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entrancelogs2017-01-16 09:59 am
nascensibility) wrote in entrancelogs2017-01-16 09:59 am
[OPEN] Do you see the story?
Who: Evelyn O'Connell & YOU
Where: The Oasis
When: Duration of the event, Jan. 13-16
Rating: PG-13
Summary: We live as we dream - alone. While the dream disappears, the life continues painfully.
The Story:
The Camp
[She knew it by the smell before she even opened her eyes.
Sand and arid weather, the familiar creak of tent ropes lashed to wooden stakes, the grease in the equipment and raw leather. For several stunning moments Evelyn actually hoped that she was home, in such a way that everything - everything, from Wonderland to Imhotep's return to Alex's kidnapping to dying - had been a terrible, long dream. Even that is a hope too far, so unlikely as to be untenable. Once the tent flap is open, once she sees the inelegant sprawl of a dig site and the confused faces of the other residents, the outskirts of a jungle that claimed her life, she knows. Once the initial delirious nature of the reintroduction settles, she too picks up a pack and ventures into the heart of darkness.]
The Jungle
[The first couple of days are an unpredictable mess and she expected as much, people venturing in and out of minor alliances and the safety of small groups, preferring their friends and close associates to a community-wide coalition. It isn't their fault, and what could she tell them? What could she say that would be believed, that wouldn't be discarded as being overly concerned with the welfare of others who would rather take care of themselves?
It is with a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach that Evelyn does her best to move between the groups, her quiet mistaken for apathy, her familiarity with the terrain largely unnoticed. When they pass through the small valley pitted with bodies and tall grass she thinks of the inevitable thunderstorm, when the devilish little pygmies come she picks up a blunt instrument and runs with the best of them.
Fighting never felt so freeing, wild-eyed with bared teeth and an eagerness for the hunt, little challenge compared to the seasonal sacrifice
of a bull hippo in the water, red staining the river. Strikes crack like the flail and she laughs. She laughs.
They creep closer into the centre of the oasis with an agonising slowness, for it was written that she should be loyal to the nightmare of her choice.]
The Pyramid
[While her dreams have continued in full force she notices the sleeplessness of other residents, makes to ask them of their nightmares and what they see, if there is any similarity to her own. Pointless suffering born of her own past and unusual personality traits manifesting themselves in the people around her like so many foreign languages all spoken at once, perplexing and intriguing in turn, mitigating the effects of lives unseen.
Oil lamps burning hot in alabaster halls so similar to those in the charnel house of the Scorpion King, not so different from Philae
but for the association to the Lord of Embalming, whose dues must be paid. Sandals brushing stone floors, music and laughter in the distance -
Father's evening revelries, the mistresses of the God-King entertaining him with juggling and dance. She swallows bile.
She swallows blood.
It takes Evelyn a full hour to cross the courtyard into the pyramid, flanked by adamantine statues of jackals, guardians of the dead. She loiters too long on the edge in a dithering manner so unlike her, more plagued by the memory of what once stained this unholy ground than what they might find inside the walls of the tomb. Eventually she urges others in, knows that dwelling will do no good when the sky grows dark and lightning crackles overhead.]
Where: The Oasis
When: Duration of the event, Jan. 13-16
Rating: PG-13
Summary: We live as we dream - alone. While the dream disappears, the life continues painfully.
The Story:
The Camp
[She knew it by the smell before she even opened her eyes.
Sand and arid weather, the familiar creak of tent ropes lashed to wooden stakes, the grease in the equipment and raw leather. For several stunning moments Evelyn actually hoped that she was home, in such a way that everything - everything, from Wonderland to Imhotep's return to Alex's kidnapping to dying - had been a terrible, long dream. Even that is a hope too far, so unlikely as to be untenable. Once the tent flap is open, once she sees the inelegant sprawl of a dig site and the confused faces of the other residents, the outskirts of a jungle that claimed her life, she knows. Once the initial delirious nature of the reintroduction settles, she too picks up a pack and ventures into the heart of darkness.]
