The Summoner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uprisings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-01-23 03:58 am
uprisings) wrote in towerofanimus2012-01-23 03:58 am
Entry tags:
the storm finally found me
Characters: The Summoner and YOU
Setting: Between the thirteenth floor and the infirmary
Format: I will follow!
Summary: The Summoner really needs a hug except for the part where his ribs are broken
Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood?? Rampant self-loathing??? Various existential and emotional crises?????
[He stays where he is for a long time after the Highblood leaves, staring rather blankly into the air. He has not felt this low since he was a child. Since before he met Pyralsprite, and that thought is… absolutely hysterical to him. He has fought his whole life and it took a week and two trolls to bring him back here, where he questions every single one of his thoughts, his movements, everything. He does so much wrong, how could he have forgotten that]
[So he laughs because what the hell else is there to do. He wants nothing more then to sleep the rest of forever away, but he can’t as his body is quick to remind him. He’s coughing violently into his hand before long, unsurprised when after the fit has ended there are speckles of blood on his palm. Fuck. He wanted to skip the trip to the infirmary, but if his lungs are punctured…]
[The climb to his feet is truly agonizing, and he knows walking will be worse. There are little things in him muttering that he deserves it and he just can’t bring himself to argue with it. Yes. Of course he deserves it. Whatever. How many flights is it to the infirmary? He should’ve paid better attention in the past]
[Ah well… The first push off is the worst, and then he’s moving out of the cathedral and down the halls, one arm wrapped around himself while the other uses the wall for support. He’s tired. Let’s get this over with…]
Setting: Between the thirteenth floor and the infirmary
Format: I will follow!
Summary: The Summoner really needs a hug except for the part where his ribs are broken
Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood?? Rampant self-loathing??? Various existential and emotional crises?????
[He stays where he is for a long time after the Highblood leaves, staring rather blankly into the air. He has not felt this low since he was a child. Since before he met Pyralsprite, and that thought is… absolutely hysterical to him. He has fought his whole life and it took a week and two trolls to bring him back here, where he questions every single one of his thoughts, his movements, everything. He does so much wrong, how could he have forgotten that]
[So he laughs because what the hell else is there to do. He wants nothing more then to sleep the rest of forever away, but he can’t as his body is quick to remind him. He’s coughing violently into his hand before long, unsurprised when after the fit has ended there are speckles of blood on his palm. Fuck. He wanted to skip the trip to the infirmary, but if his lungs are punctured…]
[The climb to his feet is truly agonizing, and he knows walking will be worse. There are little things in him muttering that he deserves it and he just can’t bring himself to argue with it. Yes. Of course he deserves it. Whatever. How many flights is it to the infirmary? He should’ve paid better attention in the past]
[Ah well… The first push off is the worst, and then he’s moving out of the cathedral and down the halls, one arm wrapped around himself while the other uses the wall for support. He’s tired. Let’s get this over with…]