sam(uel) drake. (
withmeinparadise) wrote in
meadowlarklogs2020-09-07 08:54 pm
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Entry tags:
sometimes I can push ahead; some nights, the wheels just spin.
WHO: Sam Drake, et alia
WHERE: All over New Amsterdam
WHEN: June 16th - 30th
WHAT: A catchall for September
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBD. Please feel free to reach out if you'd like me to write you a starter! ♥
WHERE: All over New Amsterdam
WHEN: June 16th - 30th
WHAT: A catchall for September
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBD. Please feel free to reach out if you'd like me to write you a starter! ♥
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Mostly because he knows by now that disapproving loudly doesn't really solve anything with her. She crosses her arms, hesitating before they head down the hallway.
"So is this some sort of weird subconscious thing or were you really in jail?"
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"Whaddaya think?" he asks--cheerfully, like he's conducting a poll. They've got nothing but time, especially since it doesn't look like there's any end to this hallway. "I seem like a jailbird to you?"
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"You're totally a jailbird. Maybe former jailbird? A misspent youth?"
As she's talking, something shifts down the hallway, so subtle it's just a shadow flitting in the corner of her eye. She tenses, turning to look, but doesn't see anything.
"You know the way out of here, right?"
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The prison tattoos are the most visible ones, after all. But her attention's drawn away, and his goes immediately, too, glancing back over her head in search of whatever it is she saw. Nothing but where they came from.
"Hate to break it to you," he says, waving a hand toward the hallway that seems to disappear into the horizon, "but last time I was here, it didn't look like the Twilight Zone."
But it's a dream, for God's sake. Can't they just...imagine an exit? (Pity he's not much of a lucid dreamer normally.) The main thing keeping him from trying is the awareness that squeezing his eyes shut and trying to imagine a cantina around them is going to make him look constipated. And even if he's got no chance with Kyna, he's still gonna play it like he might.
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"Come on, try it."
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For a Drake, it's as good a solution as anything, possibly better. This'll be fun.
"You wanna go first, I'll catch you if you fall," he says cheerfully, like she obviously knows the rough-and-tumble art of freeclimbing his subconscious.
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"We're climbing?
It isn't that Kyna is afraid of heights, exactly. In fact, some people might even call her an adrenaline junkie. It's just that the most rock climbing she's ever done is on one of those walls when she was in high school.
But it's not like she can die, right?
"Fuck it. It's just a dream."
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We learn by doing, Kyna, specifically by just getting tossed into the middle of stuff--just ask Nathan. Fortunately, his subconscious has thrown together a fairly easy path for them.
Well. Easy for him, anyway.
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"It's a dream," he calls up, reaching up to pat her heel--look, it's what he can reach--in an attempt at encouragement. "Stretch a little further."
If he can grow a goddamn wall in front of them, she can make her arm a little longer.
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So up she goes, the whole thing much easier with the wall transforming as she needs it to.
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But it's probably better than hanging out here all night, waiting for her to figure out how to grow longer arms. He scrambles up behind her once she starts moving again, and eventually, they're hauling themselves onto a roof of concrete and metal. Below them, past the other buildings, the yard, all of it, the Panamanian jungle stretches out.
Doesn't quite look the way he expects, though. Sam gives Kyna a glance. "You recognize anything out there?"