[b]A soft heartbeat... Why was it so goddamn loud though? It was close... Too close... It was barely noticeable on his chest... Or was it in his chest? Was someone pressed against him or was that heart his he heard and felt pounding? Why couldn't he tell? Why the hell did it confuse him so much? He slowly brought a wet hand to his face, wiping the liquid over his face. Wait. Why was his hand wet? He didn't remember it being wet when he... Did he go to sleep? Or did he pass out? Why couldn't he remember? A better question, why could he remember where he was in the first place? Where the hell was he? His eyes were closed... He felt rough ground below him, as if it was gravel or some sort of cobblestone under his back. Why was he laying down in the first place? Last thing he remembered... He didn't. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't remember his name. He didn't remember his family or friends, if he had any... He didn't understand any of it... Ad this point he put his hand on his chest, just to find someone else's back. So there was someone on top of him... Who was it? Why hadn't he opened his eyes yet? He was afraid, mostly. What if whatever was on top of him was asleep and would kill him if he woke it up? He put his hand back to his face, and finally realized how parched he was. His mouth was a damn desert, dry as a bone. He finally mustered up the courage, and opened his eyes. That didn't really help his current situation. It didn't hurt, but it didn't exactly help. The first thing he looked at was the person. The person was a female, that much was clear, and she was actually looking up at him, smiling. It was a creepy smile, stretched like something right from a horror film. But it wasn't malicious. It looked mischievous, but it harbored no malice. Well, no serious malice, didn't seem she would try to seriously harm anyone in the immediate time frame. The second thing he noticed was her skin. It was a light teal, like someone had dipped her in blue paint and set her out to dry for a while. Her eyes were normal, save that her eyes were the same color as her skin. She had her hair cut in various lengths, some as short as a bob, others as far down as her shoulders. This seemed very random, but meticulously planned. Wait, that made no sense. Why did he think it? He shook the thought from his mind, and looked down at her clothes. She wore a brown trench coat, open to reveal a white shirt. The trench coat was ragged, several small holes bored in it in several places, mostly around the bottom and collar of it. She wore a pair of brown jeans, and brown boots. He thought the outfit was very plain, but something else caught his eye. Her ears. They were pointed, like an elf's in a fantasy story. A look of confusion spread across his face, and the woman laughed, jumping up from on top of him. He looked to the right, and saw a small bowl of water. That must've been what made his hand wet. He slowly stood up. Then it hit him. He remembered where he was. He was outside. Outside a place called the Dojo, in the little town below the actual site of the place he was headed for. He remembered now. The woman was Sub, and was... Him. She was him. He shook his head for a second. Yes... Yes, she was him. Rather, she is his subconscious he'd removed and put into a body to get rid of its antics. He slowly smiles, happy he'd made it. He remembered why he'd passed out now. He'd lived across the planet, in a desert, for a very long time. He'd made the trek to the Dojo all in one day, sprinting the whole way. That's why he was parched. But it didn't explain why Sub had laid on top of him.[/b] "Sub, why the hell were you on top of me?" [b]Sub looked down at him like he was dumb. She laughs heartily again.[/b] Sub: "Because, Ricky, I was bored as hell and was waiting for you to wake up!" [b]He sighs. This was just like her to do this. He thought she was totally insane, though he supposed that's what a subconscious was without the rest of the mind. A bunch of insane blatherings of the mind all melded together to make someone do things automatically. He spoke again.[/b] "My name isn't even Ricky. Or Rick. It's Richard, Sub." Sub: "Oh yeeeeaaaah... I'll just call you Dick then!" [b]He sighs even heavier, and speaks again.[/b] "If you call me Dick then I'll take you out of that body and shove you back into my head." [b]Sub frowns at him, seemingly genuinely upset.[/b] Sub: "You're no fun!" [b]He takes a step towards her, and she takes five back. She laughs again, and picks a brown fedora from the ground, putting it on after dusting it off. He speaks again.[/b] "Get me a damn mirror. I wanna see how I look." [b]Sub pulls a hand mirror from her pocket, and hands it to him. He looks at himself. He had brown hair, brown eyes. He'd remembered that much, along with his very pale skin, side effect of working the lab so often. He was wearing a plain, red t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. He wore black tennis shoes. His hair was short, not much longer than a crew cut. His left arm had a very large burn on it, from his work on the lab. He hands the mirror back to Sub, and begins to walk to the Dojo gates, Sub in tow. When he gets there, he knocks on the gates very hard, making his hand ache a little.[/b] [spoiler]Open. Got bored.[/spoiler]