Philip (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2012-02-09 09:44 pm
sadfreezingbrit) wrote in entranceway2012-02-09 09:44 pm
Smiled and said 'yes, I think we've met before'...
[Ladies and gentlemen of the fifth floor, viewers of this accidental video feed, meet Philip! He was just enjoying the lovely landscapes of Greenland on a, well, rather unique vacation of sorts when Wonderland called him back.
Appearing today the man in his very late twenties is wearing an ensemble from the Spontaneous Adventurer collection; dirty and ripped clothing that carries a distinct smell of sewer, blood and gasoline. He is clutching his left arm where his sweater soaks up blood and an axe wound causes him some considerable discomfort.
But to him none of that will matter in a moment. Because in a moment he will step through a door and meet the woman he's fought hell to find, he will meet the woman who has all the answers he needs.
So he swallows, ignores the shivering cold and braces himself, pushing the door in front of him open to-- ]
Um, hello? Am...
[ --to find himself alone in a corridor much nicer and warmer than the derelict room in the icy wastelands he anticipated. ]
...abel?
[ A corridor which he knows. A corridor which he knows well. A corridor which, in itself, should be an incredible improvement to his previous situation and yet... ]
...No. No! This--
[ And yet he really doesn't seem too thrilled to be here. ]
This is a joke.
[ Why, in fact he seems to be clutching his head, pacing back and forth in front of the door he just transported through, all the while his expression is becoming more and more pained and desperate. ]
This is a bloody joke!
{ Funny, could've sworn I didn't catch you laughin'. Home sweet home, eh, monkey? }
[ One last outcry and Philip falls against the wall, gradually slumping to the floor and burying his face in his hands. ]
Not again, I can't... I can't believe this...
Appearing today the man in his very late twenties is wearing an ensemble from the Spontaneous Adventurer collection; dirty and ripped clothing that carries a distinct smell of sewer, blood and gasoline. He is clutching his left arm where his sweater soaks up blood and an axe wound causes him some considerable discomfort.
But to him none of that will matter in a moment. Because in a moment he will step through a door and meet the woman he's fought hell to find, he will meet the woman who has all the answers he needs.
So he swallows, ignores the shivering cold and braces himself, pushing the door in front of him open to-- ]
Um, hello? Am...
[ --to find himself alone in a corridor much nicer and warmer than the derelict room in the icy wastelands he anticipated. ]
...abel?
[ A corridor which he knows. A corridor which he knows well. A corridor which, in itself, should be an incredible improvement to his previous situation and yet... ]
...No. No! This--
[ And yet he really doesn't seem too thrilled to be here. ]
This is a joke.
[ Why, in fact he seems to be clutching his head, pacing back and forth in front of the door he just transported through, all the while his expression is becoming more and more pained and desperate. ]
This is a bloody joke!
{ Funny, could've sworn I didn't catch you laughin'. Home sweet home, eh, monkey? }
[ One last outcry and Philip falls against the wall, gradually slumping to the floor and burying his face in his hands. ]
Not again, I can't... I can't believe this...
no subject
...It's sort of nice to hear it, actually.
[ A beat. ]
Thanks.
no subject