[yeah, you usually attack the crazy things. or go the opposite direction. =P]
Albedo came off of sedation straight into it again.
The chemical concoction had came late in the day, and had lasted throughout the night, short as it seemed. The edges were just starting to fade when morning settled around him; soft sheets instead of gnashing teeth. He could scream.
And did, at length. Normally, the boy had some semblance of sense. Calling attention to oneself just added trouble, especially when there were things necessary to hide. But after that... After the horde, and Rubedo fighting for them, all for naught. And Nigredo quiet at his back, saying the sentence Albedo couldn't think about, wouldn't think about. -"I don't want to die."- And knowing, somewhere in his sedated lost mind, that they couldn't come back like he did, that they could and would possibly die in this scenario, and then he would be alone, they would be taken away from him-- Throwing himself into the horde as a distraction, as a feeder tray, wasn't the best plan, but it was desperation and sedation, and none of U-DO for once, and they could have died!
He screamed, and he fought the nurses that came, and he tore his room apart in his desperate struggle. Two unknown injections later, and his questions were answered in basic form before the haze slipped back over his eyes. 'George' was fine. 'Nigel' was fine. They were perfectly alright. A part of him caught the hesitation at Nigredo's fake name, but it was soon swept away with the rest; leaving, once more, a consuming loneliness and a deep unending depression. And no brothers in sight, even if they were in the mind to choose to comfort.
And so Albedo couldn't contemplate the confusion of the past twenty-four hours. Not going to Nigredo for comfort; not, then, attempting to murder him; not afterward when they did something close to cuddling in comfort; and not even at night, when he gave himself freely for a chance at their lives. No, none of that was present, and neither was his taint. A part of him wished for U-DO then, anything but this loneliness. Anything but this pain. He understood 'chapel', and still found it ironic. Other day, and he could be quoting parables to fit the theme. As it was, he found himself the lost lamb, hoping for something, a well-known shepherd perhaps, to find him and lead him back from being astray. He had lost himself on this path. He couldn't find....
His wounds from the night previous were healing at a snail's pace comparatively--even so, it was rapid for most humans. The flesh could visibly be seen repairing itself if one looked; most bites already faded to red scars that would continue to lighten as time went on. The deep gouge in his forearm was bandaged, but the wound along the top of the tendon above his collarbone lay uncovered, forgotten, and he would have fixated on all of the slow, slow, non-instant healing if he could. But instead he was sat down on a bench. Sitting, however, did not work, and he found himself tilting, upper body sliding down until he hit something that was decidedly not a wooden bench.
no subject
Albedo came off of sedation straight into it again.
The chemical concoction had came late in the day, and had lasted throughout the night, short as it seemed. The edges were just starting to fade when morning settled around him; soft sheets instead of gnashing teeth. He could scream.
And did, at length. Normally, the boy had some semblance of sense. Calling attention to oneself just added trouble, especially when there were things necessary to hide. But after that... After the horde, and Rubedo fighting for them, all for naught. And Nigredo quiet at his back, saying the sentence Albedo couldn't think about, wouldn't think about. -"I don't want to die."- And knowing, somewhere in his sedated lost mind, that they couldn't come back like he did, that they could and would possibly die in this scenario, and then he would be alone, they would be taken away from him-- Throwing himself into the horde as a distraction, as a feeder tray, wasn't the best plan, but it was desperation and sedation, and none of U-DO for once, and they could have died!
He screamed, and he fought the nurses that came, and he tore his room apart in his desperate struggle. Two unknown injections later, and his questions were answered in basic form before the haze slipped back over his eyes. 'George' was fine. 'Nigel' was fine. They were perfectly alright. A part of him caught the hesitation at Nigredo's fake name, but it was soon swept away with the rest; leaving, once more, a consuming loneliness and a deep unending depression. And no brothers in sight, even if they were in the mind to choose to comfort.
And so Albedo couldn't contemplate the confusion of the past twenty-four hours. Not going to Nigredo for comfort; not, then, attempting to murder him; not afterward when they did something close to cuddling in comfort; and not even at night, when he gave himself freely for a chance at their lives. No, none of that was present, and neither was his taint. A part of him wished for U-DO then, anything but this loneliness. Anything but this pain. He understood 'chapel', and still found it ironic. Other day, and he could be quoting parables to fit the theme. As it was, he found himself the lost lamb, hoping for something, a well-known shepherd perhaps, to find him and lead him back from being astray. He had lost himself on this path. He couldn't find....
His wounds from the night previous were healing at a snail's pace comparatively--even so, it was rapid for most humans. The flesh could visibly be seen repairing itself if one looked; most bites already faded to red scars that would continue to lighten as time went on. The deep gouge in his forearm was bandaged, but the wound along the top of the tendon above his collarbone lay uncovered, forgotten, and he would have fixated on all of the slow, slow, non-instant healing if he could. But instead he was sat down on a bench. Sitting, however, did not work, and he found himself tilting, upper body sliding down until he hit something that was decidedly not a wooden bench.