Molded

Indie Ask/RP Ethan Winters sideblog to mcnomaniametus

[diedindulvey]

Ethan Winters

E-Series Variant

Dedicated Father

Complete fucking bisexual disaster

This is an rp/ask blog for Ethan Winters from the Resident Evil franchise. Side blog to mcnomaniametus. I constantly forget to tag things, but any ask meme is welcome to be sent no matter how long ago it was posted. We do not need to be mutuals.

Rules

Headcanons: 1, 2 more tbd eventually when I'm not lazy

Verses List:

Dead by Daylight

Pre RE:7

Deep Denial (7.5)

Shiner

Connections

Megamycete Memories

[strawberry-seal77]

time loop with two people in it but one person refuses to acknowledge the loop and pretends to be looping with everyone else. meanwhile the other person is freaking out

[emilesmuseassembly]

"If you're trying to scare me off, it's not working." - @diedindulvey for Dylan

for @diedindulvey

Dylan can hear the mechanical hiss of two sets of mechanical doors opening up behind him, but he does not look up from the sketchy spiraling monstrosity he has been finger-painting on the wall. His fingertips are sore from the force he applies behind the strokes and his fingers are growing caked with the blood he has been using to paint with.

Not his own this time, but that of the poor guy that disrupted his first attempt at painting what 'they' had shown him in his dreams this morning. Another disruption is soon to come, Dylan knows, but that just means more paint to finish his —

He looks over his shoulder and groans when he sees Ethan.

Dylan momentarily sways on his feet as he gets up, slamming his palm against the wall just above the head of the beast and leaving a nasty smeared hand print as he turns around to face his friend.

"You can tell them that I'm not coming with you," is all he says to acknowledge him, his expression unreadable until Ethan speaks and it twists into something a little bit hurt.

"I didn't —" he starts, suddenly very aware of the blood coating his hands and smeared along his tunic, "I am not scaring you."

[diedindulvey]

There should be more of an emotional response; that's probably what Ethan's therapist will say when he's inevitably forced to talk to them about this. When that time comes, he's going to nod along, or ask what emotional responses there should be when he or Dylan are the victims. It all depends on his mood at the time. But for now? Am he can manage to feel is concern that his fellow prime candidate might get in serious trouble.

Ethan doesn't recognize the dead man. Only a few faces really stand out to him among the sea of personnel: anyone nice enough for Ethan to notice and maybe fawn over, or people who've been cruel enough for him to remember out of spite. A select few manage to check both boxes. Beyond curiosity, he doesn't feel much of anything any the murder. What did he do to upset Dylan?

"No, you're not." He steps further inside, trying to get a better view of what's been written on the wall. He doesn't get it. "That's why I said it's not working."

It's only half a truth. Ethan isn't afraid of Dylan. He doesn't have blood to contribute to the wall, and if he gets ripped apart he'll put himself back together again. What he's afraid of is losing Dylan; of his best friend (whether Dylan likes the title or not) being locked away somewhere Ethan can't get to.

"Do you need a bandaid?" Not that Ethan has one, but he'll figure something out if he needs to. "Since we're not going to class today."

'Class.' Sometimes it feels more like the kind of training course those dogs that do obstacle courses do; good directors do this, bad directors do that. The history of the Bureau, what rituals to do and when, all the protocols for every possible fucking situation. Practicing the service weapon ritual with a replica once a quarter. If it doesn't hurt, you've got a passing grade. It's hurt pretty much every time Ethan's done it.

"I didn't really wanna go anyways." He takes a seat on Dylan's bed cross legged. "What're you drawing?"

[truebelieved-blog]

REBLOG IF YOUR MUSE IS A HOT DAD (DILF).

[tidesandtwilight]

never underestimate how cathartic it is to be an absolute little weirdo. just a straight up freak

[diedindulvey]

"You need to eat something real. I know you don't want to. Eat something real."

"Not hungry." Ethan rolls over, curling in on himself. He sighs, glaring at the wall. "Just leave me alone, okay? If the Connections get mad, great. They can go fuck themselves."

He was supposed to be allowed to watch Rose getting a birthday gift from him (not that she would know), but a BSAA raid interrupted a data retrieval mission Ethan was supposed to go on. He couldn't get the data, so the gift was given to a pack of Hunters to destroy. He wasn't even allowed to see his daughter on her big day. Won't be allowed to see her until he gets the data they want; a thing he can't do until they coordinate a mission for him.

