( He is suspended in the abyss; a hand reaches for him, and Will's mind automatically assigns a face to it. He hesitates, but his lungs are running out of air and the void feels oppressive, like it might swallow him whole. He wraps his fingers around the offering, and it pulls him gasping and dripping out of the water.

He doesn't recognize anyone in the room. Or the room. Or most of the contents in the room, which should... probably be more alarming than it initially is, but Will is used to his mind constructing elaborate and vivid fantasies like this.

Usually, it's his mind trying to tell him something.

He has... not the slightest clue what it's trying to tell him right now.

He's understandably stunned and confused as they lead him away, no resistance in his limbs, lips gently parted, mind reeling. He seems dazed, right up until the guards deposit him into a cell and shut the door behind him. A silent second passes, and then he affixes his eyes on his cellmate. Breathes out a lost-sounding: )

Is this real?

( Will is one of the quieter guests in their involuntary barred hotel, restrained save for the few times he stands up to pace across the room and wrap his hands around the iron bars. Strangely enough, he's not actually looking out when he does it — his eyes close, and he seems to retreat into kind of a trance for several minutes. His eyes will snap abruptly open, his shoulders sag, and then he paces back to his cot.

When they're fed, he takes to staring down at the tray with a small measure of discomfort. After a while, he turns his attention his roommate. )

I'm not, ah... big fan of the food.

( He says, offering his tray out with the meat pointed at his cellmate. All yours if you want it, he'll stick with the bread and the salad. )

( dungeon visitors or neighboring cells can catch Will leaning against the bars, his hands threaded through and lightly clasped, either surveying them or staring out into absolutely nothing. also feel free to wildcard me with any other kind of shenanigan. )