Trapped in a snowglobe
Jan. 16th, 2008 01:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
head_psychic[In response to this and this.]
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It's a snowglobe.
It's an actual snowglobe.
If this wasn't so seriously screwed up Shawn might have even laughed. He checks his pulse, his breath, his heartbeat, takes a good long look at every vein he can find, excluding every possibility whatsoever that he has been drugged mindless. That only leaves two possibilities: Either he has lost his mind or he is trapped in a freaking snowglobe.
Just... without the snow. And the water.
Either that or he has some weird multidimensional perception going on that lets him breath underwater and still feel like there's air around him. Maybe that's it. Or maybe not, since that would suck, given the fact this his surrounding is supposed to be some kind of beach. Snow would probably look quite strange, now that he thinks about it.
As weird as something like snow on a beach can look to you when you're trapped in a freaking snowglobe.
There's a sign, Welcome to Florida. That about kills him. It reminds him of the time his dad moved to Miami and it really doesn't improve his mood. At all. 24 hours. That's what that stupid freak had told him before the fake psychic had found himself in this mess. Where was Jack Bauer when you needed him? Or, even more important... what would Mr. T do?!
Of course Shawn has tried everything by now, banging his fists against the glass, kicking, yelling, trying to move the thing which only rewards him with a seriously annoying pain in his left shoulder.
That, and it seriously affronts his dignity (because, yes, you still have dignity in a snowglobe). Since he doesn't know what Mr. T would do he decides he will just sleep until this stupid nonesense is over and not give anyone the satisfaction of actually freaking out.
Shawn slumps into the sand and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he's in a stupid SNOWGLOBE which alone is enough to fry his brain. Nah, don't think of it. Don't think of what this is, or all the images already burned into your head. This is just like the beach, he keeps telling himself, just like the beach. He just needs to chill.
That actually helps. He makes a whole lot of sixteen minutes until he jumps up again.
It's not the snowglobe that ticks him off, he's not scared or anything, because there is nothing scary about a snowglobe, not unless you're a little girl called Carline. He's just bored, because he can't go anywhere. And Shawn hates not being able to go anywhere. He hates being trapped.
This reminds him of the car incident, of his dad, arresting him, putting him into that cell, just because he felt like Shawn needed it and apparently Lassy decided that he needed this because Shawn knows Lassy is behind this and for the first time in his life this analogy really makes him hate the detective.
He starts pacing, biting his lower lip, feeling like a caged animal. He already knows every freaking detail in this prison, even knows by now that this snowglobe probably has once fallen from a shelf or anything because he can make out the small scratch on the glass. He already knows how many coconuts, how many stones, how many freaking blades of grass. Another hour and he might know how many grains of sand! Shawn rubs his eyes, angry, frustrated, because he needs to see more, can't have his space limited to such a ridicilous size.
This is great. It's not even been an hour and he's already going crazy.
He takes a stick and writes I'm a celebrity... get me out of here! into the sand. Even though that show sucked.
It takes a lot to make Shawn Spencer seriously angry.
This here does.
---
It's a snowglobe.
It's an actual snowglobe.
If this wasn't so seriously screwed up Shawn might have even laughed. He checks his pulse, his breath, his heartbeat, takes a good long look at every vein he can find, excluding every possibility whatsoever that he has been drugged mindless. That only leaves two possibilities: Either he has lost his mind or he is trapped in a freaking snowglobe.
Just... without the snow. And the water.
Either that or he has some weird multidimensional perception going on that lets him breath underwater and still feel like there's air around him. Maybe that's it. Or maybe not, since that would suck, given the fact this his surrounding is supposed to be some kind of beach. Snow would probably look quite strange, now that he thinks about it.
As weird as something like snow on a beach can look to you when you're trapped in a freaking snowglobe.
