[starter for @ask-the-groomโ |ย
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฏ๐ - โโ/โโ/โโโโ ย โโ:โโ,
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ๐๐ฐ๐ค๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ ๐๐ญ๐ฐ๐ค๐ฌ ]
๐ท๐ ๐๐๐๐โ๐ ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ข ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐: of all the things he lost after the incident, that was the one that majorly made him aknowledge the situation in its fullest.
Of course, he had stayed up countless nights to work on articles, investigate, follow a track, but the lack of weight of the tiredness over his body, albeit ideal, was alienating. And to think he wished for it so much at the third consecutive all-nighter, back in the days, downing coffee only for the taste at some point than the ineffective caffeine.
Milesโ eyes rolled back to the white, shaking himself off from the state of semi paralysis and stasis he had stayed in until then, quiet and subjected to the incessant buzzing of the nanobots keeping his flesh from completely decaying like a loving mother tenders the sonโs rashes and cuts from running around, regaining slowly that apparent control over his limbs that was simply a thoughts-walrider-tendons and muscles, an overseer of a friendly puppeteer that took over his body. After a few seconds it certainly felt more natural, force of habit, but every time the sensation of thinking of an action and seeing it just happen as a spectator while the bots sent some faux electrical impulses to his brain was... bad. Nonetheless, he sat up from the pile of bodies, looking around briefly while starting to hazily levitate, to reach a compromise between the ground and the high ceiling of the mental hospital, high up on his untouchable throne of black restless cloud.
If the memory served him right, he was just near the rooms once advised to the works in the facility, having laid there for the night. He was going to meet someone specific and he thought that maybe, maybe, even some sparse light would have helped clinging onto sanity.
He wanted to talk, possibly in the most close to a decent human-human conversation that the place could have afforded.
They had met up recently -rather roughly even, but maybe memory failed at this point everyone. The man seemed to reset sometimes, or that was his hypotesis- so the noise lead him fair and plain, not being subjected to interrupted flight of stairs or elevators, the fallacy of the wood that gave to the termites and laid obstructing every five steps. And every sign of dragging, pieces of cloths, then progressively mannequins only confirmed the rightfulness of his direction. The man didnโt hide, that was positive. But also, nature teaches that if an animal doesnโt feel the need to hide, in most cases means that it has no predators, no reason for it, no fear and perhaps a wide knowledge of its place as apex element in the chain. He definitely did not show any sign of backing up at him, but what could he do to him?ย
Finally the faint humming.
Whatever he had been subjected to didnโt certainly reap him of his talent: he thought that while he caught the movement of the eyes working the fabric, secure and precise, had it been cutting the shapes, raising and folding them to place them neatly aside or sewing, all with a care and beauty that you wouldnโt exactly read in the man at first glance. The groom seemed in a good mood, two fingers knocked briefly on the frame of the open door not too far but not too close to him, in the attempt to not scare the man, all while he had also lowered himself to touch the floor and stand on his legs. They both had to be on the same level for it to start well.
โ๐๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ข๐ช๐ฎ๐, ๐๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ค๐ข๐ง.โ
