LOCKED TO alchemicals

[deaftly]

[He doesn't remember anything. All he knows is that there's a bright light in his face and he just wants to sleep. After a couple of minutes of tossing and turning he finally opens his eyes and sits up. The room he's in is perfectly white, without any sort of interesting features. There's a desk and a chair, but nothing on either of them. They're as white as the walls and floor, and on closer inspection, the bed he's in is just as white and spotless as the rest of the room. The sheets are a bit on the stiff side even though he's been sleeping under them, and the bed is kind of hard for his liking, so he finally squirms out from under the covers and stands.

The clothes he's wearing strike him as being wrong, though he can't recall what the "right" clothes would be. They're white - like everything else - and they're very simple. He doesn't have anything to compare them to, but the material is soft and kind of thin and feels a little odd. He shrugs off his confusion about the clothes and starts for the door. Even the doorknob is white, which strikes him as strange for about half a second before he yanks the door open.

The room that he enters is spacious. Like the room he woke up in, everything is white. There's a sofa, a small table in front of the sofa, and a couple of plush chairs. There's a couple of doors leading elsewhere, and his first order of business is to see where they lead. One leads to a perfectly white kitchen which isn't interesting right now (though some part of him wonders if the food will be just as white) and the other door he comes to is locked. There should be a front door around here somewhere though, right? He doesn't want to be here. He can't remember why he's here (or anything, really) but being here doesn't seem right.]

Comments

[deaftly]

Same here, actually. I'm not sure why, since this is so nice.

[Huh. Well, it's probably not important!]

[alchemicals]

Yeah.

[...]

You feeling better, then?

[deaftly]

I am, yeah. Thanks.

[Just don't ask him to move!]

[alchemicals]

Good. I wasn't trying to make you all sad and everything earlier.

[He's okay for now!]

[deaftly]

I know you weren't! I mean if you were that'd just be awful, and I don't think you're that horrible!

[alchemicals]

You never know, I could have been the worst human being alive before I got locked in here.

[That's facetious, though.]

I don't like seeing you cry, though, so that's probably a point in my favor.

[deaftly]

Well even if you were the worst, you're not being awful to me.

[...That probably says something about your priorities, Naki.]

I'm glad though. I mean you've been really good to me.

[alchemicals]

[He just laughs a bit at that.]

Hey, as long as your priorities are in the right place, right?

[deaftly]

Exactly!

[...]

Was there something weird about what I said? I think there might have been...

[alchemicals]

What, just now?

[...are we on the same page]

[deaftly]

No, before-- you commented on my priorities? I mean that seems kinda familiar... people telling me my priorities are messed up or something, maybe?

[alchemicals]

...Yeah, it was probably kind of weird. I don't think it was bad, but most people probably wouldn't have said that.

[deaftly]

Oh. Well, I guess I'm not like most people anyway.

[He's kind of smirking when he says it, so at least it's meant as a joke.]

[alchemicals]

Damn good thing - it'd probably be pretty boring in here if you were.

[deaftly]

[Naki laughs at that, pleased with Kimbley's words.]

Yeah, well, I'm glad I'm with you too!

[alchemicals]

[That gets a laugh out of Kimbley, too, and he's quick to muss up Naki's hair a little.]

As well you should be.

[deaftly]

[He makes a face, but he's obviously still pleased anyway.]

Hey, hey, watch the hair...!

[alchemicals]

There's no point in having it long if nobody can play with it once in a while!

[deaftly]

It's not that long though! I mean your's is really long.

[...he kind of wants to play with it...]

[alchemicals]

[He lets one of his hands shift back to touch it a bit when Naki mentions the length, like he's not entirely certain what to do with it.]

...It really is. I've got no idea why, and I still want to know why I let someone with epilepsy cut it last time, but...

[deaftly]

Yeah it's...

[Naki tips his head as he tries to think of how to describe it.]

...it's kind of a mess. The top. I mean, I'm not really sure why you'd keep your hair that long in general; wouldn't it get in the way if you're fighting?

[That's kind of a weird thought to have immediately, isn't it?]

[alchemicals]

I don't know, I guess?

[...]

You like fighting a lot, don't you.

[deaftly]

...I guess I do. Or I did? I'm not really sure how I feel about it now. I mean I've got no issues with beating the shit out of the people who locked us in here, but otherwise? I'm not really sure.

[alchemicals]

Maybe you're good at it. That'd be something, at least.

[deaftly]

Ah, maybe! I'd like that.

[It'd be nice to be good at something, though thankfully he keeps that to himself.]

...I wish we could remember something about our pasts. It really sucks that we just sort of have to guess.