ataraxites: (Default)
axmods. ([personal profile] ataraxites) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2013-02-18 08:56 am

EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The Corridors.
WARNINGS: Space crazy, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: You may have simply been taking the lift with passerbys, but now you're hopelessly lost.
NOTES: Notes on the corridors.


Those on their way to meet a friend at dinner, or heading to their department, may never reach their intended destination. Instead, characters will find themselves in an unfamiliar part of the ship, abruptly stranded. All attempts to access the elevator will prove fruitless, as the doors cannot be pried open and the lift will not respond when called. It looks like you have no where to go but forward. Hallways will connect only to other hallways, giving you the impression that you're always on your way somewhere- but can't quite manage to arrive.

Time spent in the hallways will seem endless, but with luck you may find a break in the monotony. It is possible for characters to find one another, which would be preferable, as it's probably safer traveling in groups. Those that spend an excessive amount of time in their own company will find themselves feeling increasingly hostile and paranoid, until even the walls seem to be watching. That may not be such an exaggeration, with those murals that continually appear...

jurisimpudent: (staring)

[personal profile] jurisimpudent 2013-03-12 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[Edgeworth, though, lifts his head, and there's something almost defiant in the kindness of his parting words:]

Be careful, and stay unharmed. And if we find a way out, we'll come search for you.

[And, finally, he turns and goes.]
dearlydeceived: (oh you are going down bitch)

[personal profile] dearlydeceived 2013-03-12 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Debra has none of Edgeworth's quixotic graciousness or courage in turning his back on a threat. She can tell - or thinks she can tell - when she's being mocked, when her vulnerability or that of others is being used for some sick bastard's amusement, and there's nothing she hates more. If she were alone, if she were a few years younger and less experienced, Deb might not have been able to rein in her impulse to stomp back and get in Hal's face, or at least to fire some parting conversational shot.

But she isn't either of those things, so there's only something kindling in her eyes, and a slight, unpleasant smile touching her lips. She paces backwards, light on her feet and her gaze unwavering till she's around the bend in the corridor and the line of sight is broken. ]