[ Things turn. They always do around this place, so it shouldn't be any kind of fucking surprise when the world goes belly up. Like gravity inverting on a ship, life support crapping out. All that shit you can't prepare for but still have to take. Most of his clothes are gone - no fucking loss, they weren't his in the first place - but his knives magically vanished along with. All but one tucked into his ankle holster, which miraculously survived the purge, because now he's wandering around shirtless like an idiot with a lone blade to his name and the darkness settling in more literally than usual.
It's pitch fucking black. The kind of darkness you can reach out and touch, worse than floating in dead space. This isn't cold. This isn't empty. There's a heaviness to the air, bodies pressing close, everyone breathing too loud and too quick. And then -
His skin feels too goddamn tight. A different sort of ache pulsing through his joints. He can feel himself twitching. Sweating. ]
Fuck.
[ Gritted out from between clenched teeth. Too much. Too sharp. And people keep bumping into him, no matter how much he snarls and flinches away. No matter that he lunged forward and took a bite out of the last fucker with his teeth, like an animal. No matter that he can still taste the blood in his throat, hot and cloying like copper pennies. No matter that he flinches again when someone comes in too close, bare skin brushing against a burn scar on his arm, and Ephemera just reaches. Surging forward with a hiss, a stranger's blood running hot down his chin and a knife in his hand. He puts the blade up, readying himself for an enemy he can't see and hating - hating - that the ache suddenly twists into something worse and better and worse when they touch.
Skin to skin. Haha. Of course. ]
I'll kill you.
[ A low promise. He's backed them into a wall, whoever it is. Got the knife up, ready to punch forward. ]
Don't touch me-
[ And he freezes. Because this might be the first time like this, in the dark, but he knows this stance. This man. ]
Shadow ball shenanigans
It's pitch fucking black. The kind of darkness you can reach out and touch, worse than floating in dead space. This isn't cold. This isn't empty. There's a heaviness to the air, bodies pressing close, everyone breathing too loud and too quick. And then -
His skin feels too goddamn tight. A different sort of ache pulsing through his joints. He can feel himself twitching. Sweating. ]
Fuck.
[ Gritted out from between clenched teeth. Too much. Too sharp. And people keep bumping into him, no matter how much he snarls and flinches away. No matter that he lunged forward and took a bite out of the last fucker with his teeth, like an animal. No matter that he can still taste the blood in his throat, hot and cloying like copper pennies. No matter that he flinches again when someone comes in too close, bare skin brushing against a burn scar on his arm, and Ephemera just reaches. Surging forward with a hiss, a stranger's blood running hot down his chin and a knife in his hand. He puts the blade up, readying himself for an enemy he can't see and hating - hating - that the ache suddenly twists into something worse and better and worse when they touch.
Skin to skin. Haha. Of course. ]
I'll kill you.
[ A low promise. He's backed them into a wall, whoever it is. Got the knife up, ready to punch forward. ]
Don't touch me-
[ And he freezes. Because this might be the first time like this, in the dark, but he knows this stance. This man. ]
Felix?