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pointofspecificity) wrote2011-03-07 01:17 am
pointofspecificity) wrote2011-03-07 01:17 am
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[002]: [Action]. Long lost words whisper to me.
[In an attempt to avoid his room, Arthur’s wandering the halls of the mansion aimlessly; he considered going for a walk around the grounds earlier in the day, but the fog outside is eerie even by his standards and he’s not in the mood to venture through a horror film. The strange happenings of the night have left him tired and on edge, dark circles visible around his bloodshot eyes, encasing an unfocused stare, and he jumps at the varies random day-to-day noises of the building that carry down the corridors.
This isn’t like Arthur; he’s never been one to jump at his own shadow, but after seeing what he saw last night on the laptop he can’t help feeling a little paranoid, not to mention the fact that the only logical explanation he’s able to conjure in his exhausted state is that he’s finally starting to lose his grip on reality. He’s never spoken a word of what the distorted version of himself ranted and raved about from the light of the screen, part of it being the guilt that he’s always managed to conceal and control with relative success; for the first time in a long time, he isn’t sure what to think.
And as he walks, he’s keeping his eyes and ears open and alert for anyone else who might be in a similar way as himself – if he can find someone that can shed some light on the whole thing it would certainly put him at ease to know there’s a reasonable explanation behind everything, or least if he were to realise that he isn’t the only one being effected.]
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