(creative_muses) Lost In Translation
It's a Small World
(OOC: A time stamp piece from Wayward. It's from a story line we haven't gotten to yet. Alec vs Alloces (A demon.)=FAILZ.)
Scent came back first. It always did. His world was built from scent out. So now it was terrifyingly small, being only the smell of oxygen and medical rubber. Right the hell up his nose.
He gasped like that X4 female from the Blowfish once she'd been dragged out and dumped on dry land to suffocate. It hurt and he rolled trying to get at least his hands and knees under him. The world didn't exist past his nose and he hated the small one he was trapped in.
There was not enough air in this place. Squeezed out by fear and pain. He hurt and the animal he was told him to run and hide. Some place small and dark with plenty of air.
Hearing came next but it was useless. It was jumbled. Voices, loud and quiet. Languages he didn't understand. There was no room for anyone else in his tiny world. Nothing they said made sense. Out of this world. He laughed at the absurdity of it. The sound that came out of his mouth was more like that of suffocating. Like he was under water. Or out of it. Like that poor female.
He tried to crawl. For such a small limited existence he had it was heavy. Pressing down on him. And his body wouldn't, couldn't, obey under that weight. Limbs stiff and broken. It hurt. His fingers flexed against it. His hands were whole. They still knew the language he loved. This time. This time. This time he still had the music. In his head. In this tiny world.
He still had that as the weight rolled him under again and he couldn't fight anymore.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
'Verse: Wayward
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 281
(OOC: A time stamp piece from Wayward. It's from a story line we haven't gotten to yet. Alec vs Alloces (A demon.)=FAILZ.)
Scent came back first. It always did. His world was built from scent out. So now it was terrifyingly small, being only the smell of oxygen and medical rubber. Right the hell up his nose.
He gasped like that X4 female from the Blowfish once she'd been dragged out and dumped on dry land to suffocate. It hurt and he rolled trying to get at least his hands and knees under him. The world didn't exist past his nose and he hated the small one he was trapped in.
There was not enough air in this place. Squeezed out by fear and pain. He hurt and the animal he was told him to run and hide. Some place small and dark with plenty of air.
Hearing came next but it was useless. It was jumbled. Voices, loud and quiet. Languages he didn't understand. There was no room for anyone else in his tiny world. Nothing they said made sense. Out of this world. He laughed at the absurdity of it. The sound that came out of his mouth was more like that of suffocating. Like he was under water. Or out of it. Like that poor female.
He tried to crawl. For such a small limited existence he had it was heavy. Pressing down on him. And his body wouldn't, couldn't, obey under that weight. Limbs stiff and broken. It hurt. His fingers flexed against it. His hands were whole. They still knew the language he loved. This time. This time. This time he still had the music. In his head. In this tiny world.
He still had that as the weight rolled him under again and he couldn't fight anymore.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
'Verse: Wayward
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 281