Sarge Potteiger
Emotional Damage
Numb.
Linna,
That's what he felt.
I find myself alone with more than a fair bit of alcohol.
Nothing about this world was static. Everything was swimming, moving. Narrowing his eyes wasn't helping, neither was widening them. The lights hurt. His heart was thudding louder than normal. He stumbled to the bathroom.
Fumbling with the buttons on his urban pattern fatigue pants, he manages to not miss the toilet as he starts taking a leak. Despite the knowledge that there should be noise, he didn't hear anything. There was a warm pressure on his chest, and his head felt nice and fuzzy. A hand was pressed to the wall to keep him from tipping over.
Thus finished, the sink was the next destination. Cold water sluiced through his fingers and over his hands as they rubbed together, and he cupped his hands enough to make a shallow puddle and threw it up onto his face. The heat he felt abated minimally. Lifting his head, he made eye contact with glassy eyes and red cheeks.
Picking an empty bottle off the counter, he smashes it against the mirror and saunters out into the living room. Behind him, the broken image of a broken man lay scattered upon the floor. "Leave me alonshe.", he slurs.
Unsteady steps lead him into the kitchen, across the living area from the bathroom. On a table in the middle of the room sat enough empty bottles of alcohol to have killed a normal human being hours ago. It wasn't a thought that even crossed Sarge's mind.
Anyway, I'm rambling a bit. Apartment 649, Habitation Sphere Aurek.
The fridge. That's where more booze was. He stopped by the sink, a blinking light telling him that... a message had been read? Sensing his presence, the backlight on the pad brightened considerably. The sudden onslaught to his senses sent him reeling... then retching.
There wasn't even time to register that his bile was black before he was teetering, balance gone. He wasn't breathing normally, he felt cold. Like a cut tree plummeting to the forest floor, he falls to the side, head cracking off the counter.
That's where he lay; in the kitchen, a pile of bile near his feet and blood pooling around his head. That's what he felt.
Door's unlocked.
Numb.
-B
Linna,
That's what he felt.
I find myself alone with more than a fair bit of alcohol.
Nothing about this world was static. Everything was swimming, moving. Narrowing his eyes wasn't helping, neither was widening them. The lights hurt. His heart was thudding louder than normal. He stumbled to the bathroom.
I can't say it's a feeling I relish, if I'm honest.
Fumbling with the buttons on his urban pattern fatigue pants, he manages to not miss the toilet as he starts taking a leak. Despite the knowledge that there should be noise, he didn't hear anything. There was a warm pressure on his chest, and his head felt nice and fuzzy. A hand was pressed to the wall to keep him from tipping over.
That being said... I'd appreciate it if you stopped by when you've got some free time. Stars know leaving me alone isn't such a good idea.
Thus finished, the sink was the next destination. Cold water sluiced through his fingers and over his hands as they rubbed together, and he cupped his hands enough to make a shallow puddle and threw it up onto his face. The heat he felt abated minimally. Lifting his head, he made eye contact with glassy eyes and red cheeks.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't tell anyone. This message is so encrypted not even Ayden or Cira will know I sent it.
Picking an empty bottle off the counter, he smashes it against the mirror and saunters out into the living room. Behind him, the broken image of a broken man lay scattered upon the floor. "Leave me alonshe.", he slurs.
I'm not even sure why I'm messaging you of all people, really. Who knows.
Unsteady steps lead him into the kitchen, across the living area from the bathroom. On a table in the middle of the room sat enough empty bottles of alcohol to have killed a normal human being hours ago. It wasn't a thought that even crossed Sarge's mind.
Anyway, I'm rambling a bit. Apartment 649, Habitation Sphere Aurek.
The fridge. That's where more booze was. He stopped by the sink, a blinking light telling him that... a message had been read? Sensing his presence, the backlight on the pad brightened considerably. The sudden onslaught to his senses sent him reeling... then retching.
Hopefully, I'll see you soon, yeah?
There wasn't even time to register that his bile was black before he was teetering, balance gone. He wasn't breathing normally, he felt cold. Like a cut tree plummeting to the forest floor, he falls to the side, head cracking off the counter.
Just let yourself in.
That's where he lay; in the kitchen, a pile of bile near his feet and blood pooling around his head. That's what he felt.
Door's unlocked.
Numb.
-B