"It wasn't my fault this time! This isn't fair!"

[mythshire]

⋆ · 𖤓 · ⋆ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ··· a collection of soup gone cold and blankets shared, the intimacy of being cared for when you are at your worst. genre: romance, hurt and comfort, soft angst, domestic.

You're burning up. Don't argue with me. Get back in bed.

I made soup. It's not great. Eat it anyway.

You should have called me the moment you started feeling like this.

Stop trying to get up. There is nothing on this earth that needs you upright right now.

I found three blankets and a hot water bottle. Pick your combination.

You look terrible. I mean that with so much love.

Let me take your temperature. Stop being difficult about the thermometer.

I cancelled everything. Don't apologize. I wanted to be here.

You fell asleep mid-sentence. I stayed anyway. I hope that's okay.

Drink the tea. Yes, all of it. I'll make more.

I've been checking on you every hour. You keep telling me to go home. I keep not going.

Your voice sounds awful. Rest it. We can talk tomorrow.

I'm not going anywhere. Stop thanking me for staying.

You hate being taken care of. I know. Do it for me anyway.

The fever broke. I don't think you know how relieved I am right now.

Sleep. I'll be right here. I'll wake you up if anything changes.

I brought your favourite thing from the place on the corner. Don't cry. Please don't cry.

You're a terrible patient and somehow I still want to be the one doing this.

I know you think you're being a burden. You are not a burden.

Let me sit with you. I don't need to talk. I just don't want you to be alone.

You tried to make your own tea and you could barely stand up. Sit down. I've got it.

I've seen you strong. This doesn't make you weak. It just makes you human.

You smell like fever and you still somehow look like everything to me.

Lay your head here. Right here. I've got nowhere I need to be.

I brought every movie you've ever mentioned. We have time.

You're mumbling in your sleep. I'm not going to tell you what you said.

I changed the sheets while you were in the shower. Don't make it weird.

You need to eat something real. I know you don't want to. Eat something real.

I've been sitting in this chair for four hours. I'd do it four more.

Stop apologizing for being sick. People get sick. Let me help you.

Your hands are cold. Give them here. I'll warm them up.

I found the medicine in the back of the cabinet. Take it. All of it. Don't negotiate.

You're not inconveniencing me. Taking care of you is exactly where I want to be.

I didn't know you got like this when you were sick. Softer. I like knowing this about you.

You asked for me. Out of everyone, you asked for me. I haven't stopped thinking about that.

The heating pad is on the lowest setting. Tell me if you need it warmer.

I'm not leaving until your temperature is normal. Make your peace with that.

You cried a little when the soup was too hot to eat yet. I pretended not to notice.

I've never seen you let anyone take care of you before. I'm honoured. I mean that.

Your hair is a mess. Can I? Is that okay? Let me just — there.

You keep saying you're fine every time I check and you are so obviously not fine.

This is the third night in a row. I'm not going anywhere. Stop looking at me like that.

You're delirious and still trying to be funny. It's working. Please stop, I'm worried about you.

I learned how to make your mother's recipe. It took three attempts. Don't tell her.

There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, even like this. Especially like this.

You always take care of everyone else. Just this once, let someone take care of you.

I left the light on in the hall in case you woke up scared. I remember you mentioned that once.

I'm here. I've got you. Just rest. Everything else can wait.

[diedindulvey]

@drxmxtispersonxe 's Zane gets a visitor :)

Sometimes it feels like the Oldest House has intention behind it's random shifting, and if that's the case Ethan really owes the house a big thank you card or something. All it takes is one shift while he's using the restroom - his appointed chaperone waiting outside - and suddenly his walk is much less supervised. Ethan's first thought is leaving altogether. His second is trying to figure out how to find a way out then back to get Dylan, then out again without getting caught.

He doesn't find the way out he expects. There's no lobby or door or view of the street, just a dead end with a pull-string and a sign: THE RULE OF 3 IS IN EFFECT. Maybe the Oldest House has a reason for bringing him here. He reaches out and nervously pulls the string. The lights flicker. He pulls again. Everything goes blue. He can hear footsteps behind him, but doesn't look to see who it is before pulling one more time, and suddenly finding himself somewhere he's never seen before. But he's heard of it. The Threshold Kids might've had an episode, it maybe it was just something he overheard. It doesn't matter.

