rlyprivateperson: (wasn't expecting that)
Harold Finch ([personal profile] rlyprivateperson) wrote in [community profile] sojournerdeep2016-10-03 06:37 am

Location - a disturbing hallway

There is a passageway in Sojourner dotted with irregularly-placed stone plinths that serve as columns for a latticed ceiling. The first thing one might notice about it is the scent wafting forth; a sweet, warm smell that is... well, what is it? A scent from one's childhood, surely, a comforting scent. Fresh bread for some. Mown grass for others. But it's a scent that tugs one's lips into a smile, and twinges a string of nostalgia in the heart, and more often than not, draws feet in that direction.

Finch has one such pair of feet. He limps down the corridor, his leashed dog at his side; and he pauses occasionally to sniff the air, to smile absently, then to resume his forward progress and idle inspection of each of the rough-hewn stone monoliths he passes. There are no markings, but they glitter as if fine mica or quartz had been dusted along their slate-dark surfaces.

Another scent, replacing the fragrance of (for Harold Finch) a pot roast dinner. This one is... thick in the air, cloying, and Finch pauses with a slow blush creeping up his neck. (For Harold Finch, it's now the smell of a former lover's aftershave; for others it might be any number of scents that bring to mind intimate moments.) After a long, hesitating moment (while Bear whines in confusion, his canine nose registering entirely different things than a human might), he keeps going.

And any others who follow this fascinating olfactory trail to its conclusion - well, they find Harold Finch standing at a blank wall that fills the passage floor to ceiling. It appears to be steel - or something like it - its blank, ugly surface scarred and pitted with gouges and gashes, like a spoon put down the garbage disposal.

And for those viewing it? They feel a curious sense of existential dread, visceral, dwelling in the gut rather than the mind. There is no obvious threat. There is no sense of a knife-wielding maniac or a monster about to devour you. There is only that wall, flat, scarred, final as a summary execution, and the slow flooding awareness that all is meaningless, has been meaningless, will always be meaningless.

Harold Finch stands and stars, stands and stares. There is a cold sweat beaded on his brow, and he looks somewhat grey around the gills.

The dog barks, a worried sound, unsure what is wrong with his human but knowing that something surely is.

[ooc: Open to any! Finch is going to stubbornly return to this wall a few times, so multiple people should feel free to jump in and we'll assume chronological jumps if necessary. Feel free to add any details about this hallway you think would be interesting!]
likegrier: (Default)

[personal profile] likegrier 2016-10-29 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
Brier seems unaware entirely that she has said anything surprising.

"Thank you for the help, as well" she says, softly, when they have finished the task. She offers Finch a smile and absently pets Bear for a moment.

"Gravity." she repeats. "Yes. I have been having that trouble. I try to sit down until it passes. It seems smarter to do that, somehow, I suppose I should do that when the lights go out, too."

"Everyone seems very nervous."
likegrier: (Default)

[personal profile] likegrier 2016-11-02 08:46 am (UTC)(link)
Brier nods. She looks down to see Finch's lantern "You're doing all right, it looks like, though." She smiles.

With one last glance at the blanket and one last shudder she starts down the hall, keeping a slow pace out of consideration for Mr. Finch. "Let's get away from...that." she says.

"Are you hungry? I've been...trying to cook. It doesn't go well, always, with the things I get out of the dispenser. But, I can try again."
likegrier: (Default)

[personal profile] likegrier 2016-11-05 10:51 am (UTC)(link)
"If you know where to get bread, I think some would be very nice. All I seem to be able to get out of the dispensers is crackers. I've learned to make a sort of cream soup with some broth and cream sort of stuff I can get out of the dispensers. I've found a root vegetable that tastes a bit like burdock, only softer, and another that's a bit like carrots, only less sweet. It's the best thing I can make, so far. But I will keep working."

She looks over at him "Does that sound like something you would like?"
Edited 2016-11-05 10:52 (UTC)
likegrier: (Default)

[personal profile] likegrier 2016-11-06 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
Brier is a little surprised by the request, but she shakes her head "No, I don't mind. I'll see you this evening?" Whenever evening is...