Saturday, January 03, 2004
Character: Mel Gautier
Game: Eternus Infinuum
Back on the ship. Back on the Powell, back in the khaki uniform that she wore proudly day in and day out. Back with Jerry and Gina and Dorsey and Coz.
Sheets twisted about Mel's body as she rolled, hands clutching at the faded blankets. Memories of her days in the Navy filled her dreams, from the roar of fighter jets to the raucous laughter in the galley. Her face contorted as quickly as the images appeared in her mind's eye. Amusement at the birthday cake that Gina had smuggled out of the mess for Dorsey; grief at the news of her mother's death; laughter at the thought of Coz's strange Puerto Rican Santa outfit.
And finally, fear. Fear for Jerry, fear at the sight of liquid death oozing from the weapons track and catching fire as it came in contact with the air. Fear for her crew, fear for her command and the thought that she'd lose everything she'd gained with one freak accident.
No fear for herself, though. That fear came like a blanket of heavy snow, covering the images in her mind. Mel's fear for her own safety came time and time again as she watched herself place steady hands on the weapons track, as she yelled orders to get help and get her crew out.
As the nightmare went on, no one came to help. She saw fire eat through flesh to reveal bone, she saw Jerry burning and screaming in agony, and all she could do was watch. Watch and scream. And scream.
And Mel woke screaming. And crying.
Game: Eternus Infinuum
Back on the ship. Back on the Powell, back in the khaki uniform that she wore proudly day in and day out. Back with Jerry and Gina and Dorsey and Coz.
Sheets twisted about Mel's body as she rolled, hands clutching at the faded blankets. Memories of her days in the Navy filled her dreams, from the roar of fighter jets to the raucous laughter in the galley. Her face contorted as quickly as the images appeared in her mind's eye. Amusement at the birthday cake that Gina had smuggled out of the mess for Dorsey; grief at the news of her mother's death; laughter at the thought of Coz's strange Puerto Rican Santa outfit.
And finally, fear. Fear for Jerry, fear at the sight of liquid death oozing from the weapons track and catching fire as it came in contact with the air. Fear for her crew, fear for her command and the thought that she'd lose everything she'd gained with one freak accident.
No fear for herself, though. That fear came like a blanket of heavy snow, covering the images in her mind. Mel's fear for her own safety came time and time again as she watched herself place steady hands on the weapons track, as she yelled orders to get help and get her crew out.
As the nightmare went on, no one came to help. She saw fire eat through flesh to reveal bone, she saw Jerry burning and screaming in agony, and all she could do was watch. Watch and scream. And scream.
And Mel woke screaming. And crying.
