As you take a swig of the potion you detect a hint of smoke taste hidden below the pleasant swirls and aromas of fruity flavors. It’s the last thing you experience before your mind once more drifts off. Lucidity returning in its fullest you blink open your eyes and let out a yawn. It seems you were dreaming about…something? But it’s all fuzzy and you can’t really remember what it was about. Shrugging it off you go about your daily routine. You get up…or at least you try to. No you definitely got up, you can even see your own back! Wait, somethings not right here. Your groggy sleep addled mind slowly comes to a realization as you stare forward and blink several times.
Then a moment later something occurs to you….your staring at your own body…your body got up, but it’s missing a head! Understandably spooked you jump out of bed…or at least…your body does, and you rush out the door, or at least you..try…to. There’s a loud thump as your headless body slams right into a wall, effectively blinded but still very much intact in every other way, including your sense of touch. That was pretty painful. After a few moments of reeling from the pain you carefully guide your body back to the bed and have it pick up your head. At first, you try to put your head back where it belongs…but with nothing to hold it there it threatens to fall again and most likely give you a concussion.
(The blue potion has bestowed upon you the Dullahan curse! This curse will lift once the clock ticks midnight on Halloween!)
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Weird. His lungs - over there - were straining for breath, while his throat - over here - ached from screaming. Never had that happen before.
Alright, okay, alright. He clamped his mouth shut. Deep breaths. He’d gotten it out of his system. Well, he’d gotten most of it out of his system. Probably. Where was he again? Okay, right, alright. It’s okay. Not great. Not really great at all. But it could’ve been worse. If he could wake up headless, then maybe he could’ve woken up a werewolf. Or a changeling. Or…really, a whole lot of terrible things. He wasn’t a danger to anyone. He wasn’t in danger himself. That is, provided he was careful with his noggin. He was okay.
Still not great! Still very much not great! And no clue on when it might. Y’know. Get better again!
Focus. Focus. Yes. First step? Get out of this room. Whatever…this was, he wasn’t going to fix it by sitting around here. Not to mention his belly - still over there! - was telling him a bit of breakfast wouldn’t hurt things. Or, would it? Could he even eat like thiiiiiiiiiiiis nope nope nope nope don’t look at your smoking neck-stump don’t look don’t think about it don’t think about it now. Think about escape. Think about leaving. That’s a much better think. His body could move. His head could, y’know, see. Somehow, he had to get his body a way to safely carry around his head, using only what he could see from his bed.
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Several minutes later, Sandy stepped out of his bedroom.
Several bruises later, Sandy stepped outside.
His head rested against his chest, tucked in a blanket-sling that he’d looped around his neck. It wasn’t perfect. His neck was already formulating a complaint at the weight. He didn’t really have a plan for if his head tipped sideways. Not to mention whenever he opened his mouth, he got a big bite of cotton for his trouble. But he could see, and he could walk. It’d have to do.
The question was, where to go? He needed help, but he couldn’t just walk down the streets of Ponyville like this. Not without causing a panic. He needed someone to go into town and fetch an expert in curses and other spooky magics. He needed someone who could keep an eye on him, keep him from getting too banged up in the meanwhile. If they could help him make a better head-carrier (ohhhhhhhhh gosh oh goodness oh gosh never say those words again) that’d be just great.
And he knew just the friends for the job.
Looking about to make sure nopony could see him, Sandy carefully made his way off the beach and down the road, heading towards the outskirts of town. He could only hope they were having a better morning than he was…
@askneonflight @fireboundmage
(Poor Sandy’s lost his head! If you want to ask him about this spooky predicament he’s found himself in, be my guest. I’ll get to as many asks as I am able.)
