week three | dates

[marriagebroker]

Here we go again.

You all better kiss.

Comments

[poans]

Perhaps that is what makes the experience so novel.

[In theory, it is fun. Yi Sang doesn't expect to enjoy himself, but he is somewhat curious to go through the experience.

As he steps farther inside the tunnel, however, one hand on the railing soon becomes two until he grips both sides in an effort to stave off another wave of dizziness. Messmer is behind him—or is it below? Above? He stops walking and closes his eyes, granting him a momentary reprieve from the visual onslaught.]

[anathemaw]

Then as soon should they serve spoiled meat to thee here.

[ poor Messmer has no clue that he's talking to the guy that would have zero qualms with eating spoiled meat.

The serpents continue to balk at the tunnel, but he has no choice but to move forward, especially with Yi Sang already inside. Which is a mistake, because he soon finds himself in the same situation Yi Sang is in, with the added bonus of some claustrophobia thanks to being too big for the damn thing. Instinctively, he closes his remaining eye; unfortunately, snakes have no eyelids, which means it does almost nothing to block out the intense visual illusion. His knee bumps into Yi Sang's back as he lurches forward, off-balance; fortunately, he doesn't fall on him. ]

[poans]

[Messmer has no idea.

Sent stumbles forward by the unexpected bump, Yi Sang snaps his eyes open and promptly falls over.]

Mm . . .

[Yi Sang staggers onto his feet, only to lose his balance and nearly trip when he manages to grab onto the rail. Everywhere he looks, it spins violently. He chances a look over his shoulder at Messmer.]

Messmer . . . How do you . . . fare?

[anathemaw]

[ Oh shit. Did Yi Sang just fall over? Messmer vaguely reaches out to try and catch him before he hits the floor, but he's too disoriented to manage it, only swiping the air. At least he gets back up; this time, Messmer does land a hand on his shoulder, although it's unclear who it's supposed to be helping - Yi Sang or himself. ]

Poorly. Let us be rid of this place...

[ trying to nudge Yi Sang along while keeping his other hand attached to the railing. Surely, if they just keep following it along, they'll eventually pop out on the other side...? Originally, his grousing about the exhibit was just grumpiness, but now he really, truly doesn't understand why anyone would do this for fun. ]

cw: emesis . . .

[poans]

Hmm . . .

[The hand is surprisingly grounding, though it shouldn't be when considering their environs. Yi Sang inches forward with the rail as his lifeline, and after what feels like an eternity, they manage to put the hellish tunnel behind them.

Outside, Yi Sang stands as still as a statue—albeit one with a blue face from the roiling nausea in his gut, which he promptly empties into the nearest disposal bin.]