002 — [ visual ] / [ location: casa lehane ]˳

[sneersgenetic.livejournal.com]

The floor was littered with sharp shards of glass that shimmered in the pool of water that had formed around them from where Connor's grip had gone slack and his glass had slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. He'd been startled by the newest specter to haunt Casa Lehane and was currently trying to avoid going near it to the point that he had his back pressed so hard against the wall behind him that it was almost as if he was trying to melt into it. His eyes were wide, never leaving the form of the invader. Not wanting to go near her was one thing, not being able to look away was another, for this was someone he never thought he'd have to see again.

Jasmine. And her figure turned towards him, slowly and Connor flinched like he'd just been slapped.

"You're not real," he told the ghost, though he didn't sound too confident in his declaration. "You're like the others, just an apparition."

She didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't blink. Didn't look away. ...must she continue to stare at him?

01 - [ Visual ]

[captbrowncoat.livejournal.com]

Mal slowly opens his eyes, only to be greeted by a blurred mess of metallic colors. No exciting colors, no outstanding landmarks. His vision clears, and he sees that he’s in a circular chamber. Only problem is, he’s never seen this chamber before before. He sits up in a rush, and wildly looks around him, taking in the plain, undecorated room.

His hand instinctively goes to his waist, where he gropes around in a fruitless search for his gun. But it’s not there, and he shivers involuntarily, not liking being unarmed. He glances at his wrist, where there’s a bracelet that’s been fused to his arm. How did that get there? It wasn’t there before…

Something doesn’t feel right about this – his normal clothes are gone, his weapon is nowhere to be found, and he has no idea where in the ruttin’ universe he is. He thinks maybe a job went wrong, and he ended up stranded somewhere, but that doesn’t explain the foggy quality of his memories.

Suddenly, his confused train of thought is interrupted by the unexpected sound of voices coming from nowhere, which causes him to jump. He does a half turn, and reaches over in the direction the voices came from.

...

It’s some form of communication device. That’s the best that he can tell, just from looking at it. A string of jumbled Chinese curse words leaves his mouth as he pokes at some of the buttons and the screen on the object. He pulls his hand away slowly, deciding that the object is harmless enough. “Well, ain’t this a nice development,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna have to find out who put this bracelet on me and make them take them off. I don’t need jewelry, I need to find out where I am and how to get back to my ship.”

That being said, Mal stands up and looks around him for a few seconds. He sees nothing worth commenting on, except for the device and the occasional odd pillar. This place doesn’t look too out of the ordinary, though he’s definitely never seen it before. There might be a secret to it or something. He moves over to sit down with his back against the nearest wall, and waits for someone to come along and explain exactly what’s going on.