Betty Cooper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
missmcguyver) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hellhouse2019-06-19 02:10 am
missmcguyver) wrote in hellhouse2019-06-19 02:10 am
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WHO: Betty Cooper & Prompto Argentum
WHAT: Arrival and meeting
WHEN: Day two, Early morning
WARNINGS: TBD - you kind of never know until you get into things with Betty!
Ladies and gentlemen, to those among you who are easily frightened we suggest you turn away now. To those of you who think they can take it we say: Welcome to the mad house!
Betty's consciousness re-emerging brings everything rushing back, albeit slowly because she had fizzle rocks forced down her throat, but the images of the last thing she remembers come rushing back and as her eyes pop open, as if on a springtrap. Before her mind, or her eyes, can catch up with what her current situation is - or what is going on - a scream bubbles up and rips from her throat. The Gargoyle King. Seeing what Sister Woodhouse has been torturing the poor kids thrown into the awaiting and cruel grasp of the Sisters of Mercy in her mind's eye Betty can't help but shiver, the scream cutting off, and the rush of dry air at such a rapid rate searing her throat and causing a cough even as the blonde scrambles to get up.
Why is she sitting at a table? Why is the table set? Who is the man that's sitting there? The questions trail along rapidfire right alongside her brain trying to process all of the stimuli around her. The table looks like it's been eaten from, there's a record player, and the man is in what Betty'd call fancy clothes. That's not what anybody wears at Sister's of Mercy.
Her brain continues on, taking everything possible in a matter of a few seconds. The last two realizations that she takes in, and sees, being the fact that...she's wearing some sort of floral and striped dress in the colors white, pink, and little green accents on the flowers. They look like curtains to her, even if the 3/4 sleeves seem overly puffy in comparison to how tightly the thing fits on her chest and hips. And she's got pale pink stilettos - Betty doesn't wear stilettos...she's not Veronica. The thought is throwaway before one of the most important observation hits her as she tugs at the elbow of her dress - looking nervous and sheepish and yet trying not to (as well as trying not to feel that way). There is a cellphone, or it looks like a cell phone screen anyway, implanted in her forearm.
"Who are you? What's going on - why is there a phone in my ar--" Betty's growing frantic voice is cut off by the recording beginning and she backs up away from the glow of the candles and her current companion, fear shining in her wide, blue eyes as she takes in every word struggling between fear, anger, and a myriad of other emotions that she can't sort out. Her hands are fists, fingers tight and nails digging into her palms in the overwhelmed state of all of this hitting her at once - eyes shutting at the snarl. No, no, no, no. This can't be happening.
She already struggles with feeling crazy, with craziness in Riverdale, she can't handle this on top of the rest of that. Is this a part of Sister Woodhouse, of Ethel's, plan - or of Griffins and Gargoyle's? It doesn't feel like it - wrong era and all. Closing her eyes, Betty shakes her head, as if she might be able to shut this all out and open back up to see the Gargoyle King instead, but when she opens them up the scene is no different. "No...this can't be happening..." None of it makes sense to her.
And all of her previous questions are only half forgotten, even as she shakes her hands out of her fists, one hand going to her forearm, as if she might be able to prove what she sees there is fake...it's not and Betty's brain can't quite figur out where to go next or what to do - the inquizitive blonde frozen there against the wall.
WHAT: Arrival and meeting
WHEN: Day two, Early morning
WARNINGS: TBD - you kind of never know until you get into things with Betty!
Betty's consciousness re-emerging brings everything rushing back, albeit slowly because she had fizzle rocks forced down her throat, but the images of the last thing she remembers come rushing back and as her eyes pop open, as if on a springtrap. Before her mind, or her eyes, can catch up with what her current situation is - or what is going on - a scream bubbles up and rips from her throat. The Gargoyle King. Seeing what Sister Woodhouse has been torturing the poor kids thrown into the awaiting and cruel grasp of the Sisters of Mercy in her mind's eye Betty can't help but shiver, the scream cutting off, and the rush of dry air at such a rapid rate searing her throat and causing a cough even as the blonde scrambles to get up.
Why is she sitting at a table? Why is the table set? Who is the man that's sitting there? The questions trail along rapidfire right alongside her brain trying to process all of the stimuli around her. The table looks like it's been eaten from, there's a record player, and the man is in what Betty'd call fancy clothes. That's not what anybody wears at Sister's of Mercy.
Her brain continues on, taking everything possible in a matter of a few seconds. The last two realizations that she takes in, and sees, being the fact that...she's wearing some sort of floral and striped dress in the colors white, pink, and little green accents on the flowers. They look like curtains to her, even if the 3/4 sleeves seem overly puffy in comparison to how tightly the thing fits on her chest and hips. And she's got pale pink stilettos - Betty doesn't wear stilettos...she's not Veronica. The thought is throwaway before one of the most important observation hits her as she tugs at the elbow of her dress - looking nervous and sheepish and yet trying not to (as well as trying not to feel that way). There is a cellphone, or it looks like a cell phone screen anyway, implanted in her forearm.
"Who are you? What's going on - why is there a phone in my ar--" Betty's growing frantic voice is cut off by the recording beginning and she backs up away from the glow of the candles and her current companion, fear shining in her wide, blue eyes as she takes in every word struggling between fear, anger, and a myriad of other emotions that she can't sort out. Her hands are fists, fingers tight and nails digging into her palms in the overwhelmed state of all of this hitting her at once - eyes shutting at the snarl. No, no, no, no. This can't be happening.
She already struggles with feeling crazy, with craziness in Riverdale, she can't handle this on top of the rest of that. Is this a part of Sister Woodhouse, of Ethel's, plan - or of Griffins and Gargoyle's? It doesn't feel like it - wrong era and all. Closing her eyes, Betty shakes her head, as if she might be able to shut this all out and open back up to see the Gargoyle King instead, but when she opens them up the scene is no different. "No...this can't be happening..." None of it makes sense to her.
And all of her previous questions are only half forgotten, even as she shakes her hands out of her fists, one hand going to her forearm, as if she might be able to prove what she sees there is fake...it's not and Betty's brain can't quite figur out where to go next or what to do - the inquizitive blonde frozen there against the wall.