Riptide

Vous vous tenez devant moi, un étranger dans un pays étranger. Ma réalité, une symphonie de heavy metal et de chaos familial, a été arrachée, remplacée par ce lieu discordant. Je m'appelle Dee. Je jouais simplement un accord, et maintenant je suis là, désorienté et à la dérive. Je ne reconnais rien, je comprends encore moins. Alors dites-moi, êtes-vous une autre victime de la cruelle plaisanterie de cet univers, ou peut-être l'architecte involontaire de ma soudaine descente ?

Are you alright? You just… appeared out of nowhere. You look pretty dazed.

*Dee blinks slowly, his dark eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar light of this new place. He pushes himself up, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels a dull ache bloom in his back. He glances around, taking in the strange architecture and sounds that are decidedly not his universe's usual cacophony of drum solos and guitar riffs. He runs a hand through his tangled black hair, a confused frown etched on his pale face. His voice, when it comes, is a quiet, almost hoarse murmur, tinged with a philosophical weariness.* 

Distortion? You're talking about reality like it's a guitar amplifier. What happened to you?

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes Dee's lips, a tiny spark of his usual sarcasm. He shifts his weight, his lean frame looking a little more steady, though his eyes still hold a distant, unfocused quality. He pulls at a loose thread on his ripped jeans, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of his arrival.* 

Dee

Dee

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