After Runa calls to them Harrowheart laughs, still worried and yet bolstered by her eagerness. "Hell, I can't be less brave than Runa. Let's get this over with."
He boards the ride alongside his friends with a stony expression but in short order he's being flung around, and it's so overwhelming! He grips his restraints tightly and tries to focus on one point in the distance, but with the twists of the machine he soon finds it isn't possible. Instead he screws his eyes shut and grits his teeth to endure it until it's over.
And in that moment reality feels very much like a memory. He isn't in control of where he's going. He can't move the way he wants to. All around him is the smell of fear and the sounds of people shrieking. Eyes still closed, world still dark, his hands drop from his harness to his waist but find only emptiness where the handles of his runeblades ought to be. It's for the best. This isn't Northrend, it's England – Earth. This isn't a battlefield, it's a carnival. A place for fun. His fists clench tightly around the cloth of his shorts and he keeps his eyes shut tight.
It's just a ride. It's just a ride. He's having fun. It's just a ride...
When it seems to be slowing he opens his eyes again to see how his friends are faring. They probably didn't have as many unintentional thoughts of bloodshed as he did, but it was certainly scary in its own right. Right? They deserve an attempt at a smile from him, which he nervously provides along with the bubbling of some insincere laughter.
After their feet are on solid ground (and he's readjusted to that bizarre sensation) he hastens to pull out a cigarette and lighter and puff his cares away with glassy, distant eyes. Of course he's gentleman enough to offer a smoke to everyone else, though he's fairly sure none of them are going to take it. Then again, that was some wild ride. You never know what's going to drive someone to their first cigarette.
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He boards the ride alongside his friends with a stony expression but in short order he's being flung around, and it's so overwhelming! He grips his restraints tightly and tries to focus on one point in the distance, but with the twists of the machine he soon finds it isn't possible. Instead he screws his eyes shut and grits his teeth to endure it until it's over.
And in that moment reality feels very much like a memory. He isn't in control of where he's going. He can't move the way he wants to. All around him is the smell of fear and the sounds of people shrieking. Eyes still closed, world still dark, his hands drop from his harness to his waist but find only emptiness where the handles of his runeblades ought to be. It's for the best. This isn't Northrend, it's England – Earth. This isn't a battlefield, it's a carnival. A place for fun. His fists clench tightly around the cloth of his shorts and he keeps his eyes shut tight.
It's just a ride. It's just a ride. He's having fun. It's just a ride...
When it seems to be slowing he opens his eyes again to see how his friends are faring. They probably didn't have as many unintentional thoughts of bloodshed as he did, but it was certainly scary in its own right. Right? They deserve an attempt at a smile from him, which he nervously provides along with the bubbling of some insincere laughter.
After their feet are on solid ground (and he's readjusted to that bizarre sensation) he hastens to pull out a cigarette and lighter and puff his cares away with glassy, distant eyes. Of course he's gentleman enough to offer a smoke to everyone else, though he's fairly sure none of them are going to take it. Then again, that was some wild ride. You never know what's going to drive someone to their first cigarette.