Harvey Stonewall (loveislove) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-20 21:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, lgbtq culture |
Who: Glibt and Mark
What: The Minotaur tortures/kills/eats some of Glibt's people (Asterion narrative to be posted on Friday, I'm told). Glibt feels it.
Where: Mark's brownstone.
When: Late night.
Warnings: Alcohol, drug use, language, mentions of violence.
Having Mark home all day actually made Glibt work less, or, at the very least, work from the brownstone. His work didn't need an office, he only needed a laptop, a cell phone and his long, long list of connections. He was still working hard on the New Hampshire fight and he collapsed into bed beside Mark after a long evening of working and watching the news with his... boyfriend? He wasn't going to think about it too hard. With a murmured good night, he slipped into sleep, or as close as he could get to sleep when he shut off most of his connections, and was dreaming within instants, sliding through the minds of his people without even trying to and feeling their happiness transform into good dreams of the future.
However... in the middle of the night, he felt it. Felt a small number of his people get knocked unconscious, felt their bodies being dragged toward an abandoned building and it had him sitting up in bed quickly, forcing a hand over his mouth and trying to connect to their unconscious minds. He couldn't, not while they were out, but they woke soon enough.
Pain. Huge pain.
Torture. Slow, horrible torture. Glibt suffered through the first few minutes of it in silence but when skin began to be torn away from flesh, Glibt feeling every little bit of the experience, he vaulted off the bed to the bathroom, collapsing in the corner and huddling in on himself as he felt intestines slowly being worked out of a stomach. His hands went foolishly to his own lower stomach momentarily, but he was still intact.
He desperately tried not to throw up, tried to hold back muffled groans of pain but they escaped from between his lips as he trembled. This was worse than Dahmer. The worst part? The perpetator felt all too familiar. And as shallow knife wounds were sliced into their bodies, Glibt just held his head in his hands and tried to breathe through the pain.