Re: Knowing You
Posted: Sun Mar 19, 2023 6:43 pm
Daniel gave a half-hearted wave as Fitz left, not even really looking at him as he did. He couldn't even use his bag as an excuse, he was looking right at Cedar... or, well, he was trying to.
Getting up after all of that felt like a bad idea. Shock of shocks, getting the living daylight pummeled out of you takes a lot out of you, and even less shockingly, he still couldn't quite think straight. He knew what he was doing here, but where was he headed? If he didn't have a path forward, he was kinda fucked. Maybe not like, in the sense that it'd directly lead to his death, unless he had some heretofore unknown-even-to-himself death wish that'd really get going once he lost a bit too much hope.
(Ha, ha.)
A solution presented itself - not to the question of what he'd do when he left this room, but what he'd do just right now. He plopped the bag down kinda close but not too close to Cedar, and lay his head on it. Staring at the ceiling, hand inches away from Cedar's fingers. Take the taste of blood out of his mouth and close his eyes and he could transport himself back in time, as if this was the sort of "date" they used to go on when Cedar couldn't really go anywhere else.
When the wad of bandaging in his mouth stopped needing to soak up blood, he'd talk.
[Daniel Ozanne continued in Further Torments And Slavery]
Getting up after all of that felt like a bad idea. Shock of shocks, getting the living daylight pummeled out of you takes a lot out of you, and even less shockingly, he still couldn't quite think straight. He knew what he was doing here, but where was he headed? If he didn't have a path forward, he was kinda fucked. Maybe not like, in the sense that it'd directly lead to his death, unless he had some heretofore unknown-even-to-himself death wish that'd really get going once he lost a bit too much hope.
(Ha, ha.)
A solution presented itself - not to the question of what he'd do when he left this room, but what he'd do just right now. He plopped the bag down kinda close but not too close to Cedar, and lay his head on it. Staring at the ceiling, hand inches away from Cedar's fingers. Take the taste of blood out of his mouth and close his eyes and he could transport himself back in time, as if this was the sort of "date" they used to go on when Cedar couldn't really go anywhere else.
When the wad of bandaging in his mouth stopped needing to soak up blood, he'd talk.
[Daniel Ozanne continued in Further Torments And Slavery]