Ethan's in a hallway flanked by doors. "Holy shit." He tries every door, the knobs jiggle, but the locks keep him from actually getting in. First down one hall. Then the front entrance of the lobby; no luck. Then the other hall of doors. He even tries a janitor closet; locked and he's sure he can he's Ahti's voice, laughing and saying something about a bell.

And a bell he finds. A little 'ring for service' that he hits and. Okay. Ethan doesn't have a lot of life experience. So maybe it's stupid, but he can't help but grin and hit the little thing again. And a couple more times, just to enjoy it. But then he remembers the rule of three. So he rings it three more times just to be safe before he forces himself to walk away from the thing. He really should be finding a way out, then back to get Dylan, then back to here, then out. Easy.

Another check of the rooms and the doors have different symbols to before. Or, more accurately, one door does. It's a spiral. He tries the knob, and finds it locked.

But he's sure he can hear something from the other side, so he tries knocking, "Hello? Is someone there? Can you hear me?"

[diedindulvey]

Smash or pass 💀

There's a fair bit of pacing before he actually answers, during which he pointedly DOESN'T LOOK at Will. Has Ethan thought about it? Yes. Too many times. But. Mia hasn't actually been dead that long. It feels like a betrayal of his marriage vows.

He fumbles with pulling a vape from his pocket, blatantly taking a hit in front of the agent before he can bring himself to admit it out loud. "Yeah, smash." On an attempt to obscure his answer, or maybe just an attempt at humor, he adds, "literally, with a rock or something."

[vamplire]

assert your dominance. bite the vampire.

[loisnclark]

     𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  .

[botccher]

probably gonna go through some weird and unknown phase of my life soon

[diedindulvey]

In the flickering lights of the Prime Candidate wing Ethan can feel the beginnings of a headache. He knows exactly how this is going to play out. Before anyone from security can show up to yell at him to do so, he gets up from where he's been reading and heads to the cell wall furthest from the door. Back to the door, feet shoulder width apart, hands behind his back, where they can easily be seen. Not a threat.

He closes his eyes and wills himself not to have a headache, despite the futility of it. Security is yelling at Dylan. Research is yelling at security and Dylan. Dylan is yelling at everyone. There are other people Ethan can't identify just screaming. Ethan half considers cutting off his own ears so he doesn't have to listen to it anymore, but that would mean moving, finding a sharp object; he knows better than to even attempt it in this situation.

"P8-" Ethan's title in the program, barked at him by a new voice before a softer, "Oh." It must be some member of security he's never met. This might be their first time dealing with one of Dylan's outbursts. "Yeah! Just stay like that and don't do anything which can be considered a threat!" They sound like some kind of wannabe drill sergeant.

Ethan rolls his eyes, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the newbie, "fuck you." His head hurts and he doesn't feel like dealing with this.

It's only after he says anything that he realizes what he's looking at is not a person in the normal security uniform. That's a ranger's outfit, being worn by a very upset ranger. Of course; they're always so self-important. Anyone from security would just let him run his mouth so long as he stayed in position in his cell, out of the way. But not this prick. The cell door gives a soft hiss as it slides open.

Before the ranger can come in and do anything both he and Ethan will regret, Arish arrives to bark, "What're you doing?! I said check on him, that does not mean to go into his cell!"

Arish is a decent man. He's never done anything to Ethan out of spite, and he'll give Ethan updates about the Spurs even though he's more of a Pacers guy himself. He says something Ethan can't hear over all the screaming to the ranger as Ethan turns back around to stare at the wall again.

The lights go out. Ethan stands in the dark. It reminds him of when Eveline was done with him, or when she would put away her toys and go home for the day. Surrounded by darkness. Immobile. In that dollhouse that ruined his life.

How long will it be this time before she comes back? He clenches his jaw and tries to control his breathing. Remind himself he's not there anymore. He counts his breaths; the only useful thing to come out of the therapy he's been forced to go to at least twice a month- twice a week on bad weeks- since his arrival.

In. 1-2-3-4. Hold. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7. Out. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. He can feel the tension relaxing bit by bit. He's not in the dollhouse. He's in his cell. He's safe. She can't get into the Oldest House.

By the time the lights come back on everything is quiet. Ethan stays where he is. Waiting. He's supposed to be allowed out for a walk tomorrow. Unsupervised and everything. Casper promised. Ethan is determined not to fuck it up for anything. He hopes the ranger doesn't try to ruin things, but tells himself Arish can vouch for him; Ethan is behaving. He stays in position, waiting for official permission to go back to the book he had been reading. He tries to tell himself they didn't forget about him as seconds turn to minutes that stretch on and on and on.

