Enoch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warriorscribe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
behappyhere2015-02-18 07:13 pm
warriorscribe) wrote in behappyhere2015-02-18 07:13 pm
There is such a thing as too comfortable (warning: brief mention of cannibalism in second prompt)
A: Garden floor
And Enoch seems to have found it - he seems perfectly content up on a ladder, adding more fence to the little vineyard in the garden. He goes through the doors every day, but doesn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get home. And why should he, when he knows his absence isn't causing trouble? Why should he be so quick to get back to what he knows will be torturous, to more pain? He's safe here. He's living a life he hasn't been able to have in hundreds of years. He'd like to keep it for a little while. Not forever. But he'd like the break.
He works steadily, singing quietly to himself in his own language - anyone who understands it might be able to catch it's a harvest song, bright and cheerful. He's interrupted, however, when the section of fence beside him suddenly falls over.
"Oh..." Seeing someone nearby, he calls to them: "I'm sorry, could you come help me raise this again?"
He is indeed becoming too comfortable in this remnant of Animus.
B: His room, closed to Lucifel
And, of course, when one is too comfortable, life has a tendency to put a stop to that. The lights he'd put in his room were the battery-powered kind he could just stick on the walls, because he doesn't know how to set up electrical wiring and didn't feel comfortable asking someone to help him with something only he would use. They were motion-activated, so if he woke quickly from sleep, they would turn on. Ever since the time they had been quarantined in the dormitories, Enoch couldn't stand being alone in total darkness. He would always hear it, hear the screaming of his fellow prisoners as they were killed, start to smell their blood again, and the thought of making noise made his chest tighten up in panic.
Batteries have a limited lifespan.
It was a terrible nightmare, Ruana's too-many teeth and the crunch of bone and his own skin coming free and the memory of pain that woke him screaming until he realized it was dark and then suddenly his throat closed up and his mouth worked soundlessly in the dark. The only noises he made were choked sounds as he failed to realize where he was in the wake of that horrible dream.
And Enoch seems to have found it - he seems perfectly content up on a ladder, adding more fence to the little vineyard in the garden. He goes through the doors every day, but doesn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get home. And why should he, when he knows his absence isn't causing trouble? Why should he be so quick to get back to what he knows will be torturous, to more pain? He's safe here. He's living a life he hasn't been able to have in hundreds of years. He'd like to keep it for a little while. Not forever. But he'd like the break.
He works steadily, singing quietly to himself in his own language - anyone who understands it might be able to catch it's a harvest song, bright and cheerful. He's interrupted, however, when the section of fence beside him suddenly falls over.
"Oh..." Seeing someone nearby, he calls to them: "I'm sorry, could you come help me raise this again?"
He is indeed becoming too comfortable in this remnant of Animus.
B: His room, closed to Lucifel
And, of course, when one is too comfortable, life has a tendency to put a stop to that. The lights he'd put in his room were the battery-powered kind he could just stick on the walls, because he doesn't know how to set up electrical wiring and didn't feel comfortable asking someone to help him with something only he would use. They were motion-activated, so if he woke quickly from sleep, they would turn on. Ever since the time they had been quarantined in the dormitories, Enoch couldn't stand being alone in total darkness. He would always hear it, hear the screaming of his fellow prisoners as they were killed, start to smell their blood again, and the thought of making noise made his chest tighten up in panic.
Batteries have a limited lifespan.
It was a terrible nightmare, Ruana's too-many teeth and the crunch of bone and his own skin coming free and the memory of pain that woke him screaming until he realized it was dark and then suddenly his throat closed up and his mouth worked soundlessly in the dark. The only noises he made were choked sounds as he failed to realize where he was in the wake of that horrible dream.