Apr. 12th, 2010

[identity profile] severus-snape1.livejournal.com
~Snape is actually rather relieved to find that this new round of torment seems to be of the physical variety. He handles physical pain better than the emotional, even if it is still unpleasant. Sometimes, he rather suspects that he could have ended up in any number of Hell's levels--probably could have been Regulus' next-door neighbor here in 5--but that some twist of fate knew what his absolute worst punishment would be and put him on 1. He knows that's not the way it works, and there are times when he takes solace in knowing that he did _something_ right, like dying trying to protect Lily's son, for instance. But then there are the times like now when he thinks that Hell knows their weaknesses and preys upon them. Is this rotation brought about through the fears and neuroses of the shades that reside here, expanded to engulf them all? Did they all suffer, simultaneously, the darkest issues of their peers? Was he the reason why everyone suffered the loss of control of their limbs, because he has control issues he hasn't quite yet come to terms with?

Or perhaps, he thinks with a sigh, is he internalizing this far too much?

He pauses long enough to twist his back in an effort to ease the strain. He has decided that, while these aches may be caused by the effort of slogging through miles of mud and water, he truly doubts it. The caveman thing is past, and he knows that there is little relief between Hell's torments. When one ends, another begins.

However, his more immediate concern is the large leech that has been feeding on the back of his right leg for some time. The leeches here grow about as fast, it seems, as the bamboo had, and it's really beginning to interfere with his walking. At first, he and Wesley, and presumably the woman, had been removing them when they first found them attached. But the little buggers were far too numerous, and now they only pulled them off here and there. This one was now too large and inconvenient to ignore.~

I need to stop over there, ~he says, pointing to a rare rise of land that offers a bit of firmer footing.~ I need to get rid of a parasite or two.
[identity profile] beautysleep4.livejournal.com
~She knows she should not be so flattered by Hal's attention and compliments. She is a betrothed princess all but wed if not for this evil spell. And yet, after centuries of wandering alone and friendless it is impossible for her to dismiss it as her due though she would have done so without a thought in her own time and place. But it is not her time and place, nor does she have her prince while her new champion is handsome and articulate and chivalrous to a fault. He is good company, lifting her spirits when they threaten to sink like hapless creatures in the surrounding mire or listening to her stories of a world he knows nothing about and surely has no interest in save that she does.

They are picking their way through the swamp. Both have had more than enough of the damp and the chill not to mention the myriad of nasty little creatures which threaten to make a banquet of any shade they might catch. Beauty is waving away a swarm of giant hairy gnat-like things when she feels the first strange sensation. A quick searing pain as if she has strained the muscles. Perhaps she has she thinks for the mud is constantly pulling against them as they trek through it. She begs Hal for a bit of a rest. They are at the bottom of a dip with yet another pool stretching out before them. As she gazes across the dull grey landscape she spots figures on the top of the next rise. They are not close enough for recognizable features and yet there is something naggingly familiar about one of them.

Harold~she has not yet become so informal that she uses the diminutive of his name~do you see those people up there? They seem to be coming this way, do you think it is quite safe to stay?


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