"Oh! Ethan, what are- huh. Uhm." Dr. Casper Darling is the first one to notice him still facing the wall. The department head sounds as softly uncomfortable as always; like interacting with people is some maze of pitfalls he can't quite see, but he tries to avoid. "You, uh, you're fine. Dylan is resting." A nice way to say drugged to high heaven.

Ethan slowly moves away from the wall, turning as his hands drop to his sides. His book is sitting on his cot where he left it, still open and inviting him back to the little escape it provides. He doesn't even get close enough to pick it up before Darling starts talking again.

"We were going to," he looks apologetic, giving something of a sad smile that Ethan knows means trouble, and knows he shouldn't find charming (but he does anyways), "well, since Dylan is unavailable..." He trails off, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

Ethan sighs, flopping himself down on his cot and closing his book. "I didn't provoke him." This time.

"If you're not busy right now, but if you are," Darling's hands come up, palms out and placating as if Ethan were the one throwing a fit earlier, "we can reschedule for tomorrow."

And, just like that, Darling's got him. Ethan can't tell if this is honest coincidence or calculated threat. IT doesn't really matter which. The department head isn't going empty handed today just because the first freak he wanted to poke at isn't an option anymore.

Ethan drags a hand down his face with a groan. He pulls himself to his feet. "Nah, today is fine." He doesn't bother saying he's got plans tomorrow. The door hisses quietly as it slides open for him to step out. "What did you have in mind?"

Casper's hand finds the small of Ethan's back, gently guiding him through the Oldest House as he talks about something called an Astral Spike someone brought back on accident. Ethan can only half listen, too busy trying to convince the butterflies in his stomach to calm down. It's just a little touch. It shouldn't- it DOESN'T- mean anything at all.

-x-

"It's kind of beautiful, in a chaotic way." Darling smiles at the flowing, shifting, mass of black and gold they managed to contain to a single room that, ironically, is designed to simulate the Astral Plane the thing came from. "No one's been able to get near it, and it doesn't respond to attempts at communication."

"LIke a jellyfish?" Ethan doesn't realize he's said anything weird until the research head looks at him like he's appeared out of nowhere with two extra heads. The blond clears his throat awkwardly. "Jellyfish don't have brains. They don't really think. They just float. Eat. It takes a special tank to hold them." He looks away from Darling, focusing on the floating, spasming thing beyond the viewing window instead. "Right?"

It's something he remembers from a magazine when hew as a kid. Zoo Facts? Or Zoo Books? Something like that. But he could be misremembering. He could be flat wrong. The FBC tried to provide the kids they took in with some education, but no one in the bureau seemed to ever know what was or was not age appropriate. Ethan knows there's gaps- things a someone his age should know, but he doesn't. Sometimes this gets him mockery and sometimes it gets him pity from the people in the bureau who were able to have an education- a whole life- outside the Oldest House. Ethan doesn't like either treatment.

"Nevermind." It's as small as Ethan feels in that moment. It's bad enough that he seems dumb to normal people; to someone as smart as Darling? He must seem like a complete moron. Not much better than the Astral Spike. Or a fucking jellyfish.

Darling's hand is warm, solid, and heavy on Ethan's shoulder as he chuckles. "A lot like that, eyes. As far as we know, anyways. We're having a tough time getting close enough to study it."

Ethan can see why. Everything the Spike gets near shakes or ends up sailing across the room. It begs the question of what that has to do with Dylan; assuming this is what they would have brought him out for if nothing had upset him earlier.

"So, what, you were gonna throw Dylan at it to see what happens?"

"No, no." Another little laugh leaves Darling as he squeezes Ethan's shoulder, trying to be comforting, but so awkward. If he notices the stupid little smile Ethan gives at the attention, he doesn't say anything about it. "We have a theory, well, at this point I'd say it's the only theory we can safely assume is proven- but we think the Astral Spike is hostile towards any living thing on this plane. Although, 'hostile' in and of itself assumes intent. If it's like a jellyfish, like you've proposed, then it may be more accurate to say it, uh, it's disruptive to the functioning of living beings on this plane."

Ok. Ethan looks away, wanting to hide that he has to swallow past the lump in his throat. "So you're plan is to throw me at it and see what happens, because I'm-" instead of finishing with a gentle 'not like other living things' or a more venomous 'just an expendable fucking doll'.

