Frankie Dalton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
never_very_good) wrote2012-05-26 11:23 pm
never_very_good) wrote2012-05-26 11:23 pm
Entry tags:
}| 55 |{
[OFF NETWORK / ACTION FOR EDEN]
[It's still dark when he wakes up, and the only thing he knows for sure is that something's wrong.
He feels-- it's hard to pin down, to define as anything other than wrong on a fundamental level. Sick. Cold, though the weather isn't (though as he thinks it the air in the room trembles a few degrees lower.) Not hungry, but almost; tearing apart inside, like--
like starving, like bad blood, comes the unbidden thought, and he's running for the bathroom-- though if he's right, if there's something to see, there won't be any way of seeing it. When he catches sight of himself in the mirror, rubbing at the edges of his (perfectly normal) ears, the rush of palpable relief is followed by a heavier stab of nausea which has him doubled over retching uselessly. He shuts his eyes. The room darkens; the sparse light turns palpably blue, the tiles curling into sharp, flaking edges around him as the too-heavy air loses a little more heat.
He gasps for breath, in the grasp of errant, borrowed magic, clutching weakly for some purchase on the situation.]
[TEXT; mid-day]
Never know what to expect, these weekends.
Spending this one in, I think.
[TEXT; Private to Amory Felix]
This is you, yeah? Tell me what the fuck to do.
[ooc; powerswapped withfatespoken, and trying not to accidentally destroy reality ;3]
[Community Post]
[It's still dark when he wakes up, and the only thing he knows for sure is that something's wrong.
He feels-- it's hard to pin down, to define as anything other than wrong on a fundamental level. Sick. Cold, though the weather isn't (though as he thinks it the air in the room trembles a few degrees lower.) Not hungry, but almost; tearing apart inside, like--
like starving, like bad blood, comes the unbidden thought, and he's running for the bathroom-- though if he's right, if there's something to see, there won't be any way of seeing it. When he catches sight of himself in the mirror, rubbing at the edges of his (perfectly normal) ears, the rush of palpable relief is followed by a heavier stab of nausea which has him doubled over retching uselessly. He shuts his eyes. The room darkens; the sparse light turns palpably blue, the tiles curling into sharp, flaking edges around him as the too-heavy air loses a little more heat.
He gasps for breath, in the grasp of errant, borrowed magic, clutching weakly for some purchase on the situation.]
[TEXT; mid-day]
Never know what to expect, these weekends.
Spending this one in, I think.
[TEXT; Private to Amory Felix]
This is you, yeah? Tell me what the fuck to do.
[ooc; powerswapped with
fatespoken, and trying not to accidentally destroy reality ;3][Community Post]