The Jungle
[The first couple of days are an unpredictable mess and she expected as much, people venturing in and out of minor alliances and the safety of small groups, preferring their friends and close associates to a community-wide coalition. It isn't their fault, and what could she tell them? What could she say that would be believed, that wouldn't be discarded as being overly concerned with the welfare of others who would rather take care of themselves?
It is with a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach that Evelyn does her best to move between the groups, her quiet mistaken for apathy, her familiarity with the terrain largely unnoticed. When they pass through the small valley pitted with bodies and tall grass she thinks of the inevitable thunderstorm, when the devilish little pygmies come she picks up a blunt instrument and runs with the best of them.
of a bull hippo in the water, red staining the river. Strikes crack like the flail and she laughs. She laughs.
They creep closer into the centre of the oasis with an agonising slowness, for it was written that she should be loyal to the nightmare of her choice.]
The Pyramid
[While her dreams have continued in full force she notices the sleeplessness of other residents, makes to ask them of their nightmares and what they see, if there is any similarity to her own. Pointless suffering born of her own past and unusual personality traits manifesting themselves in the people around her like so many foreign languages all spoken at once, perplexing and intriguing in turn, mitigating the effects of lives unseen.
but for the association to the Lord of Embalming, whose dues must be paid. Sandals brushing stone floors, music and laughter in the distance -
Father's evening revelries, the mistresses of the God-King entertaining him with juggling and dance. She swallows bile.
She swallows blood.
It takes Evelyn a full hour to cross the courtyard into the pyramid, flanked by adamantine statues of jackals, guardians of the dead. She loiters too long on the edge in a dithering manner so unlike her, more plagued by the memory of what once stained this unholy ground than what they might find inside the walls of the tomb. Eventually she urges others in, knows that dwelling will do no good when the sky grows dark and lightning crackles overhead.]
pyramid~
And, in his usual manner, he has not been bereft of altercations with the locals.
When he finds Evelyn, the sleeves of his shirt have been torn by something a little more vicious than errant branches, and his revolver has become a permanent resident in his hand. He spots her from a ways off and jogs across the courtyard to her, noting the way she idles - unlike her, a person who always moves with such purpose.
His hand comes up to her elbow when he's close, a light touch that's both a reassurance and a question. Pyramids. He's read about those.]
This one of yours, sweetheart?
sob
...Dan.
[It's soft and weary, but unmistakable recognition.]
Yes, this... [Is where it happened. But he doesn't know, does he? She's never said.] ...this is mine. I'm sorry for wandering.
;;
Dan puts his arms around her and kisses her forehead where her hairline dips into its widows peak. He glances at the pyramid and narrows his eyes against the glare.]
No need t' be sorry, Evie. [He tells her, as he always does, but there is no warm bed and no comfortable sheets to lead her back to in this place.
His voice quiets, and he looks at her.]
Whatcha doin' out here?
no subject
[Tell him? No, she can, she's just mildly terrified of what it means to tell him, to confess that she's anticipated coming to the pyramid for the last couple of days with truly abominable anxiety. It is one thing to remember it as it happened in her nightmares, to think back on it with a sigh while working in the library: it is another thing entirely to be confronted by everything exactly as it was.
Caught in the jungle, fleeing the damned pygmies, feeling the oppressive dread increase as she takes zigzagging steps to the ziggurat in the centre of the oasis.]
This... [She extends a hand out from the cracks in his embrace, stony-faced and in tight control when her voice evens when she says:] I came to see it. This spot. I was- This is where I was standing when-
[Evelyn pulls away from Dan, moving several feet away.]
Here. Jonathan, my brother, he was here. And Rick- Rick and Alex were between the pillars over there, Alex had- he was wearing something that could only be removed within the confines of the temple or it would kill him and I was there.
[She points to Dan's boots.]
When I died.
no subject
... the bottom drops out of his stomach, at the same time as it does an uncomfortable, nauseating flip and washes ice-cold through his entire body. He takes a smart step back. He doesn't say anything, not even 'oh', he just frowns as he processes this new and unsettling piece of information for several moments, looking at the ground like he expects to see blood on the sand.]
You died. [He says, as if confirming it to himself that he had heard those words.
It doesn't cross his mind to think that she should have told him this before. She's alive in front of him now, but if she died here... Dan is intelligent enough to know what that means.