The realization is extra bitter because this is Casper. He's someone Ethan trusts. Someone Ethan likes- like, really likes. And he's treating Ethan less like a 'who' and more like a 'what'. This shouldn't be a surprise and it shouldn't feel like a betrayal. There's a fairly sizable population of bureau staff who think of Ethan that way once they learn anything about his condition or how he came to be in the Oldest House. He shrugs the hand off his shoulder with a huff, "let's get this over with."

"Ethan." Darling actually sounds concerned. His brows furrow and his hand lingers somewhere on the way to reaching out for the younger man again, but ultimately he gives up. "It's not like that." Again, it sounds like he's trying to be placating, as if Ethan is as likely to blow up as Dylan. "I wouldn't put you in danger like that."

Ethan knows, he really knows, that the head of research only feels like this because Ethan is technically FBC property. He's their responsibility. Trench would be pissed if something happened to one of the Prime Candidates. He views them as his responsibility as much as he does the rest of the bureau, so he would give Darling Hell if anything happened to Ethan without good reason. But he wants to believe it's because Darling cares about him. He wants to believe that some of his stupid, fluttery feelings are returned. So that's what he tells himself and it brings his smile back.

When Darling wraps an arm around Ethan's shoulder, the candidate leans into it. When the older man starts to lead him away from the viewing window and towards a folding chair and table set, Ethan goes. And when Darling actually takes Ethan's hand to guide it onto the table, fingers splayed, Ethan lets him. Darling wouldn't let him get hurt. Whatever he's doing, it'll be okay. Because Darling cares about him and Ethan trusts him. Especially when Darling gives him a soft 'atta boy' that makes Ethan's cheeks feel a little warm.

"I'm hoping we'll be able to see what the Spike does when to living tissue when it isn't allowed to do- well- whatever it does. You're the only one who can help me with that." He takes Ethan's free hand in his free hand. "This might sting a little, so just squeeze if it hurts, okay?"

If he closes his eyes, Ethan can just about pretend that this is something they're doing on a date. He's never been on one- even if anyone would, Ethan isn't allowed out of the Oldest House- but he's sure it would involve hand holding. He's sure he would feel warm and safe and Darling would talk about whatever he wants and Ethan could just listen and nod along and it would be perfect. He focuses on this thought, hoping to use it to keep himself from doing anything embarrassing when they do a little blood draw or something for their experiment. Ethan's used to blood draws, he's not worried. But he's not going to tell Darling he doesn't need his hand held.

What Ethan doesn't expect is a sudden burning sting that he hasn't felt in years. The sound of a knife forcing through his ring and pinkie fingers to meet the table is drowned out by Ethan's sudden, surprised shout. His other hand squeezes Darling's as hard as he can.

"Sorry, Doc." It's a familiar voice that doesn't sound sorry at all. Ethan forces his eyes open and his stomach drops at the sight of that asshole ranger from earlier. "I know you said you needed one, but it didn't spread it's fingers enough." His horrible, smug grin is pointed right at Ethan. "Guess this means we'll do it with two." He sheaths his knife. Ethan's chest feels tight. Everything feels cold. The man picks up his severed fingers, taking the time to really examine them as he lets out a low whistle. "Holy shit; still warm. And he didn't bleed at all. I guess what they say about it are true. It's just a-"

"If we could begin the test. Please." Ethan only distantly realizes that Darling sounds more authoritative than usual. But uneasy; as if he's not used to having to take this tone.

If the ranger replies, Ethan can't hear it over the static in his head. He hardly realizes he's moving, following Casper's lead as they head back to the viewing window, hand in hand. Putting distance between Ethan and the ranger. As if Ethan might attack him. If he still felt like himself, if he didn't feel cold and detached from his body, Ethan might've.

Eveline used to do that when she was upset. Or when she was bored. She did it to all of her dolls. Taking them apart. Putting them back together. Again and again to amuse herself. Sometimes she would mix and match. Ethan will never forget his horror the first time she put his head on Mia's torso. Or Lucas's legs on Ethan. She sometimes mixed up all their fingers between them and wouldn't fix it until they managed to figure out who's belonged to who; laughing and mocking them all the while.

The only way to get through it was to shut it all out. Distance himself from his and everyone else's bodies. Let his head fill with fuzzy static and everything else go colder and colder until he was numb to it. Shrink into himself smaller and smaller until he was nothing but a speck far, far away. Inhuman. Dolls don't hurt and they don't get scared and they don't feel sick or disgusted at themselves; they're empty and numb. It's where Ethan goes when he can't handle thinking or feeling like a person.

