FiG-P6-Reaching Out
Collin stared with a feeling of dread at the answering machine. It stared back with red, glaring numerals. He fidgeted with the scarf in his hands, plucking at loose strands of soft wool, sparing a glance for the clock.
"It's late," he said to himself, in a rational tone, "Tony's bound to be asleep by now. No need to wake him..." His gaze returned to the accusing answering machine and then skittered away. "I don't even know if those are from him," he muttered sullenly. "Could be a waste of time. Rhi said I should hurry," his pale blue eyes scanned the rest of the room, alighting on a stack of books on his shelf. He grinned boyishly, a FiG-P6-Reaching Out
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FiG-P7-Things Unnatural
He found her in the ice garden. She sat with her back to him, her long, dark tresses spread in elegant swirls across the frosted cobblestones. Layers of blue and white cloth pooled from an opulent gown. She was still, frozen and beautiful as the garden itself. Delicate petals and blooms were carved from crystalline ice. Trees towered overhead, artfully sculpted in curving, crooked shapes. It was massive, and lovely, and very, very cold.
Frost made a point to walk as carelessly as possible through it, turning the rose bushes to showers of icy powder, and leaving the trees to shudder and snap themselves FiG-P7-Things Unnatural
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FiG-P9-Feelin' Fine
Frost felt good. Incredible, even. He felt energetic, powerful, alive even. He had a spring in his step and a tune in his heart. On confident feet he glided through the club, bathed in vivid red light, dancing to the pounding beat with more grace than he could ever remember having. It felt natural. Effortless.
It is amazing, he thought to himself, What a good meal can do. And what a meal it had been. He'd never tasted anything quite like it. Rich, full of flavors, real food-of-the-earth type stuff. Just thinking about it made his mouth water.
All good things in moderation, he remin FiG-P9-Feelin' Fine
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FiG-P17-Cracks
Armin, Frost had decided, was not a particularly creative dreamer.
The setting felt real enough, certainly, and it was plenty painful. Holy hell, was it painful, but that visceral intensity just didn't make up for a lack of imagination.
crack
Another bone in his already mangled hand snapped, and a scream ripped itself from his raw throat. His body writhed of its own accord, jarring broken limbs and setting off ripples of further agony. In any sane world, the pain of it would have thrown him into blissful unconsciousness, but this was a world of dreams.
That didn't mean it was without escape.
His mind seemed oddly detach FiG-P17-Cracks
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Sta.sh
