>>> (wordsnotspoken) wrote in reality_dome, @ 2013-11-01 16:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~eran winther |
Mind's Eye
Characters: Eran
When: 9:47 AM, Wednesday October 23
Location: the common room, then his room
Warnings/Rating: None
Summary: Eran experiences something strange.
Status: Narrative
Eran was up strangely early, for him. By 9:30 or so he'd already showered and gotten ready for the day, so he wandered downstairs. His first stop was the kitchen, where he ate a cup of yogurt standing at the counter-- low fat, decent amount of protein-- and then picked up a bottle of water to take with him to the common room. He'd actually wondered if he might run into Jake again, but there was nobody there, so he sat down on the couch to think about the possibility of either watching a video or playing a game. He sucked at them still, despite trying to pick up tips from Jake, but maybe he wasn't meant to be good at everything.
Eran was about to reach for the controller when his bare palm touched the couch cushion next to his. Suddenly, everything was different.
The journey from darkness to light was a gradual ascent, like surfacing from water so deep it was infinite to clear water where one could see fish darting about. There were stabs of pain somewhere on his back, to either side, there was confusion and anxiety, then there was bright light. It was like being sun-blind, no possibility of even squinting against the onslaught of brilliance. Then the angle was different, from above looking down, the height almost dizzying. Fear and elation mixed. And pain, always pain pulsing like a heartbeat as bone, sinew, tissue rearranged itself. How and why mattered, but it was overshadowed by what now was. Higher, higher and higher still... and out of the corner of his eye, he saw feathers.
Eran became aware of himself again, using his free hand to grasp his wrist and pull his other hand up, away from the couch cushion. He scrubbed it against his jeans as if to wipe something away and at the same time became aware that he was sweating, although his skin felt cold and clammy, and his insides churned with a combination of ravenous hunger and nausea. Staggering up from the couch, his foot knocked over the capped water bottle, but he left it where it lay, heading for the stairs at an awkward run. He would still be in sight of the cameras, but somehow his room seemed safer when he felt like this.
By the time he got there, he was panting and sweating even more profusely, and he collapsed onto his bed, face down. Whether or not he would pass out was debatable as the room spun around him, as hollowness seemed to expand his insides and what felt like starvation gnawed at his stomach, but gradually it all settled. Eran turned onto his side, running his fingers through hair that was damp with sweat. Damn, he'd need another shower.
What was that?