In some distant way, something hurts. Ethan wants to block it out, but it's different than anything he's ever felt before. Like some part of him is being ripped apart at a molecular level, rearranged in such a way that severs any connection to Ethan himself. He hears crying somewhere far away, coming from the body he left behind.

"-an?" A gentle squeeze helps draw Ethan's attention back to his hand. He has a hand. It's attached to an arm that's attached to a torso that's him. "Hey, c'mon." He has ears. He can hear the soft words. He has eyes. They can almost make out the shape in front of him. "That's it." It's a face. So close to his own. There's a hand in his hand. And another on his cheek, thumb gently rubbing away some of the wet. Darling. Ethan knows him. "You with me?"

"Uh-huh." He gives Darling's hand a weak squeeze and gets one back in return. "Dr. Darling."

"Atta boy." Darling smiles and Ethan finds himself smiling dreamily back.

His voice sounds closer than before, but his tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. Like he's trying to remember how to use his mouth. "Can I put my fingers back on?"

The department head's soft smile melts into a concerned frown and Ethan finds himself mumbling an apology, not quite sure what he's done wrong. Are they already back and he just hasn't noticed yet? He lifts his hand and blinks at it, having to count one, two, three times before he's sure. He's missing two fingers. Instead of how it usually looks, there's skin over the nubs, pink and fresh and itching the more he looks at it. There's no blood. Ethan doesn't bleed.

"What do you remember, Ethan?" He keeps using Ethan's name. Not 'it' or 'P8'. It makes Ethan happy.

"That asshole cut my fingers off."

"That's right." He nods, laughing a little nervously. "What did we do with them?"

Ethan shrugs. Tries to remember through the static between his ears. "He threw them at the Astral Jellyfish?" It feels like waking up after a nap that's gone on too long.

"Yes. Well." Casper nods slowly and tries to smile. It looks like he's having to keep himself from running back to his lab instead of dealing with this. "We've observed some very interesting things." It's easier for him to focus on these details, his discomfort melting away as he gets lost in the thrill of discovery. "So the Spike knew as soon as the ranger was in the room; for something with no eyes or brain as far as we know, it was able to lock onto the ranger's position with amazing accuracy. Initially, we thought it, uh, that it tracks movement, but when the ranger was still the Spike still seemed to know where he was. But we already knew that; what we need to know is what it does to tissue it manages to catch. Of course, we could only use what we had on- eheh, on hand." He giggles before realizing what he's said and how that might be in poor taste.

Ethan nods slowly. He feels sick.

"The ranger left your fingers on one of the astral simulation cutouts before he made for the exit. There was a three second delay in which the Spike tracked him before it stopped and began to start tracking, uhm. You."

The blond tries to talk, but he isn't even sure he's breathing. He's not sure he can breath. He can only manage a soft, distressed, "you weren't able to get them back?"

"That's the incredible part; there doesn't seem to be anything to left to get back. Nothing recognizable as you, anyways. We were able to get a recording, so I'll have to review it before I can say for sure, but it, uh, well, it seems like the Astral Spike somehow converted your fingers to astral matter!" The way he says it sounds like something thrilling and magical, but Ethan just feels like his knees are going to give out. "And if you look at your hand, looking at this part, here," he gently touches Ethan, rubbing over the newly grown skin in a way that makes the younger man shiver, "you've never had coverage like this at a severance point like this before. It's as if your body knows we aren't getting these parts back and it's compensating for it."

Ethan sways on his feet, nodding a little too quickly. He can't share Darling's excitement. He can't even enjoy that he's partially the cause of this excitement. All he can do is softly say, "I would like to go back to my room, please." He doesn't remember much after that.

[diedindulvey]

//Tumblr continuing to not let my comment on posts with Ethan blog. Because reasons?? -.-

[umbrellamedic]

//Control 2 has a release date; I just wanna say I do have FBC aus for both Bertha and Ethan if anytime is interested. I can talk about this so much. :)

[pipshinwhatever]

Things to say to convince people you are normal

1) I am normal

2) I have always been normal

3) I'm normal now

IMPORTANT NOTE: do NOT say numbers 2 and 3 within seconds of each other. I will update with more information as it unveils itself to me

[victini]

*puts my hand on your shoulder* listen. I DID mean to make you upset and i DO think your opinions are shit