O look, I do own clothes now! Who: Nate Grey & Rascal What: Day 6 of Having a Body Again, or, Nate doesn't have enough sense to come in from the cold Also, telekinesis powers activate! When: Thursday evening Where: Haven Gardens Warnings: TBD
Evening had fallen, and the sky was well on its way to being dark, but Nate Grey couldn't get over the wonder that was the dying of the light, and the way all the bright colors of Fall would grow muted as dusk covered everything. With the sun mostly gone, the air was chilly, but it wasn't very windy, so it was bearable. Of course, that would presume that Nate would be wearing appropriate attire instead of being barefoot...again. He really disliked shoes in general. They hurt his feet. All the time. He had begun to remember some things about his past, and recalled having a predilection for boots. He had tried on a pair and they literally made him cry within twelve minutes of wearing them, they bothered him so much.
Having a brand new body had it's disadvantages. He didn't have any calluses, anywhere. His skin was pristine, like a baby's. Everything itched, or scratched, or made him red and splotchy, or made him break into hives. Wool, for instance, was luxurious and warm and fuzzy. Nate loved touching wool. However, he could not wear it, or he'd have to take it off whimpering and frantic, only to leave his skin red as a lobster and hypersensitive. Even while wearing an undershirt. It had been six days of discoveries, and they seemed to have no end. The bald man in the wheelchair had called him to his office a couple of times, but he said not to worry, and to take all the time he needed to adjust.
Nate saw the first star come up and smiled, even though his teeth were chattering. He was wearing brand new jeans and a pretty, medium grey knitted sweater that zipped up the front. It was roomy enough that it looked comfortable around the shoulders, but would have probably wrapped around his teeny underfed waist several times over. He had liked it so much he'd worried his bottom lip and asked his handler if he could get two, so he now had a pair of the same. He wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, because he'd forgotten to pick one out, and he was going commando, because Nate had decided underwear was evil and must be destroyed. Or something.
He didn't understand why he was feeling weak, and didn't see his own lips to notice they were beginning to look a little blue. Not that anyone could tell at this point, with the light fading and making everything look bluish. But his lips matched his toenails, and he was very certain he had not painted those that soft bluish gray color. He alternated between staring up to see if more stars came out and looking down at his oddly colored toenails. He wiggled his toes some and tittered some more from the cold.
As weak as his body generally was, falling asleep on the lawn in cold November night could probably kill him, but he was blissfully unaware of this fact. And even had he known, he was too busy thinking and remembering and learning and feeling and watching the stars! He didn't have time to worry about silly little things like death from exposure!