[MNIM] Part 7: Expulse
Feb. 26th, 2015 04:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lunitariaprimeI stood there for time long after the fog had faded, tasting that word on my tongue.
Mariner.
I looked at the pale face in the mirror, right into her eyes, the light catching enough of them for me to see their color, an icy blue.
That's your name, mirror-woman, I told her silently.
I straightened up and watched her breathe, slowly.
Well, as well as I could see her in this color, in this light.
I decided that it was time to confront something I had been avoiding.
Thinking about the envelope in the sterile room made my stomach twist, and something in my head felt like it was being tightened in my skull.
I set my jaw.
I rubbed my cheek. Why the hell did any human being do that with their face? Doing it for nine-tenths of a second made my cheek feel like it was in a vise.
I took slow, steady steps on the carpet, paying attention to the soft clomping sound my feet clad in boots made on it.
I marveled at my toes - I could feel them, and they were warm again. They were also surprisingly comfortable.
I reached the doorway and looked into the too-bright room and shielded my eyes.
There it was, that large envelope, sitting on a table, not far from a microscope.
I reached out to touch it.
My head hurt a little, a sharp sort of pain and the surface of the enveloped erupted in strange red glowing figures that seemed to rise from it and hover in the air.
Moving closer a little, the pain worsened and something in the air seemed to fold and erupt and strange green-black fingers or limbs seemed to reach out to me from nowhere.
I clamped my eyes shut and felt again the debate between stomach and brain. My stomach seemed determined this time to squeeze everything from my feet to my chest up through my mouth, and I tasted something sharp and acidic.
Darkness.
I don't know how long I was inside that void.
The smell was what first awoke me, acidic and sickly somehow.
The taste in my mouth was terrible, a war zone of acids and things I could not identify.
I rose slowly to my feet, my brain swimming in an ill-balanced pail of lukewarm bath water.
The pain lanced outwards from my eyes and I closed them again, covering my face with my elbow and I spat, unmindful and uncaring of the Universe outside of the filth against my tongue and teeth.
As vision became again sharp and clear again, the room seeming to glow frmo the light above, I reached a hand out, felt the paper against my fingers, clasped it, and staggered from that polished white hell.
An inner reflex made my hand tap the switch on exiting and the burning suns above were dark at last.
I dropped the envelop on a surface, my stomach once again twisting itself.
I resolved to move my body forwards, still feeling foggy.
And the next and hopefully final terrible feeling was sated into the polished metal throne, my eyes screwed shut, and my body shivering as if all muscles tensed.
I discovered a cold place on the floor under it to store my head until it stopped feeling as it did, and the whoosh above told me that the toilet was obviously self-regulating.
Darkness found me again there, sprawled before the toilet in the dim light.
A small thrill of fear followed me down.
"What could be causing this...."
Mariner.
I looked at the pale face in the mirror, right into her eyes, the light catching enough of them for me to see their color, an icy blue.
That's your name, mirror-woman, I told her silently.
I straightened up and watched her breathe, slowly.
Well, as well as I could see her in this color, in this light.
I decided that it was time to confront something I had been avoiding.
Thinking about the envelope in the sterile room made my stomach twist, and something in my head felt like it was being tightened in my skull.
I set my jaw.
I rubbed my cheek. Why the hell did any human being do that with their face? Doing it for nine-tenths of a second made my cheek feel like it was in a vise.
I took slow, steady steps on the carpet, paying attention to the soft clomping sound my feet clad in boots made on it.
I marveled at my toes - I could feel them, and they were warm again. They were also surprisingly comfortable.
I reached the doorway and looked into the too-bright room and shielded my eyes.
There it was, that large envelope, sitting on a table, not far from a microscope.
I reached out to touch it.
My head hurt a little, a sharp sort of pain and the surface of the enveloped erupted in strange red glowing figures that seemed to rise from it and hover in the air.
Moving closer a little, the pain worsened and something in the air seemed to fold and erupt and strange green-black fingers or limbs seemed to reach out to me from nowhere.
I clamped my eyes shut and felt again the debate between stomach and brain. My stomach seemed determined this time to squeeze everything from my feet to my chest up through my mouth, and I tasted something sharp and acidic.
Darkness.
I don't know how long I was inside that void.
The smell was what first awoke me, acidic and sickly somehow.
The taste in my mouth was terrible, a war zone of acids and things I could not identify.
I rose slowly to my feet, my brain swimming in an ill-balanced pail of lukewarm bath water.
The pain lanced outwards from my eyes and I closed them again, covering my face with my elbow and I spat, unmindful and uncaring of the Universe outside of the filth against my tongue and teeth.
As vision became again sharp and clear again, the room seeming to glow frmo the light above, I reached a hand out, felt the paper against my fingers, clasped it, and staggered from that polished white hell.
An inner reflex made my hand tap the switch on exiting and the burning suns above were dark at last.
I dropped the envelop on a surface, my stomach once again twisting itself.
I resolved to move my body forwards, still feeling foggy.
And the next and hopefully final terrible feeling was sated into the polished metal throne, my eyes screwed shut, and my body shivering as if all muscles tensed.
I discovered a cold place on the floor under it to store my head until it stopped feeling as it did, and the whoosh above told me that the toilet was obviously self-regulating.
Darkness found me again there, sprawled before the toilet in the dim light.
A small thrill of fear followed me down.
"What could be causing this...."
