CHAOS THEORY- Cat in a Box
               You have been here before….
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Ache settled in as Bonslette slowly returned to consciousness. The aches in her limbs she had all but forgotten she had, the impact on her forehead from the fall that must have occurred…..the many scratches and scrapes on her hands from...wait, from what? Settling herself onto her knees, hazy eyes did gaze at the somewhat bizarre scenery around her.
It seemed to be a carnival of sorts, but very dimly lit. There were hushed echoes of laughter sounding around her, almost mockingly just beyond her ability to pinpoint. She had no strength in her legs, finding that she had to crawl with much difficulty to move from one spot to the next.
“Why are my legs so lamed?†she thought idly, desperately attempting to recall the events that may have put her in this condition. Upon closer inspection of herself, her legs were quite battered, as if something blunt had crashed repeatedly into them. Her simple clothes were torn here and there, and her left elbow had something stuck inside of it…..which noticing brought a great deal of pain. Cursing her senses that seemed to be working against her, she noticed something else: Her dagger and wand seemed to be missing; she could not find them no matter how much she searched her person or squinted at the dark floor before and around her.
Finally, her gasps of pain and the sound of dragging herself across the floor caught the attention of one of the patrons, what appeared to be a man in a garb of a jester just a ways away. His footsteps echoed, which was very strange, considering they were surrounded by a plethora of sounds to mask it. “What is going on?†She thought as he shuffled closer, an action that would soon bring horror as his features became clearer.
The man-if it could be called that, was certainly not a jester. While dressed as one, his gnarled and patchy haired hands only housed three fat and clawed fingers. His garb was a faded blue, unsewn holes and filthy looking stains adorning its entirety. His face, although somewhat veiled in the dim lighting, was like that of an imaginary being, with eyes like that of a chocobo but with a snout in place of a beak, three cracked and rotting teeth visible inside, and decorated with what appeared to be a series of burn scars along the nostrils.
Upon seeing her clearly, his features darkened into one of hunger, turning towards the empty darkness behind him and calling out, “Hey, she is over here now! Gonna take her for myself this time!†With his statement finished, he grabbed her by the legs, much to her pained protests and weak thrashing. Excitedly, he dragged her along towards a light, where a number of sickening looking tools lay on display upon the wall; Rusty saws and what appeared to be long and thickened syringes, along with a healthy supply of dirty looking bags and an unpleasantly strong scent of iron. The “thing†plopped her against the wall, fingers running along the bottom of his snout as he savored choosing his tool. Deciding the bag would be the best thing to start with, he snatched one from the wall, pressing it clumsily against Bonslette’s head. Her screams of protest echoed hollow in his ears, and even further away in her own; she found that she could not move, and her vision was slowly beginning to distort and whiten. With the sound of a sickening “popâ€, her consciousness faded again altogether, a familiar feeling of all of her bodies’ weight going into her head overtaking her.
“Why am I here?†she thought as she let herself be guided to and fro by the darkness, unquestioning and without a second thought.
“I wanted to…..do something. Stop someone…..but where? Why? Ah…that’s right…..the man I was chasing. I walked into a trap…but where am I now? What is happening? And why....why is my face so hot?â€
Bonslette abruptly forced herself in a panic onto her feet, the hot cobblestones underneath her now bare feet an unpleasant, but altogether welcome shift from what was happening but moments before. Looking overhead, she could see a beautiful dark blue sky; it appeared to be night out despite the heat. Checking herself over, she found she was far less injured, save a cut on her cheek and a bloody nose. Clutched lovingly into her left hand was her wand, although it still seemed her dagger was missing in action.
Around herself, it appeared to be an alleyway overlooking a river; she was in a city made up of stones and silence. “What is going on?†She thought, attempting to wrap her mind around the drastically changed scenery and feel of her surroundings. Sighing to herself as she tried to remember, she received naught but a horrible headache for her trouble, the distinct feeling of her head splitting in two overcoming her. Deciding that trying to force it was not a good idea, she attempted to gather information about her surroundings instead; this proved to be a waste of an effort, as there were no one in the city to even converse with, no matter where she looked.
As the night waned on, the heat began to rise considerably. She found that she had to rip the sleeves off of her tunic to wrap around her feet to protect them. What initially brought her relief was quickly bringing her dread. Bonslette knew not where she was, only that it was only getting hotter. What would happen if she were here during sunrise? The thought brought no pleasant feelings into her bosom, only the clear understanding that she absolutely must not let that happen. But how would she leave?
So much of what has happened was already so far out of her understanding and ability to comprehend that simply attempting made her woozy. She was hungry, she was exposed, and nothing about the situation she was in made any sense. She should be in some trashy dark alley in Limsa Lominsa, not trekking in dead city attempting to find a way out before she were boiled alive in a city shaped sun bowl.
Realizing that fatigue and thirst had worked against her, she stumbled her way into a nearby building, attempting to rest in the warm shade. Her wand still clutched in her hand, a realization came to her:
“I can make some ice to cool my body! When the ice melts in this heat, I can use it to slake my thirst. If I cannot make it out before sunrise, I can at least hide in one of these houses and continue to keep myself cool until nightfall comes again!â€
No sooner than after she made this grand plan, she heard something rattle and move in the distance; a brief pause before whatever the source was began to move towards her.
[tak tak tak!]
Her night was just beginning.
               You have been here before….
