⚙ in person [backdate to earlier in the week]
[ Welp, this was certainly turning out to be a fantastic New Year. Dave wasn't particularly sure if John was ever going to talk to him again, at the even more fantastic rate they were going so far, he had started feeling pretty miserable partway through their stay in Kyoto-- which had developed quite rapidly, much to his chagrin-- and now all of his powers from Sburb were gone. Hell, any abnormal thing about him was completely gone, right down to the red of his eyes.
Which was kind of okay, actually. Everything else, not so much. As temperamental as the Manor's timeline was, he missed being able to travel through it. He also found himself missing the constant tick, tock that had followed him around ever since he'd entered the game. It was just too damn quiet now without it.
Not that he could really focus on it with how muggy he felt. His sinuses were killing him and he had dizzy spells any time he tried to move too fast. Admittedly, he realized he was making it worse by carrying on like he wasn't sick, but it was the only way he knew how to deal with it. Even as he bumped into things and lacked his usual grace (which lead to him leaving his aviators in his room, for fear of breaking them in a place where he couldn't replace them or captchalog them in a sylladex), he traversed the halls.
At that moment, he was making his way back from the kitchen, a newly pilfered jug of apple juice on hand and his normalfied, ruddy brown eyes half-shut as he sniffled a bit. This sucked. ]
Which was kind of okay, actually. Everything else, not so much. As temperamental as the Manor's timeline was, he missed being able to travel through it. He also found himself missing the constant tick, tock that had followed him around ever since he'd entered the game. It was just too damn quiet now without it.
Not that he could really focus on it with how muggy he felt. His sinuses were killing him and he had dizzy spells any time he tried to move too fast. Admittedly, he realized he was making it worse by carrying on like he wasn't sick, but it was the only way he knew how to deal with it. Even as he bumped into things and lacked his usual grace (which lead to him leaving his aviators in his room, for fear of breaking them in a place where he couldn't replace them or captchalog them in a sylladex), he traversed the halls.
At that moment, he was making his way back from the kitchen, a newly pilfered jug of apple juice on hand and his normalfied, ruddy brown eyes half-shut as he sniffled a bit. This sucked. ]