action movies, but his hands shoot out to catch himself anyway and he winces as a sharp pain shoots down his left arm. Again. Again.
(At least the camera's alright. That was on his right wrist.)
He pulls his aching arm close to his chest, grits his teeth, and sprints in the exact opposite direction any reasonable person would: toward the dinosaur, and with it, the kid who just interrupted Jay's rescue attempt to launch one of his own.
Maybe they'll wear the dinosaur out. Maybe it won't rip the two of them to shreds. Or maybe it will, and they'll find themselves waking up under a pair of white sheets 24 hours later. At least that way maybe they'd make it back to the mansion. Ha-ha.
no subject
As soon as he comes across a tree with branches low enough, he seizes them as handholds and starts pulling himself upwards, desperately, hand over hand, fear lending his feet the wings necessary to practically rocket up the trunk like a spidery little monkey.
His goal might have been admirable, but all he really did was reverse his role with Jay's.
Excellent.
no subject
He knows he's got to get the dino's attention off that tree. The only question is how. Making a lot of noise? Just points the dinosaur at you. Throwing a rock? Just points the dinosaur at you.
Maybe making noise and running would at least give him some kind of head-start. Best case scenario would be the dinosaur chasing after the noise and losing track of both of them, but he's not that lucky. He's never been that lucky.
Jay reaches up to a low-hanging branch, the end still covered in leaves, and snaps it off with his one remaining good hand. Holding it up like some kind of giant, leafy maraca, he shakes it furiously.
Then he drops it and runs.
no subject
It's real, and it'll devour him. Maybe even literally.
Until there's a loud, angry rustle, and the thunder of retreating steps as the dinosaur apparently grows up with chasing its prey up trees and instead opts to charge, full tilt, after the stranger with the camera.
Tim, for his part, can only stay where he is, clinging to the tree trunk like an oversized koala, breathing hard, either unwilling or unable to let go.
It's real. It's real.
It's real.
Oh, god.
It's real.
no subject
Again, Jay weaves back and forth between the trees, trying his best to ignore the ache in his lungs and the creeping exhaustion pulling at his limbs. First, he has to lead it away. Then, he can worry about losing it. Once that's done, he can backtrack.
...He can backtrack, right?
He's not sure he's still going the same direction. Actually, he's almost positive he's not. Between all the dodging and weaving and the forty-foot-long murderbird breathing down his neck, he's pretty sure he got off-track. It's okay. It's fine. Really, it's fine. If he's lost, then maybe the dinosaur is, too.
Praying that thing's got a lousy turn radius, he doubles back, close to the dinosaur's legs. He just needs to buy himself a few seconds, that's all.
Like Tim before him, Jay dives into the bushes.