There's a sign, Welcome to Florida. That about kills him. It reminds him of the time his dad moved to Miami and it really doesn't improve his mood. At all. 24 hours. That's what that stupid freak had told him before the fake psychic had found himself in this mess. Where was Jack Bauer when you needed him? Or, even more important... what would Mr. T do?!
Of course Shawn has tried everything by now, banging his fists against the glass, kicking, yelling, trying to move the thing which only rewards him with a seriously annoying pain in his left shoulder.
That, and it seriously affronts his dignity (because, yes, you still have dignity in a snowglobe). Since he doesn't know what Mr. T would do he decides he will just sleep until this stupid nonesense is over and not give anyone the satisfaction of actually freaking out.
Shawn slumps into the sand and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he's in a stupid SNOWGLOBE which alone is enough to fry his brain. Nah, don't think of it. Don't think of what this is, or all the images already burned into your head. This is just like the beach, he keeps telling himself, just like the beach. He just needs to chill.
That actually helps. He makes a whole lot of sixteen minutes until he jumps up again.
It's not the snowglobe that ticks him off, he's not scared or anything, because there is nothing scary about a snowglobe, not unless you're a little girl called Carline. He's just bored, because he can't go anywhere. And Shawn hates not being able to go anywhere. He hates being trapped.
This reminds him of the car incident, of his dad, arresting him, putting him into that cell, just because he felt like Shawn needed it and apparently Lassy decided that he needed this because Shawn knows Lassy is behind this and for the first time in his life this analogy really makes him hate the detective.
He starts pacing, biting his lower lip, feeling like a caged animal. He already knows every freaking detail in this prison, even knows by now that this snowglobe probably has once fallen from a shelf or anything because he can make out the small scratch on the glass. He already knows how many coconuts, how many stones, how many freaking blades of grass. Another hour and he might know how many grains of sand! Shawn rubs his eyes, angry, frustrated, because he needs to see more, can't have his space limited to such a ridicilous size.
This is great. It's not even been an hour and he's already going crazy.
He takes a stick and writes I'm a celebrity... get me out of here! into the sand. Even though that show sucked.
It takes a lot to make Shawn Spencer seriously angry.
This here does.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 01:58 pm (UTC)He has to pause and mentally steel himself, taking deep breaths through his nose, same as he prepares himself before a big bust. The last thing he wants to do is drop it, apart from the fall hurting him, he's not sure what will become of Shawn if the globe breaks.
Reaching out and gripping it firmly, he takes the globe off his desk and slips it in his jacket pocket. He's going to put
Shawnit somewhere safe until the 24 hours is up.no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 02:09 pm (UTC)Shawn stumbles, curses, falls into the sand. What the hell? A freaking earthquake?
Or...
"Whoever is out there, you better not get the fancy idea of shaking that thing because if you shake that thing the spirits will come and eat your soul! If you have one, which I seriously doubt, because you just caused sand getting into my mouth. Which is evil!!"
Shawn doesn't know if anyone out there can actually hear him. Not that he cares while he is ranting. He doesn't get an answer though.
And then it's dark.
Like... really dark.
Well, isn't this just getting better and better! "Hey!! Oh, come on, you've got to be kidding me! This is a beach! There is supposed to be sun!"
no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 03:14 pm (UTC)Spencer is inside it, isn't he? Lassiter stops in his tracks on his way to his car, glances around the carpark, and then pulls the globe out of his pocket. Bringing it up to his face with a grimace, he peers inside at the beach scene, which makes the globe even more strange because snowglobes should have snow.
Twisting, he tilts the ornament into the sun so he can see inside.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-16 04:33 pm (UTC)And the evening and the morning were the second day. He snorts and squints at the same time, shielding his eyes against the sudden brightness and blinks.
Well.
The fact that a giant Lassiter face is hovering over his prison makes him think maybe brightness (or darkness for all he cares) isn't so bad. Shawn stares for a second and groans, rubbing his forehead, already knowing this is gonna be a month of freaky nightmares. "What are you lookin' at?" he snaps and pats the sand off his clothes.