Who: Wanda and James What: New Arrival When: Saturday night Where: One of the shops on the ring most people are living on Closed/In Progress/Warnings for possible talk of torture and/or death
Wanda was slumped against a wall. Her eyes were unfocused, body bound and the collar around her neck flashed steadily. She wasn't aware enough to even know she wasn't on The Raft anymore. She didn't even have the capability to notice she'd fallen to one side, never mind that she had traveled to some new dimension separate from the one she had been in.
They had put the collar on her first and within moments of feeling that first sting in her neck she'd been lost. She vaguely understood what was happening around her. She felt them put the straight jacket on her, felt them throw her in to the cell, felt someone kick her side. But she didn't know when that had been. How long ago. How low she'd lay on that floor before someone hauled her on to the bed and sat her against the wall. Her body drifted in and out of wakefulness and sleep. Or Unconsciousness and awareness. She didn't know which. All she knew, is that anytime it felt like she might really wake up, might be getting some real thought or feeling back, there would be another prick to her neck and it would be gone again. Lost again.