[identity profile] beautysleep4.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tdr_backup
~As she had become aware once more of her breathing, eyes blinking, conscious thought, she also sensed that the growth of the aggressive plant had slowed. She had risked a glance at Hal-she could not have been dead for more than what-minutes, hours. Time meant less than nothing here.

It had taken time to break off all the stalks which had continued to grow after her temporary demise. But they had worked together and agreed that they wanted out of Dis as quickly as possible.

They had moved quietly but as quickly as possible, and now they pause to catch their breath and try to gain bearings. The air Beauty notices has changed.~ We must be nearing the boundary of Dis. The air feels cooler here, almost damp and there is a faint odor- is that fish and rotting vegetables? ~She spits on the ground in disgust and then seems both surprised and ashamed of such behavior. They walk on and the ground turns from hard baked and cracked till it is becoming slimy, squelchy and slightly fetid muck. Beauty seems to take no notice letting the train of her elegant gown trail through the ooze. She stops long enough to remove her slippers and continues walking with the muck sucking around her feet. She is singing softly to herself the way a child does and she smiles at Hal as though they are strolling through the gardens from her home.~

Date: 2010-03-15 06:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] halleyscomet1.livejournal.com
*Being with her whilst she was dead had been awful- not only feeling as though he'd failed her but also having nobody there to take his mind off of his own bamboo torture had nearly driven him out of his mind.

But they were alright now. He walks with her through these swamps and is very shocked at Beauty's behaviour. He chastises himself internally for being so judgemental though; he's certainly not above the odd spit or drop in hygiene (it's hard to stay clean in deserts, jungles and the Poles) but he's never consider doing it in front of a lady. And he supposes the rules apply for girls to men too. Maybe she's different from normal princesses- after all, he's never met another before.

He doesn't even notice that instead of offering her a hand through the muck he's got his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders slightly rounded, though still perfectly friendly.*

The swamp level no doubt. Careful- there'll be sea monsters.


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