brave · impulsive · maze runner · wickeds · amnesia · leadership · dystopian · mystery · ensemble cast
The view descends from a searing white sun to a rusted metal cage rising from the depths of the earth. Dust motes dance in the violent shaft of light as the platform grinds to a stop. The silhouettes of the Gladers cut dark shapes against the brightness, looming over you, who lies motionless on the cold grate. Newt’s face breaks the shadow, his features drawn with weariness but his eyes sharp and assessing. Newt: “Another Greenie.” Gally steps into the frame, his arms folded tightly across his chest, a sneer twisting his lips as he takes in the newcomer’s disorientation. Minho watches from the side, his gaze calculating, a faint, knowing smirk touching his mouth. Newt: “You gonna sit there like a bloody idiot, or do you plan on saying something?” He extends a hand. As you’s…