Goo Goo G’joob [Complete.]
Characters: Rion Steiner, Zack Fair, any Masonic Lodge dwellers. Contact if you want to hop in.
Content: Creation of the Delmetor was a success, and it came with some... interesting side effects. While letting them wear off, Rion’s housed himself for a couple weeks, and is stumbled upon.
Location: The Grand Masonic Lodge.
Time of day: Evening.
Warnings: Drug use. Rion’s high and strange behavior.
Mission accomplished. Success yet to be determined...
With blood still streaming from his ears, nose, corners of his lips, and the empty sockets where eyes should be, the boy staggered drunkenly into the lodge. His feet barely cared to carry him as he dragged his heels, step by step, along the soft carpet he knew all so well. Rion was sore. His head throbbed, his body ached, like it had just been set on fire, and in every sense of the word be very well may have been.
The Delmetor had been created. Most of the lab remained in shambles after the incident, but they were at least able to salvage what remained of the Delmetor. If not for that, the boy would be a walking corpse, killing anything and everything all the while killing himself slowly. So slowly. Painfully. His body betraying and igniting his insides. All until that very moment when he shoved that one pill down his throat.
The effects weren’t immediate, and at first Rion didn’t expect it to work at all. But Delmetor was a relaxant. It was a relaxant, a painkiller, and in a way it was a hallucinatory drug. Rion had always felt dizzy after taking them, because it had to counteract with the molecules in his body inciting the short circuit...
He was still a wreck. Homely-looking, pale-faced, blood on his face that was still wet...
Promising to get himself cleaned up after his little mess, Rion returned to the Masonic Lodge. The door slammed open the brute force, as the child entered while holding his head in his hands. His feet stumbled left to right, fingers just barely clutching a hold of the radio in his hand. Stability at this point seemed far from his reach...
Short circuiting. No pain compared to that. It was as bad as death, and Rion remembered that more than anything else. The stabbing angry hot knives piercing through his skin and nerves, muscle and tendon and sinew... Undoubtedly it was the worst headache ever. Bleeding, bleeding, can’t stop the bleeding.
Legs finally gave out. The boy swayed only slightly after trying to swing the front door shut only to collapse. Face hitting the floor with a not-at-all flattering thud.
Ow...
For awhile, the boy just laid there, unmoving and, maybe, not breathing. Sometimes he forgot to breathe. Eyelids closed over the black holes, and right there in the middle of the front room of the lodge, Rion decided he’d clean up later. He slept.
He didn’t dream, or so much that he remembered... except for an elating sensation that he was flying. Drifting in the mist, in the air. It was a happy place. Head spinning in a wonderful and blissful way. He couldn’t see but he could have sworn there were tattoos on the back of his eyelids staring at him... staring. Staring. Staring. Someone is singing a song-
There is someone... walking behind you...
turn around look at m
When Rion woke up, the pain was gone, and he was filled with a wonderful feeling. He almost thought that he was still asleep, but no. He remembered falling on the carpet, face pressed to the comfortably soft surface. Rion hadn’t noticed it before, but the carpet...
...the carpet...
it was unusually soft.
Rion was also tired. Just barely conscious enough to realize that he was by then unlacing his boots... and then slowly peeling them off. He heard them thud, rolling across the floor. The boy stood back up again, only to nearly tumble when he felt the world spin and whirl around him, making a nauseating whooshing sound.
Barefooted and standing, Rion barely managed to compose his sense of balance as he wandered out of the room. His hands reached out in front of him, probing the walls for familiar twists, familiar corners, leading him to the familiar room with a very familiar bed that had been put there... He couldn’t make it up the stairs. He tripped. Pitched forward. Then started dragging himself up.
