towerofanimus | Amanda is slow. [OPEN]

Characters: Skele!Barbs and YOU.
Setting: Residential areas of the tower. o/
When: Backdated to the event.
Format: Starting with prose, but I'll match!
Summary: Hector got kidnapped, brainwashed, and remade into a damned thing. Watch his mental torture! Fun times by all.
Warnings: Uh, well, here's hoping someone kills him. There's that. Backdated, because lol life and then stuff. o/ Also, he'll be malfunctioning.

This wasn't happening.

It didn't matter that he couldn't make his own arm move, no matter how he tried. It didn't matter that no words came if he tried to force himself to speak. It didn't matter a whit that his body wouldn't obey a single command he sent it, going about its own routine as though its very owner wasn't trapped inside, trying desperately to regain control.

It wasn't even the loss of that control, really, as much as it made him rage at having that control stripped away.

A Jason month, they'd said. Experiments. Well, he supposed he knew exactly what they meant by that now, didn't he?

He could see and hear, however, just fine, trapped as he was in the shambling mess that his body now was. It was worse - far worse - than he'd ever been under the curse. His own nose was being eaten away, he'd noticed, when he caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface, and on seeing that his heart had dropped to his stomach, panic rising in the back of his throat.

Metaphorically, anyway, he supposed.

The first few days he was able to keep inwardly calm, knowing this couldn't last. What good of a toy would he be, after all, if he rotted away to nothing? Because while this was a very, very good imitation of that Aztec curse, it wasn't quite the same. Or so he thought.

At first he could still tell what the air felt like, what the light still felt like, obliquely. And then came the knowledge he couldn't sleep. And couldn't eat.

And then feeling had left altogether, and he'd been left to rage impotently to himself, nearly clawing at the mental walls blocking him from his own body. None of it did any good, of course. Much like that moment, as his body shambled along in its horrific state, all sense of pain - of any feeling whatsoever - gone. It was a living nightmare, and one he was starting to lose sight of the end of.

But his body stopped, as though pausing at that thought a moment in the dormatories, like it and he had somehow reached an accord on that. But as soon as he came to that realization it started moving again without his consent, and he mentally slumped.

He was trapped in this cursed body without even the gracious ability to still be himself, unlike the last time, a bystander in his own skin. He was only glad that there was no one around to see it. He knew from past experience it tended to go over much like a lead balloon.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Going around the tower, Hakumen intended to stop the drones here. Unfortunately, finding them was a task far harder than he thought. Monsters kept derailing him, and it infuriated the warrior. Still, wasn't took long before he saw what appeared to be a zombie.

He raised his sword. Poor soul. He was already beyond help.

"Ending your life now would be a mercy."

A huge, hulking figure is stalking the halls of the residential areas as well. His huge, brutal gauntlets already soaked in the blood of destroyed drones. He seems inclined to just rip them entirely apart, and when he sees this afflicted, shambling thing, there is a feral snarl, muffled behind a ceramite helm.

[These days, sleep isn't sleep so much as momentarily closing his eyes. Kariya has been tired for a long time, has been something of a compulsive insomniac for even longer when push comes to shove, but there's no safety to be found. No rest for the wary.

As such, the dorms are hardly a worse place to be than anywhere else, so that's where he chooses to rest his eyes. The peace, of course, doesn't last. It seems like he's scarcely lain down, pistol secure against his chest, when the prickling feeling of being watched chills him right through.

He's up and has his gun trained on the shadow at the foot of the bed before he's even registered what it is. It's only the fact that it might be one of his roommates that stays his finger from the trigger for a moment.]

Amanda is slow. [OPEN]

Don't worry, Barbossa. The end has come.

The end is coming twice!

The End: The Trilogy. OK to assume sleepwatching? :>