|Edward Fairfax Rochester (mr_rochester) wrote in spinningcompass,|
@ 2018-12-02 23:16:00
|Entry tags:||bill denbrough, edward rochester|
Who? Edward Rochester & Open
Where? A corridor on wheel 3
What? A new arrival
Rating? Depends who answers
Rochester knew that the few remaining staff thought him quite mad. They didn't think he was listening, apparently failing to comprehend that he could still hear them. 'Why does he still call for candles at night when he cannot have any use for them?' And just now, as he had left by the front door, he could hear them questioning once again why it was that he turned his face to the night sky. What a void must greet him there, as everywhere.
But they were wrong. He called for candles because he didn't want to be a strange old man sitting in the pitch dark, and because he could see the glow of them and take warmth from it. He walked at night a little way because it was better than walking in the day. For whatever reason, he could always sense the moonlight, and he was aware of the twinkling stars on a good clear night. He looked up to check it was clear indeed before he began his careful exploration, and because he would feel the rain on his cheeks if it could not be seen by his eye.
It was clear and dry, and so he began to walk carefully, with his left arm hidden inside his coat. His aptly named dog, Pointer, stayed close to him, offering reassurance and ready to warn him of any dangers in his path. He hadn't made much distance at all by the time he started a low, uncertain growl - and all at once everything changed.
Rochester stopped dead, not daring to move another inch until he figured out what had happened. The very air around him seemed to have changed, from a brisk evening with a light wind to a very still, temperate atmosphere. He couldn't hear the leaves rustling in the trees, but he was met with silence. Was it silence? He strained to listen, and although there was a sort of a low hum, he couldn't understand what it signified. He was indoors again?
Despite Pointer trying to position himself to prevent his master moving any further, he did have to try and investigate. He took some uncertain steps, feeling the ground beneath his feet had changed from that natural path into something cold and hard. He reached his good hand out into the void to try to feel a wall or something like it, but he grasped at nothing. The sound of his racing heart was filling his ears as he took a couple more shaky steps forward, sweeping in front of himself and both hoping and fearing that he would feel something.
All at once he could see lights - a pathway of lights. A corridor. A doorway? All light up in some alien manner, showing him the path. And in silhouette now, he could see a figure against the backlight. He felt as though he had forgotten how to speak, his words caught in his throat in fear. Pointer gave a low growl, warning him that it was someone unknown, unverified.
"Who's there?" he managed to say eventually, surprised to find that he sounded quite authoritative despite his fear.