Up. Up the stairs. His mind idly amused by the whirling feeling dancing about his head. He almost giggled. He snorted. Rion snorted. Dancing kittens and worms they were tickling his hair and he had felt himself almost laugh about it. Strange didn’t register quite so much as he crawled on his hands and knees to the second floor. Up to the third. Crawling on. And on. And on. The world was a great place. A wonderfully high place. Truly it has improved in its own little way. Oh yes.
To the bedroom! Where on the floor he flopped. He reached for the bed but couldn’t reach. Oh well. As Rion rested his face against the carpet, a twitch curved across his lip and he realized the nice, fuzzy feeling pressed against his cheek. It tickled. Heh. Then the very air around him was a nice little fluffy aura pushing in against him. Oxygen itself had become a distinct, tingling vibration...
Suddenly, Rion had become the strange, easily amused sort, taking pleasure in the simple things. Like pleasant textures and sounds. It was all he had, really. A serene feeling filling his chest as he rolled. Sideways. Left to right, right to left... So endearingly entertained by such a small and simple thing, and yet so fascinating. So fascinating. That a pleasant sense of having found something that made him not truly happy, but entertained all the while.
He moved his hands across the surface, stroking across the interesting texture. He flopped from his belly onto his side, then his back, arms flailed lazily as he did so. He faced the ceiling, the room dark as ever, but the feeling... It was beneath him. Above him. Around him. A hazed look swept over his face as he felt cleaner, fuller, so totally and utterly pain-free in his entire body for the first time...
For the first time ever.
e-ver
As Rion had been stretching his arms and bare feet out, he gripped the edge of the carpet. Finding that it was just a floor rug the entire time, peeling it back, he gripped the edges. He tumbled over to one side, grabbed the edge, and started rolling across, wrapping the floor rug over him. A quiet sound that could almost be mistaken for something like a quiet little chuckle let out as the boy rolled across the floor. His mouth stretched and he didn’t know how or why, or escape the unexpected, elated feeling that made him feel as if he was soaring.
Wrapped up in the carpet, Rion huddled in the fuzzy little wrap and took in the warm, floor rug that he hugged himself within, nice and secure. Almost as if he was safe in here. Like there would be no other place in the world that could ever quite compare to this.
Content: Creation of the Delmetor was a success, and it came with some... interesting side effects. While letting them wear off, Rion’s housed himself for a couple weeks, and is stumbled upon.
Location: The Grand Masonic Lodge.
Time of day: Evening.
Warnings: Drug use. Rion’s high and strange behavior.
Mission accomplished. Success yet to be determined...
With blood still streaming from his ears, nose, corners of his lips, and the empty sockets where eyes should be, the boy staggered drunkenly into the lodge. His feet barely cared to carry him as he dragged his heels, step by step, along the soft carpet he knew all so well. Rion was sore. His head throbbed, his body ached, like it had just been set on fire, and in every sense of the word be very well may have been.
The Delmetor had been created. Most of the lab remained in shambles after the incident, but they were at least able to salvage what remained of the Delmetor. If not for that, the boy would be a walking corpse, killing anything and everything all the while killing himself slowly. So slowly. Painfully. His body betraying and igniting his insides. All until that very moment when he shoved that one pill down his throat.
The effects weren’t immediate, and at first Rion didn’t expect it to work at all. But Delmetor was a relaxant. It was a relaxant, a painkiller, and in a way it was a hallucinatory drug. Rion had always felt dizzy after taking them, because it had to counteract with the molecules in his body inciting the short circuit...
He was still a wreck. Homely-looking, pale-faced, blood on his face that was still wet...
Promising to get himself cleaned up after his little mess, Rion returned to the Masonic Lodge. The door slammed open the brute force, as the child entered while holding his head in his hands. His feet stumbled left to right, fingers just barely clutching a hold of the radio in his hand. Stability at this point seemed far from his reach...
Short circuiting. No pain compared to that. It was as bad as death, and Rion remembered that more than anything else. The stabbing angry hot knives piercing through his skin and nerves, muscle and tendon and sinew... Undoubtedly it was the worst headache ever. Bleeding, bleeding, can’t stop the bleeding.
