Re: In-person: Misha B/Damian W
[Misha, he hadn't moved.
He was still slumped 'gainst that wall, trying to think past the medicines in his system and the thoughts in his head. He felt real small and young, like when he'd hide in his room at home, and that wasn't a thing to do with Damian. It wasn't his doing, and Misha knew that. He knew, just like he understood some that he'd been using the other boy's trouble as a scapegoat for why he didn't want to talk his own woes out. He might not remember that good in the morning, since it was a realization born of devoured pupils and the calm brung on by the medicines, but, in that drug daze, he understood some. It was all them things the doctors had tried to make him talk over when they pulled him down from that rope. It was all the things he was worried 'bout telling Damian, on account of how Damian would look at him after. It was Oliver's return stirring it all up, and it was those 10 months he'd spent with the boy and feeling like he was 10 years old all over again. It was all that, but understanding didn't make it a whole lot better.
And, Damian, Damian was gone, and Misha didn't see a whole lot of point in moving. So, he was there, sat against that wall and the shadow of wings visible and a real ugly darkness at the tip of the wings impossibly visible in the shadow itself.
He'd at least managed to tug one hand from his mouth, and he was just sucking on the usual two fingers 'stead of looking like someone real mad and trying to fist their own face.
At first, he reckoned it was hallucinating. He'd done that a whole lot throughout his life, or so he reckoned, and it'd been real prevalent at certain junctures. So, Damian, he reckoned Damian was made up again, something crafted from nothing and like he'd thought when he'd first met the boy. He heard the door open, and he almost laughed some at the fact that he'd conjured Damian back up. He reckoned it was like Nilus and his dead soldier some.
Damian had taken off the amulet; Misha knew he wasn't coming back any.
The hallucination came and sat itself on the bed, and Misha eventually looked up with them eyes unnaturally dark. The shadow of the darkened wings shivered, and Misha cocked his head to the side and blinked slow, and he talked even slower 'round them fingers.] I reckon it's better to see some version of you than no version. We talked 'bout that once. I ain't sure if you know that, but I reckon you do since I conjured you out of nothing.