ac!d trip
[...and the sleep gas was fading, or perhaps he was fading into it, cloud-white and weightless once again. Or not. There was a ground beneath this body's feet, of sorts, steady beneath the pinched, girlish shoes - and there were walls nearby, not curving and dotted with windows but straight, solid.
Somewhere new.
He looked down at herself. Still the same shape, a 'Minette' if that was what you wished to call it, dressed in black and red and with pale hands streaked with blood. Little hands. Always smaller than he remembered, delicate and feminine and smaller than they were on the inside. Though he had always been called delicate.
It didn't matter. Bodies never mattered, until you didn't have one, and then you craved it and would take anything you could force your way into.
Perhaps that was what had happened. Perhaps the plane had dropped out of the sky and his mind had scrabbled its way to this new place - but the body was still the same. That was good, really. She had found it was a useful body. Soft and unassuming, a suitable hiding place.
The last breaths of poison-mist swum out from under his skirts, expiring. She was still holding the knife, though the broken canvas that had been lying at her feet had vanished.
She knelt on the floor, and began to carve his number.]
((OOC: have a Minette, taken from the end of MGA.))
Somewhere new.
He looked down at herself. Still the same shape, a 'Minette' if that was what you wished to call it, dressed in black and red and with pale hands streaked with blood. Little hands. Always smaller than he remembered, delicate and feminine and smaller than they were on the inside. Though he had always been called delicate.
It didn't matter. Bodies never mattered, until you didn't have one, and then you craved it and would take anything you could force your way into.
Perhaps that was what had happened. Perhaps the plane had dropped out of the sky and his mind had scrabbled its way to this new place - but the body was still the same. That was good, really. She had found it was a useful body. Soft and unassuming, a suitable hiding place.
The last breaths of poison-mist swum out from under his skirts, expiring. She was still holding the knife, though the broken canvas that had been lying at her feet had vanished.
She knelt on the floor, and began to carve his number.]
((OOC: have a Minette, taken from the end of MGA.))