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Simon Bellamy (handsome_shark) wrote in makebelievelog, @ 2011-10-26 15:48:00

Who: Simon, open to all unfortunate enough to encounter him
What: It must have been a GREAT night since he's cold, cut, bleeding, aching like fuck, and naked
When: Early morning, 26th October
Where: En route back to the castle
Rating/Warnings: Nekkid Simon - lucky he can turn invisible really, isn't it?
Status: Open, incomplete


It had been a slow and highly unpleasant awakening for Simon this morning. His first impression wasn't so bad since he'd been sleeping on his stomach a bed of moss and leaves so, while he felt a little cold, at least he was comfortable.

Still dozing, he started to roll onto his back... and THAT was when the whole "highly unpleasant" aspect hit him. Pain like fire shot through his body, enveloping him in such a way that it even robbed him of the ability to cry out. Instead his breath was drawn in further than ever before and held as long as possible since breathing out would have just added to the pain.

He opened his eyes and looked around him as much as possible, which wasn't a great deal given the way his neck refused to cooperate any more than the rest of him would. However, he gradually took in the following in more or less simultaneous order:

He was in the woods.
It was heading for daylight, which was odd since he had no idea where the night had gone.
His mouth was full of leaves and mud.
He was cold.
He was damp.
He was naked.

...

He was naked... Jesus, what had happened last night?

Slowly, since his jaws were no less stiff than the rest of his joints, he moved the contents of the forest floor that were taking refuge in his mouth back to their regular place on the ground and then, even more slowly since his shoulders screamed protest all the way, he lifted a hand to his mouth to wipe what was left.

That task accomplished, he realised that he'd really need to get himself back to his room - hah! Selene had recently commented on how she rarely saw him. Wait until she got a look at him now.

Again, he was reminded, he was naked.

Shit.

He screwed his eyes shut for a moment. Then, decision made, he gritted his teeth - instantly regretting the action, but having to persevere nonetheless - and forced his joints and muscles to obey the order from his brain and get him to a sitting position. It didn't take him too long, which surprised him a little, but once there he surveyed his situation once more. There was no sign of clothes or phone although somehow he wasn't surprised. When life shat on Simon it made sure he was well and truly covered in slurry. He sighed and examined himself in more detail.

His head hurt and, lifting a hand carefully to his right temple he winced as he touched a spot that was markedly more sore than the rest of it. A sudden flash of memory brought images of a heavy branch with a sharp end into the way of him as he ran, but then it was gone and he dropped his hand again and licked his lips, getting the unmistakable taste of blood as he did so. Oddly for Simon, this didn't worry him so much - although the sight of his hands gave him a definite sense of unease. His hands were filthy, but it wasn't that. Underneath his nails however, they were caked in trapped blood. Simon's stomach rumbled a little, but not in hunger. Somehow he knew it wasn't his blood and an image of a badger skittered through his thought processes.

He had to get back to his room. It was getting later and later - the children would be around soon, and he certainly didn't want any of them seeing him in this predicament since he had NO idea how he was going to explain it. He couldn't even explain it to himself. His palms itched and he absently scratched them, movement getting a little easier as he exercised the joints more and more.

The branch... suddenly he realised that it would still be around here somewhere. That might help.

... he must have taken a hell of a knock, he decided. It wasn't as though he had to be visible to return to the castle.

He concentrated and, with a little effort, vanished from view of any potential audience. Next task, and probably the hardest one next to getting back to the castle, was actually getting to his feet. Still, with a little perseverance and determination, that goal was achieved too. Relieved, he stood panting a little until the waves of pain subsided and turned to find the branch. He may not need it to preserve what little remained of his dignity anymore, but it wouldn't hurt to have a walking stick, just for now.

He found the branch lying close by - the scent of his blood on it was not to be ignored. Just how he KNEW it was his blood, and that he was identifying it by the smell, however, was firmly banished from his mind as he gingerly picked it up and headed back in the direction of the castle, or at least back out of the trees so he could see just where the castle was situated.

He passed a few early risers on the slow journey back, but his invisibility extended to anything he was carrying so he didn't faze anyone by having them look at a respectable-sized beech branch making its way along the path. All passed without event until he got back to the castle doors and, reaching up to open them, he hoped his luck would continue up to his room. However, fate delivered another load of its generous supply of shit his way as he felt his grip on his invisibility slipping and he fell into the spasm that always heralded his return to public view. All he had time to do was shift the branch he'd been leaning on so that the leaves covered the worst of his embarrassment.