Legs finally gave out. The boy swayed only slightly after trying to swing the front door shut only to collapse. Face hitting the floor with a not-at-all flattering thud.
Ow...
For awhile, the boy just laid there, unmoving and, maybe, not breathing. Sometimes he forgot to breathe. Eyelids closed over the black holes, and right there in the middle of the front room of the lodge, Rion decided he’d clean up later. He slept.
He didn’t dream, or so much that he remembered... except for an elating sensation that he was flying. Drifting in the mist, in the air. It was a happy place. Head spinning in a wonderful and blissful way. He couldn’t see but he could have sworn there were tattoos on the back of his eyelids staring at him... staring. Staring. Staring. Someone is singing a song-
There is someone... walking behind you...
turn around look at m
When Rion woke up, the pain was gone, and he was filled with a wonderful feeling. He almost thought that he was still asleep, but no. He remembered falling on the carpet, face pressed to the comfortably soft surface. Rion hadn’t noticed it before, but the carpet...
...the carpet...
it was unusually soft.
Rion was also tired. Just barely conscious enough to realize that he was by then unlacing his boots... and then slowly peeling them off. He heard them thud, rolling across the floor. The boy stood back up again, only to nearly tumble when he felt the world spin and whirl around him, making a nauseating whooshing sound.
Barefooted and standing, Rion barely managed to compose his sense of balance as he wandered out of the room. His hands reached out in front of him, probing the walls for familiar twists, familiar corners, leading him to the familiar room with a very familiar bed that had been put there... He couldn’t make it up the stairs. He tripped. Pitched forward. Then started dragging himself up.
Up. Up the stairs. His mind idly amused by the whirling feeling dancing about his head. He almost giggled. He snorted. Rion snorted. Dancing kittens and worms they were tickling his hair and he had felt himself almost laugh about it. Strange didn’t register quite so much as he crawled on his hands and knees to the second floor. Up to the third. Crawling on. And on. And on. The world was a great place. A wonderfully high place. Truly it has improved in its own little way. Oh yes.
To the bedroom! Where on the floor he flopped. He reached for the bed but couldn’t reach. Oh well. As Rion rested his face against the carpet, a twitch curved across his lip and he realized the nice, fuzzy feeling pressed against his cheek. It tickled. Heh. Then the very air around him was a nice little fluffy aura pushing in against him. Oxygen itself had become a distinct, tingling vibration...
Suddenly, Rion had become the strange, easily amused sort, taking pleasure in the simple things. Like pleasant textures and sounds. It was all he had, really. A serene feeling filling his chest as he rolled. Sideways. Left to right, right to left... So endearingly entertained by such a small and simple thing, and yet so fascinating. So fascinating. That a pleasant sense of having found something that made him not truly happy, but entertained all the while.
He moved his hands across the surface, stroking across the interesting texture. He flopped from his belly onto his side, then his back, arms flailed lazily as he did so. He faced the ceiling, the room dark as ever, but the feeling... It was beneath him. Above him. Around him. A hazed look swept over his face as he felt cleaner, fuller, so totally and utterly pain-free in his entire body for the first time...
For the first time ever.
e-ver
As Rion had been stretching his arms and bare feet out, he gripped the edge of the carpet. Finding that it was just a floor rug the entire time, peeling it back, he gripped the edges. He tumbled over to one side, grabbed the edge, and started rolling across, wrapping the floor rug over him. A quiet sound that could almost be mistaken for something like a quiet little chuckle let out as the boy rolled across the floor. His mouth stretched and he didn’t know how or why, or escape the unexpected, elated feeling that made him feel as if he was soaring.
Wrapped up in the carpet, Rion huddled in the fuzzy little wrap and took in the warm, floor rug that he hugged himself within, nice and secure. Almost as if he was safe in here. Like there would be no other place in the world that could ever quite compare to this.