Gasping breaths became borderline hyperventilation, would eventually become so entirely. Arms wrapped about her legs wrapped tighter. Her heartbeat was in her ears, lungs in her throat as she rasped each pull for oxygen.
For a time she couldn’t hear anything but larger portions of what Fate was seeing in data; what was given to him was sporadic, cut with what would have been akin to razor scissors. Fear of something larger than herself did that; did that to anyone.
Every bit of her shook like a freezing kitten as more flashes came—as walls rolled in around her; tighter and tighter and tighter. Glass walls surrounded her in black, walls she pressed against while crying to be set free, pounding against to no avail until she was hoarse and choking on amniotic-like fluids she couldn’t actually choke on.
“S-stop…” she got out, sputtered—begged, before she drew in a larger breath.
It flittered on the edges, his voice—pushing through all that swallowed and rubbed raw her insides. But it was enough to tug like a lifeline.
“Not… r-real…” she said aloud to herself more than him. She tried to slow her breath beyond the flashes, beyond what broken chaos she sent through to his system involuntarily. She needed reality; needed something other than what her mind conjured with tech and augmented with her innate ability.
“T… Talk to me, Fate.” If he kept talking to her… maybe, maybe she could find a way out of this; out of the walls… the memories…
She forced her eyes open and lifted her head. A camera feed would pop up on his largest monitor—hers. Rounded steel walls would greet him as they greeted her. Her chest seized, but she latched on to repeating memory of his voice asking if she was there. He’d see her transparent screens as they popped up, as her mind and tech wound a tumble of numbers she had a hard time comprehending—data about the shaft; about how to potentially get out based on her physical parameters thus far; about how to get out based on percentages involving distance, speed, resistances, physics, and then some.
>wallswallswalls
—her mind fed in text to his screen.
>can’t breathe
>can’t think
>make it go away
>can’t
>closinginclosingclosingin
It became an endless stream of uncontrolled, unfiltered, and fearful thoughts—hers.
“Help…” she whispered this time, closing her eyes tightly and opening them once more. It was hard to look, but she had to—had to stay here and not too submerged in her own head and what it conjured.
For a time she couldn’t hear anything but larger portions of what Fate was seeing in data; what was given to him was sporadic, cut with what would have been akin to razor scissors. Fear of something larger than herself did that; did that to anyone.
Every bit of her shook like a freezing kitten as more flashes came—as walls rolled in around her; tighter and tighter and tighter. Glass walls surrounded her in black, walls she pressed against while crying to be set free, pounding against to no avail until she was hoarse and choking on amniotic-like fluids she couldn’t actually choke on.
“S-stop…” she got out, sputtered—begged, before she drew in a larger breath.
"Robin? If you can hear me...say something"
It flittered on the edges, his voice—pushing through all that swallowed and rubbed raw her insides. But it was enough to tug like a lifeline.
“Not… r-real…” she said aloud to herself more than him. She tried to slow her breath beyond the flashes, beyond what broken chaos she sent through to his system involuntarily. She needed reality; needed something other than what her mind conjured with tech and augmented with her innate ability.
“T… Talk to me, Fate.” If he kept talking to her… maybe, maybe she could find a way out of this; out of the walls… the memories…
She forced her eyes open and lifted her head. A camera feed would pop up on his largest monitor—hers. Rounded steel walls would greet him as they greeted her. Her chest seized, but she latched on to repeating memory of his voice asking if she was there. He’d see her transparent screens as they popped up, as her mind and tech wound a tumble of numbers she had a hard time comprehending—data about the shaft; about how to potentially get out based on her physical parameters thus far; about how to get out based on percentages involving distance, speed, resistances, physics, and then some.
>wallswallswalls
—her mind fed in text to his screen.
>can’t breathe
>can’t think
>make it go away
>can’t
>closinginclosingclosingin
It became an endless stream of uncontrolled, unfiltered, and fearful thoughts—hers.
“Help…” she whispered this time, closing her eyes tightly and opening them once more. It was hard to look, but she had to—had to stay here and not too submerged in her own head and what it conjured.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
The following 1 user Likes Blade's post: Tindome
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