DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Alternate Reality IBT: Island of Broken Toys Dorm 3-A

Cecil awakens with a start. The pain the needles - Enkidu’s burning hand. Those things don’t leave your memory, they are burned in indelibly. What woke him up is the sound of a girl sobbing. Likely someone being dumped off after some form of experimentation. That was the way of things in the ‘stockyards’. If you were a success you were used. If you were less broken you were dumped here. But now and again the broken toys were picked up and played with again. And the ‘games’ were rarely pleasant for the toy.

He could see a shock of almost white-blond hair in another bed which must represent the source, he had to blink his eyes, the girl in question was … flickering. glitching? It’s almost as if sheets of vaguely purple electricity coursed along her frame, distorting her in their wake, looking for all the world like an image from a damaged projector..

Cecil



His eyes open. The details of the dream, the pain associated with it, sweeps through his body. Slowly the dream fades into the recesses of his mind. Forgotten for now, thankfully.

Blinking his eyes for a moment, the rooms ceiling comes into focus with the early morning light filtered through the small single dirty window on his right. The ceilings peeling paint and cracks is the first familiar thing he sees. For days too many to count since he was brought here, the sound of a girl crying is not new in this place, yet it is the source of what woke him up.

Drawing in the hot humid air, he finds his tongue quite dry as he sits up to spot the sobbing girl lying in the bed across from his.

Feeling the beginning of a headache coming on, whether it is because of his condition or from being dehydrated, Cecil quietly puts on his sneakers, walks over to the girls’ bed, and squats down so as not to be seen as towering over her.
The girls flickering visage makes him wondering what sort of power she has, but he is not too concerned about his own safety. Cecil figures his death will only be his way out of this place. When it happens, he really does not care.

Clearing his throat, he speaks in a dry voice. “Hey, you. I’m getting some water. Want some?”