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Apr. 19th, 2018 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slipsintomeEcho starts awake with a soft gasp. Remote wiping is always more painful than chair wiping. She can smell the blood in and under her nose, and she groans softly as she sits up.
Sometimes, she wants to kill Topher for inventing it.
At once, she knows she's not in the Dollhouse. She should be — that's the only reason for remote wiping, is to bring someone back. But she's not there. She's... not sure where she is, actually. Esther Carpenter assures her she's indoors, even as Taffy starts casing for exits.
She's not alone, either. She must look impressive — paramilitary outfit, blood on her face, on the floor of... Where is she?
There's a label on the top of a spinning display, offering sales on all winter-themed animal merchandise. Below it, the spinner is filled with postcards, with varying animals on them.
She's in a museum gift shop. Huh.
"That's... different," she says, mostly to herself.
Sometimes, she wants to kill Topher for inventing it.
At once, she knows she's not in the Dollhouse. She should be — that's the only reason for remote wiping, is to bring someone back. But she's not there. She's... not sure where she is, actually. Esther Carpenter assures her she's indoors, even as Taffy starts casing for exits.
She's not alone, either. She must look impressive — paramilitary outfit, blood on her face, on the floor of... Where is she?
There's a label on the top of a spinning display, offering sales on all winter-themed animal merchandise. Below it, the spinner is filled with postcards, with varying animals on them.
She's in a museum gift shop. Huh.
"That's... different," she says, mostly to herself.
