[The SFC feed clicks on, showing a small, darkish bedroom and someone wrapped in blankets like a cocoon, completely swaddled and hidden. The feed rolls cheerfully along for a moment or two, until the blankets shift, falling away as the person under them props himself up on one elbow, his back to the camera. Even without seeing his face, it's pretty difficult to not recognize Equius Zahhak just by his size and broken horn alone.
He reaches out with one hand, fumbling for something on a small table on the other side of the bed. The camera catches just a glimpse of a glass full of water before it shatters in his grip, the breaking sound almost unbearably loud in the otherwise silent room.
Equius' shoulders roll forward, hunching in around his chest, and he appears to study his hand for a moment, watching a few trickles of blue blood run down his fingers, before he grunts and pulls the blankets back over his head. The blankets move around him as he curls into a ball and sighs, deeply, before he stops moving.
The feed keeps running for another couple of minutes before it cuts off.]
[OOC: backdated to before
this thread, and the morning after the curse wears off.]