milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When Ava wakes up with her cheek to the chill floorboards, for a moment she knows just where she is.

(good to know we're somewhere so historical)

Then she comes more fully awake, and sits up with a start.

The room is big and dim, lined with rusting bed frames, and she has never been here before in her entire freaking afterlife. There is only one door. She sees no immediate danger-- and there's something written on the nearest wall.

Slowly, Ava gets to her feet (she's barefoot, in her pajamas) and squints into the murk.

DON'T LOOK OR IT TAKES YOU

Don't look? At what? Either way, casual observation seems to indicate it's a little too late.

All her warnings come a little too late.

"You're dead," she whispers to the air. She means it to be vindictive; it comes out uncertain.

Ava shuffles towards the door, careful over the floorboards.

"You're dead," she tries again, hoarse with sleep.

"Or this'd be really funny."

[ooc: not plotlocked per se, but hit me up before tagging! artistformerlyknownas at gmail dot com.]

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Take the advice.
The hospital is utterly silent, like no one has been there for many, many years.

Ava listens at the door, but all she can hear is her own breathing.

She hesitates.

Experience has taught her that when you wake up in a strange, shabby building and you don't know how you got there, you're going to have to deal with hostilities from some quarter or other. She casts around the room for something she can use as a weapon.

(Technically she can kill with her mind.

But a couple of things around the bar lately have shown they're not impressed by that.)

A shadow moves across the wall.

It passes over Ava's back.

She stiffens.

"You know," she murmurs.

"I've kinda been here, done that, bought the t-shirt on getting kidnapped like this."

She's scared to move. But she's got to move.

Ava lunges for the door.

With a creak, it swings open, revealing a hall lined with more doors.

Ava slams the door behind her and starts to walk as rapidly are she dares. She's keeping half an eye on the floor; she's not convinced she can get tetanus, but she's not about to risk it.

Somewhere on this fucking floor there's gotta be a way out.

"Actually," she mutters.

"I never did get a t-shirt."

The hallway seems to stretch on and on...
and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.

She's seen this before.

In the firmament, the unending black of Arashmaharr, which won't drop you into the void provided you don't think about it too hard. At the Castle Terminus, closer to the end of everything.

Let me out.

She doesn't say it. She doesn't say anything.

She keeps walking.

Behind her there's the crash of breaking glass.

Part of her doesn't want to turn around. It's a trick.

Ava sets her back to the nearest wall (not door) and turns her head sharply to follow the sound.

(Does she summon something, or doesn't she?

It didn't help her before.)

darkness there and nothing more

"Oh, that's cute."

Saying it out loud should make her feel more assured, but it doesn't.

Not at all.

Let me out let me out let me OUT--

Ava clenches her hand into a fist.

She's pretty sure walking won't do any good, but she starts again.

The hallway begins to curve.

You're fucking kidding her.

Does she try to draw it out? Bargain? Is it capable, or does it just want to see her scared?

(She thinks about standing still, just for a moment.

But she's too frightened of what she might find behind her.)

The hallway, almost imperceptibly, slopes downward.

The growing cold is not imperceptible.

Okay, fuck this.

She's being herded.

She's pretty sure nobody would hear if she screamed for help.

Edited 2012-10-23 03:04 (UTC)

Nope.
There's a doorway at the bottom of the slope.

Ava stops in front of the door.

She swallows.

The door ... isn't quite right.

Or left.

Her eyes narrow.

And she presses her fingers to her temples, letting a headache rage to the fore.

She needs something strong, tough.

Something that can really put some oomph into this architecture.

(Ava can see the hound that materializes. She has no idea whether the thing in this building can.)

"Okay, boy," she grinds out softly.

"Time for a remodel."

With a series of loud THUDs, the hellhound crashes its weight against the dirty plaster of the wall to one side of her.

It may take a bit.

But there's a lot to be said for infernal stamina.

The plaster crumbles, revealing something that looks suspiciously like pulsating, bloody, flesh, studded with gears.

Ava shrieks, and the hellhound snarls and lunges forward.

The door pulses outward like a great creature taking a deep breath.

"Oh really?" she snaps at it.

"Now you think I'm gonna walk through your fucking door?!"

The wall behind her is much closer than she remembers.