Comments | estdeus_innobis: To array a man's will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.

westin_sagert in estdeus_innobis

To array a man's will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.

Oct 05, 2010 16:19

[Late afternoon of Thursday, February 18 (day 263)]
[Basement of the Sagert residence]With the miserable weather, I do not expect that anyone would have been interested in stopping by anyway, and so I was quite happy to leave the shop closed. Although I admit the weather is a slim excuse. I do believe this is the second (possibly the third?) day ( Read more... )

!caution, westin, !adult content: violence, damien

Comments 11

damien_dw October 5 2010, 23:12:41 UTC

I sink gratefully into the softness of my bed, just a quick nap before eat something and go to the Tavern. I am finding that it is easier to manage both work and play if I have these naps in between.

I feel light as a feather but the bed is very firm under me, almost hard. Someone turns on a light above me and it is very bright, almost blinding even through my closed eyelids. I throw my arm up to help block the light, finding out too late that I can't because there is a binding on my wrist. On both of them.

I force my eyes open and squint through the brilliance just barely catching a glimpse of a tall shadow reaching its hands into the light. I can't look at what those hands are holding, the metal is too reflective of the light.

westin_sagert October 6 2010, 02:48:39 UTC

The light is dazzling, the steel mirror darting needles of brightness into my eyes. One hand across my face, I fumble the reflector aside, look down, and--

"Good god, ma-- er-- well. Yes," and I need to address that in just a moment, but "What have you done with my work?" I push--well, him, it, I shall determine it later--aside, buckles springing loose and straps snapping like tendons. And no-one is on the table, no-one at all, certainly not... well, whatever I was working on.

It is very perplexing. Linnea's jawbone is embedded in the wall, neatly flensed, and I reach up to touch it... for reassurance or familiarity, I suppose. The gaslamps in the alley walls provide enough light to see the stranger. They do seem to be perhaps a bit better dressed than one might expect for the late hour and the street, but then so am I.

"I'm sorry," I say, craning to look underneath the table only to find that what I was working on is not there either, "what are you doing here? What are you?"

damien_dw October 6 2010, 03:30:46 UTC

The light is moved and i can see a man in a suit he speaks in a cultured masculine voice, Good god, ma-- er-- well. Yes,What have you done with my work? I am pushed sideways, the restraining straps popping open of their own accord and I hastily stand up.

Now that I can see I find we are in an alley light by a pair of gaslamps and the faint green glow from what looks like a jawbone of some kind that seems to be embedded in the wall between them. The man reaches up to touch the bone and then bends over to look under the steel table I was lying on. He asks,what are you doing here? What are you?I blink and run a hand through my hair. What does he mean what am I doing here? What am I? Oh. I did it again. Dreamwalked without being aware of it. I look more closely around at the alley and at the gentleman in front of me. Of course it's a dream I should have known that much sooner ( ... )

westin_sagert October 6 2010, 04:46:29 UTC

It says something like "I'm not actually sure. I think I was just passing through," and that seems useful, passing through means less ties and for a minute the dark hair flickers to something short and blonde and it's clearly male, but then that passes.

"Yes, yes, but what are you?" I pat Linnea's jawbone once more and it comes neatly out of the wall, so I put it on the shoulder of my coat. It clings there, neatly balanced. I am reminded of a rat, in a sort of clean and comforting way, and I stalk forward, curious.

Thread 11