Â
Ache settled in as Bonslette slowly returned to consciousness. The aches in her limbs she had all but forgotten she had, the impact on her forehead from the fall that must have occurred…..the many scratches and scrapes on her hands from...wait, from what? Settling herself onto her knees, hazy eyes did gaze at the somewhat bizarre scenery around her.
It seemed to be a carnival of sorts, but very dimly lit. There were hushed echoes of laughter sounding around her, almost mockingly just beyond her ability to pinpoint. She had no strength in her legs, finding that she had to crawl with much difficulty to move from one spot to the next.
“Why are my legs so lamed?†she thought idly, desperately attempting to recall the events that may have put her in this condition. Upon closer inspection of herself, her legs were quite battered, as if something blunt had crashed repeatedly into them. Her simple clothes were torn here and there, and her left elbow had something stuck inside of it…..which noticing brought a great deal of pain. Cursing her senses that seemed to be working against her, she noticed something else: Her dagger and wand seemed to be missing; she could not find them no matter how much she searched her person or squinted at the dark floor before and around her.
Finally, her gasps of pain and the sound of dragging herself across the floor caught the attention of one of the patrons, what appeared to be a man in a garb of a jester just a ways away. His footsteps echoed, which was very strange, considering they were surrounded by a plethora of sounds to mask it. “What is going on?†She thought as he shuffled closer, an action that would soon bring horror as his features became clearer.
The man-if it could be called that, was certainly not a jester. While dressed as one, his gnarled and patchy haired hands only housed three fat and clawed fingers. His garb was a faded blue, unsewn holes and filthy looking stains adorning its entirety. His face, although somewhat veiled in the dim lighting, was like that of an imaginary being, with eyes like that of a chocobo but with a snout in place of a beak, three cracked and rotting teeth visible inside, and decorated with what appeared to be a series of burn scars along the nostrils.
Upon seeing her clearly, his features darkened into one of hunger, turning towards the empty darkness behind him and calling out, “Hey, she is over here now! Gonna take her for myself this time!†With his statement finished, he grabbed her by the legs, much to her pained protests and weak thrashing. Excitedly, he dragged her along towards a light, where a number of sickening looking tools lay on display upon the wall; Rusty saws and what appeared to be long and thickened syringes, along with a healthy supply of dirty looking bags and an unpleasantly strong scent of iron. The “thing†plopped her against the wall, fingers running along the bottom of his snout as he savored choosing his tool. Deciding the bag would be the best thing to start with, he snatched one from the wall, pressing it clumsily against Bonslette’s head. Her screams of protest echoed hollow in his ears, and even further away in her own; she found that she could not move, and her vision was slowly beginning to distort and whiten. With the sound of a sickening “popâ€, her consciousness faded again altogether, a familiar feeling of all of her bodies’ weight going into her head overtaking her.
“Why am I here?†she thought as she let herself be guided to and fro by the darkness, unquestioning and without a second thought.
“I wanted to…..do something. Stop someone…..but where? Why? Ah…that’s right…..the man I was chasing. I walked into a trap…but where am I now? What is happening? And why....why is my face so hot?â€
Bonslette abruptly forced herself in a panic onto her feet, the hot cobblestones underneath her now bare feet an unpleasant, but altogether welcome shift from what was happening but moments before. Looking overhead, she could see a beautiful dark blue sky; it appeared to be night out despite the heat. Checking herself over, she found she was far less injured, save a cut on her cheek and a bloody nose. Clutched lovingly into her left hand was her wand, although it still seemed her dagger was missing in action.
Around herself, it appeared to be an alleyway overlooking a river; she was in a city made up of stones and silence. “What is going on?†She thought, attempting to wrap her mind around the drastically changed scenery and feel of her surroundings. Sighing to herself as she tried to remember, she received naught but a horrible headache for her trouble, the distinct feeling of her head splitting in two overcoming her. Deciding that trying to force it was not a good idea, she attempted to gather information about her surroundings instead; this proved to be a waste of an effort, as there were no one in the city to even converse with, no matter where she looked.
As the night waned on, the heat began to rise considerably. She found that she had to rip the sleeves off of her tunic to wrap around her feet to protect them. What initially brought her relief was quickly bringing her dread. Bonslette knew not where she was, only that it was only getting hotter. What would happen if she were here during sunrise? The thought brought no pleasant feelings into her bosom, only the clear understanding that she absolutely must not let that happen. But how would she leave?
So much of what has happened was already so far out of her understanding and ability to comprehend that simply attempting made her woozy. She was hungry, she was exposed, and nothing about the situation she was in made any sense. She should be in some trashy dark alley in Limsa Lominsa, not trekking in dead city attempting to find a way out before she were boiled alive in a city shaped sun bowl.
Realizing that fatigue and thirst had worked against her, she stumbled her way into a nearby building, attempting to rest in the warm shade. Her wand still clutched in her hand, a realization came to her:
“I can make some ice to cool my body! When the ice melts in this heat, I can use it to slake my thirst. If I cannot make it out before sunrise, I can at least hide in one of these houses and continue to keep myself cool until nightfall comes again!â€
No sooner than after she made this grand plan, she heard something rattle and move in the distance; a brief pause before whatever the source was began to move towards her.
[tak tak tak!]
Her night was just beginning.
![[Image: 28204020ff0ed5c1aa261640fdd34687.gif?2856208]](http://simg4.gelbooru.com//images/28/20/28204020ff0ed5c1aa261640fdd34687.gif?2856208)
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