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damned_institute2010-05-15 11:15 pm
oftemptation.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2010-05-15 11:15 pm
Nightshift 49: M1-M10 Hallway
[from here and outside M4.]
"Haseo?" Endrance knocked once, having finally seemed to learn his lesson about just walking into M4 without knocking or stating his identity first. Once he'd knocked, though, the nerves really set in. What if Haseo wasn't there? What if he'd been taken again? What if --
Stop. Stop that line of thought. He said he needed you...and he'll be here. He'll be here, and if he's not, then you need to pull it together...for his sake. You can't be there if you're falling apart...
He took a deep breath, bracing with one hand against the wall, and waited. A few minutes would tell the story, either way. He could be patient that long.
[for Haseo.]
"Haseo?" Endrance knocked once, having finally seemed to learn his lesson about just walking into M4 without knocking or stating his identity first. Once he'd knocked, though, the nerves really set in. What if Haseo wasn't there? What if he'd been taken again? What if --
Stop. Stop that line of thought. He said he needed you...and he'll be here. He'll be here, and if he's not, then you need to pull it together...for his sake. You can't be there if you're falling apart...
He took a deep breath, bracing with one hand against the wall, and waited. A few minutes would tell the story, either way. He could be patient that long.
[for Haseo.]
no subject
The grinding, crunching burn of morphing was something he hadn't felt in days, now-- he kept on falling asleep, being blissfully unaware of any transformation but not tonight, Tonight, unprepared, unbraced, he screamed as fire swept over his skin, his feathers bursting out of him in great chunks, his fingers melting away before he could thrash the bedsheets away, and then he was a hawk, shudderingly huddled in a mess of sheets and panting.
< Ugh, > he said, quietly, and ripped his way out of the bedsheets with talons and beak, too shaky to try morphing back to human. Ugh. He was hungry, too, and he hopped unsteadily to his desk, tilting his head to examine the food with one golden eye. Indian food, it looked like-- and smelled like-- and he plucked a few chunks of meat out of the curry, swallowing them whole, then resting for a moment, letting the psychosomatic ache in his chest fade.
He could focus enough to morph back to human, he thought, but he wasn't sure he wanted to, right now. He hadn't been ready for nightfall, and the unbraced pain had shaken him-- he was pretty sure he could get the door open, if he had to, with his talons and beak.
With some experimentation-- he could, yeah, and he flit out into the hall, hopping and fluttering along, ignoring anyone else. Nothing to see here, just a little red-tail without a mission.
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/886165.html)]