seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
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seen from Iraq
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seen from United States
seen from United States
Rubber Soul. Just when he thought he had seen the last of her. She really was a stubborn one, wasn’t she? He thought it would have been easy to avoid her, but clearly, karma had other plans. ❝ I would ask if you’re following me again, but we know the answer to that one already. So tell me, Rubber, what brings you here this time? Don’t worry. I won’t attack you, I’m feeling under the weather and you aren't worth the effort right now. ❞
@slimergirl ♡’d
@slimergirl
Years of abusing his physical limitations where sleep was concerned had more than accustomed Terence D’Arby to waking up in odd positions. Bent over his desk. At the foot of a hotel single. Head thrown back in a chair. On these occurrences, however, he had always found himself waking alone, and in much the same mind as he had been when even his ferocious concentration had temporarily given out.
Never before had he awakened to find himself in a place he ought not to be. Not since the hospital in Cairo.
When his eyes fluttered open, then, Terence’s first sensation was one of panic, and he immediately jolted upright.
Tried to, rather. He was lying in awkward position and his limbs felt heavy and disjointed and there was a searing ache lapping at his temples and a noxious heat coursing in his stomach, to the effect that when he forced himself upward the sudden knowledge of these conditions slowed his movements to a stop.
Not since the hospital in Cairo. His mouth was dry.
™ // slimergirl :3c
Send ™ and my muse will do a poor imitation of yours.
“Hey there buddy, best friend, dude, my man, my dude, gamer, gamer boy, pal, D’Arbs, lil’ dude, my … uh … well, I can’t remember all of them.”
@slimergirl liked for a starter
“Hey you, you’re blocking my light. Move.”
slimergirl
"B-being better, is it?"
The fact that he had managed to verbalize at all came as something of a shock, but Terence, as if little more than a spectator of his own actions, found himself pleasantly surprised - curious to see what else he could manage without falling back into the revere that had threatened to overwhelm him. Or, perhaps it had. Perhaps he had truly given in when, almost automatically he had drained the glass that had been given to him and motioned vaguely for something to replace it. But no matter what the truth, a strange kind of will had taken root within him - an odd kind of revival had taken place. He realized quite suddenly that Rubber Soul, despite being the catalyst for his still trembling shoulders, had the capacity to prove something useful as well: a distraction, from these and other symptoms.
It was his injuries which had served last time. It was the pain. But Terence wasn't in any physical pain at the moment. Rather, it seemed to him that he had never had less of a physical presence. But. He still had words. They were still obeying him.
"You know, you really shouldn't downplay your own philosophy, Soul. Striving for perfection. Wanting to overcome your previous self." He smirked. "Who knew you were so motivated.
"But you're a bit late if you want to inspire me. I've always lived by that philosophy. Ever since I was a child. Ever since I realized I was a stand user in a family of stand users, and it was my responsibility to utilize my abilities as I saw fit. Day by day, I let nothing distract me from the path I had chosen for myself. No distractions, no lesser obligations - no supposed physical limitations, or mental ones. Not once did I allow myself to grow complacent with my level of skill - never did I stop believing there was something better to obtain if I only worked to obtain it ..."
He took a choked breath. His hands were white fists on the counter before him.
"Not only in matters of my stand. In everything! No one could possibly understand the level of dedication I put into my hobby ... my collection. Every detail was ... they were perfect. Improving all the time ... some, never able to be improved upon ..."
Terence never once looked at Rubber Soul, but his voice became wretchedly intimate as it began to break.
"And you know what happened? ... Everything that I had created, everything that I had achieved for myself ... that I had striven for ...
"... it was stolen from me. It was all ... stolen from me. D-dammit. Even he was ..."
Whoa there, feisty boy.
Rubber Soul
Wouldn't want to kill you or anything, but if I hugged you and you got flustered and died, so be it. // slimergirl
// Here Lies a Gamer
@slimergirl
Struck by the simple words of his companion, Terence forced his lips into something of a smirk, eyes veering pointedly ahead as he did so.
“Don’t.”
He spoke in what he hoped was the epitome of nonchalance - a tone that had, at one time, been commonplace to his own ears but now felt strangely antiquated. An old tool he was trying to finesse after too many of its subtleties had escaped his mind. Yet, to achieve the affect he desired, it was certainly worth a try.
If there was nothing else he would be able to communicate to Rubber Soul on what promised to be a strenuous evening (for him at least; after all, he was prepared to be left with a rather sizable bill on the other’s part), it was that the former of DIO’s hired assassins owed him no measure of gratitude.
Owed him no measure of anything.
Was in his deepest debt.
And just like it had every time the thought had crossed his mind throughout the past several months, the recollection caused something within his stomach to lurch in revulsion. It had grown more noticeable as the medication had worn off - not only that with which the pain of his injuries was kept at bay, but that which came in the form of frenzied reconnaissance; of plotting his first moves once he was released from the small Cairo hospital; of wondering what kind of world awaited him there. It had been mere weeks, but already the sensation was something he felt he could live with no longer - not if he wanted to survive the torrent of his discovered circumstances. Not if he wanted to regain the ability to look Rubber Soul properly in the eye.
In the darkness, Terence could feel shoulders growing tense as the cab he cab they were sitting in made a slight turn .
“Don’t thank me, Soul,” he continued after a brief pause, in the same tone as before. “All I expect you to do is remember that this won’t be a commonplace occurrence.”
