by Will Stanton » Mon Mar 28, 2011 2:04 am
She pushed forward, but that wall of clay was miles thick, if you remember---and so she just got a little bit before it firmed up, pushing her deeper into the machine---where she, and the clay around her, was grabbed. Fiercely.
Now, in the real world, the resulting manipulations would have broken Rachel's spine in about 12 places, as well as quite possibly fracturing her skull, puncturing her lungs, and causing all sorts of other internal injuries.
Fortunately, this is all very much a metaphor for what actually is going on, mentally, so Rachel was not permanently marred or anything. No, the act of smashing her down, working her around, folding and bending and rounding her out would not even actually be painful, per se.
Uncomfortable as HELL, though. Not a pleasant experience, at all. How the hell did Will enjoy this?
The machine kept winding her, and the clay, down and down, until it popped her out on the other side, a perfectly round orb, eyes on the outside, likely blinking comically, as BlackHat Will stood in front of her, crossarmed.
PLASTICINE