He closes some distance between them and takes her hand, squeezing it gently.]
Y' really wanna hang around here?
no subject
No - it shouldn't be, it's her life (death) and she can volunteer what she wants, when she wants. In the past she has been so much more open but it never seemed relevant, never seemed important. Easier to dwell on the now.]
I've never been inside the pyramid before, [she confesses, one hand moving to rest over the scar beneath her blouse, etched into the skin of her stomach.] I never got there. I don't know what's inside.
no subject
[Still with his hand around hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles over the back of her hand, he looks up at the pyramid and squints slightly against the brightness of it. It doesn't make much sense to him, a structure like this, but it must mean something to the people who built it.
He isn't hurt. He's surprised, and worried for her, but not hurt. It was never his right to know something that had always been only hers to tell, and he can only be-- not glad, not grateful-- honoured that she told him at all.]
Y' wanna take a look? [Dan does, but he isn't going to leave her out here by herself for the sake of adventuring.]
no subject
Touch is grounding. He isn't leaving her. He wouldn't dare.]
I think we have to, [Evelyn informs him quietly, squeezing Dan's fingers.] I keep having this- pull, like I'm supposed to be there. I'm just afraid of what we might find.
no subject
Don't worry. 'M not gonna let anythin' happen t' you.
[It isn't a promise he can keep but it is one made regardless.]
If y' feel like yer supposed t' be there... let's see what all the fuss is about.
no subject
She trusts her husband to have taken care of Alex, to have kept an eye on Jon. She trusts him not to forget her, she trusts that they got home safely.
Evelyn steps over the bloodstain she knows is there but cannot see, nodding to no one in particular and following after Dan with the resigned expression of a person being led to the gallows.]
This is the temple of the Scorpion King, [she tells him, her steps careful.] In...another life, I protected his bracelet. It was sacred, it was my responsibility.
no subject
[The sand here feels different. It isn't like the wide, dusty expanses of the Mojave desert. Here, the sand is soft and they leave twin sets of prints behind them as they approach the base of the pyramid. Dan finds himself leaning back to look up, following the line of the face in front of them.
From so close, it looks as if it simply rises vertically.
Then, the shade falls over them, and he looks back to Evie again.]
Hey... you okay? We don't hafta do this.
no subject
The god heard his plea and created this place in his time of need, as well as the power to destroy his enemies.
[There is a long pause as she stops briefly, frowning at the insignia stamped into the wall. The same scorpion twisted into a cartouche, flanked by reeds and water.]
...No, we need to.
[She's steeling herself and he can probably tell by the set of her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw. Evelyn told herself when she woke up here that she wouldn't let it wash over her like so many bad dreams, that she would keep her head above water if not for her own sake, then for the sake of others.
Their boots brush sandstone and in its early days the pyramid must have been more impressive to behold.]
no subject
He files the name away in the back of his mind for future reference. Anubis.
She's forcing herself into this, he's sure, but he rubs her shoulder encouragingly. The moment she wants to leave, they're out of there, and he doesn't think he has to say that to assure her of it. His voice is gentle, accent muted as he speaks.]
Okay. I'll follow your lead. Let's go.
no subject
Once they step past the threshold there is a strange calm about her, similar to the complacency she exhibits when he finds her sleepwalking. Evelyn does not part from him where their hands meet, but she smooths her other over the inscriptions on the walls as if remembering them.
Seeing them once, somewhere.]
I feel as though I've been here, [she murmurs, fingertips lingering over the ancient figures.] Though I do not remember when.
no subject
The inscriptions on the walls mean nothing to him. Pictures, no doubt symbolic in some way, but any story he could make out of them would be entirely conjecture. Evelyn is the expert here and yet...]
... What's it say?
[He trusts that she'll know. When it comes to diving headlong into danger and monsters, Dan can easily take the lead, but this? This is her area of expertise.]
no subject
[Evelyn replies, as if Dan would know the ancient script, as if he could tell what it means. Her fingertips linger on the arachnid with the pincers, its claws carved into stone and its tail curled up to defend itself.
Her stomach turns, and she looks to him.]
..."this way to Scorpion King."