When one is faced with an impossible challenge, there comes a time when one’s only real course of action is to… sit their ass down on a random tree root and complain to nobody in particular, apparently.
It’s not like Erika has given up or something, resigned herself to be trapped in this godforsaken WILDERNESS HELLSCAPE forever, because giving up isn’t something she does if she has literally any choice left. But it is true that she’s been walking for a good few hours, and apparently not getting anywhere. Mostly what she’s been getting is tired. And annoyed. And covered in leaves and a little creeped out by those voices.
She shoves her fingers through her hair, grumbling under her breath as she looks around again, trying to pinpoint any possible landmarks that aren’t more fucking trees that all look the exact fucking same.
“Dammit… you’d think they’d put up a fence or something before someone dies out here. Hell, I’d bet people have died here ‘n they just haven’t done anything about it…”
And so on and so forth.
Scenario Three (Shade)
Maybe she should count herself lucky that it doesn’t really hurt.
That’s what Erika keeps telling herself, but… when it comes down to it she’s not one to count her blessings when she’s turning into… something. She’s not sure what yet; all she can make out so far is the network of dark grey veins weaving their way under her skin, bursting one by one to send blackness rising to the surface like a bruise. Or, more accurately, hundreds of bruises.
Besides, even if it doesn’t hurt it’s not comfortable - it’s a strange, sickening feeling, a sort of pressure that borders on the painful but never quite gets there, and the dry ache behind her eyes feels even worse, even if she can’t actually see the pinpoints of white light replacing her pupils.
She keeps herself standing flush against one of the walls making up the alleyway, staring down at her own arm with some mix of horror and fascination, and quietly considering whether to seek out some sort of help or just… wait it out.
Erika Fisher | OC
When one is faced with an impossible challenge, there comes a time when one’s only real course of action is to… sit their ass down on a random tree root and complain to nobody in particular, apparently.
It’s not like Erika has given up or something, resigned herself to be trapped in this godforsaken WILDERNESS HELLSCAPE forever, because giving up isn’t something she does if she has literally any choice left. But it is true that she’s been walking for a good few hours, and apparently not getting anywhere. Mostly what she’s been getting is tired. And annoyed. And covered in leaves and a little creeped out by those voices.
She shoves her fingers through her hair, grumbling under her breath as she looks around again, trying to pinpoint any possible landmarks that aren’t more fucking trees that all look the exact fucking same.
“Dammit… you’d think they’d put up a fence or something before someone dies out here. Hell, I’d bet people have died here ‘n they just haven’t done anything about it…”
And so on and so forth.
Scenario Three (Shade)
Maybe she should count herself lucky that it doesn’t really hurt.
That’s what Erika keeps telling herself, but… when it comes down to it she’s not one to count her blessings when she’s turning into… something. She’s not sure what yet; all she can make out so far is the network of dark grey veins weaving their way under her skin, bursting one by one to send blackness rising to the surface like a bruise. Or, more accurately, hundreds of bruises.
Besides, even if it doesn’t hurt it’s not comfortable - it’s a strange, sickening feeling, a sort of pressure that borders on the painful but never quite gets there, and the dry ache behind her eyes feels even worse, even if she can’t actually see the pinpoints of white light replacing her pupils.
She keeps herself standing flush against one of the walls making up the alleyway, staring down at her own arm with some mix of horror and fascination, and quietly considering whether to seek out some sort of help or just… wait it out.