[ The pond is shallow, decorative. It shines like glass in the blackness, as perfect as a mirror. Majima stands at the edge of the water, gazing down into the reflection. There is nothing below him at all; just a black, glassy void.
Instead there are others. In rows and rings, any number of pale faces stare back up at him. Some of them have two eyes, many of them have only one. Sometimes covered in black, sometimes jagged and smashed open with nothing but electrical static underneath. Majima keeps his hands in his pockets, shoulders stooped. He taps the toe of his shoe a little deeper into the water, watchings pale rings extend outwards, causing ripples into the assemblage of watchers.
He looks up when he hears someone coming in behind him. The many other faces look as well, chins lifting, heads turning and tilting. There is a strange, chittering noise of interest coming from the water. ]
Don't think ya wanna be here, right now.
[ Majima's affect is dull and, once seeing who it is, he looks away again wearily. ]
[open] π the broken lake π cw: horror, mental illness, trauma, etc
Instead there are others. In rows and rings, any number of pale faces stare back up at him. Some of them have two eyes, many of them have only one. Sometimes covered in black, sometimes jagged and smashed open with nothing but electrical static underneath. Majima keeps his hands in his pockets, shoulders stooped. He taps the toe of his shoe a little deeper into the water, watchings pale rings extend outwards, causing ripples into the assemblage of watchers.
He looks up when he hears someone coming in behind him. The many other faces look as well, chins lifting, heads turning and tilting. There is a strange, chittering noise of interest coming from the water. ]
Don't think ya wanna be here, right now.
[ Majima's affect is dull and, once seeing who it is, he looks away again wearily. ]