“I'm still me underneath, aren't I?”
“.. Aren't I.?”
“...Am I.?”
// Reference photo + non-posterized version below cut !
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“I'm still me underneath, aren't I?”
“.. Aren't I.?”
“...Am I.?”
// Reference photo + non-posterized version below cut !
“..Mm.. Needs more water..”
[Something's smelling good in here :3]
[// Let him cook, chat, trust]
“I.. I— They— FEMA..— B-Blood... everyw-where.. They shot them.. P-Please, I don't want to be next..”
» standard-recording.mp3 «
0:50 ───•────── -2:56
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
↪ Voicemail transcript ↓
0:00 - 0:45 “I fou-found this.. device.. on one of the personnel h-here.. H.. He's unconscious. I hope h-he isn't too hur-hurt..My memories are fu-fuzzy... All th-those tests might've fucked my mind up.. like.. like... [Shudders] I-I hate this.. I just— I just want to go home..”
0:45 - 1:06 “My.. My name is.. uhm.. [whispering] (What—What was my n..name..?).. I.. It's.. I don't.. I-Ilias.? I think.. [sigh]” 1:06 - 1:27 “[fuzzy] —I showed signs...? What does it mean..?— Wha-What do they mean?.. I-I-I've just been stressed.! I'm.. not— not them! I—I'm not one of them.. I— swear—! I'm not one of them! Please..! believe me..! I— [commotion, abrupt cut]”
[The rest of the voicemail is silence]
Following the blood trail he found when going out tonight, finds the frantic evacuee. It surprises him to see someone that lost so much blood still alive. He's not sure if he should offer help, but as the shadows there are driven away from there by the faint light of sunrise, he doesn't think he has much choice.
Why, look what we have here. You're pretty far from the hermit's house, aren't you, Leporo? You don't have to worry about me, I'm from there too, but I'm pretty discreet.
- @thee-vampire
(leporo means hare in Esperanto, but it's just because Ilias reminds me of a hare 😔)
[Ilias, surprised by the sudden presence and shaken up by the very recent FEMA encounter, nearly stumbles back. They stare at the man speaking to them for a few seconds, eyes wide and almost akin to that of a startled deer, before they muster up a response]
“I.. s— sorry, just.. just thou—thought you were one of them.. I'm..”
[They stop themself, eyes drifting over to the streaks of blood they've left along the ground. A sense of dread overcomes them at the thought of having FEMA agents knockih at their door tomorrow night due to their trail.]
[But the sun's rising soon, so they have time to hide or get out, probably..]
“..Seems li— like the sun's coming up soon.. We should, uh, head inside.. be..before the hallways get warm.. We, um, can talk more inside..”
[It felt weird to say that.]
“What… happened to you? Whose… blood is that..? on you? Why… why are you wearing FEMA pants? ARE YOU WITH FEMA?!”
[wahhhh you’re oc’s rlly pretty me likie them :3]
-🌀
[He jolts at the accusations, staggering back in surprise.]
“G-Gods no.. It's.. It's my blood.. Someone— burned me.. on my way out— out of the quaran— Quar.. Quaa... quaruanti.. zone.. Q Zone.. I—”
[They hold tighter onto themself, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the trashbag pressing against their skin and the few partially-healed cuts underneath]
“..As for the pants.. I stole it.. I got o-one of the personnel's locker.. key.. during my time there.. stole the pants because th.the hospital gowns were.. uncomfortable.. It felt.. so wrong.. and vulnerable.. Didn't wear 'em til I.. uhm.. I got out..”
[She stares back at ‘🌀’; big-eyed stare, tears and all.]
Я устал.mp3
→ “The ground seems to call for me, do I listen? Do I refuse? I'm not sure. I don't know.”
→ “I'm tired. I can't think. Can I finally rest, Lady Death? Do you give me permission?”
”..hey uhm… it’s.. it’s been a… while. How.. are you.. adjusting..?”
-🌀 (aka @mentalspiralgirl-rpblog)
“To the apartment.? Um, fairly well, I th-think.. Might probably return to the, uh, hermit's house if my search isn't.. fruitful.. The apartment isn't too safe due to, uhm, a cer-certain organization...”
[He lets out a shuddering sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. It hurts to move the injured leg, and he's pretty lightheaded still from the blood loss. Hell, he doesn't even know if he'll be able to go anywhere in this state for a while.]
“B-But I think the familiar.. um, atmosphere's helping m-my nerves. Stuttering and tremors got more bearable..”
“H..How 'bout you? An-Anything interesting happening with you, hm.?”
The soil isn't the best place to sleep in. Maggots aren't the politest, hate them.