==> [S] ???: Shift. (@standbywarrior)
Waking up is strange. First, the awareness of darkness. You can't distinguish where it came from, or when it started. Only that there was something, and then there was nothing, and it culminates when you can feel the weight of your eyelids, shut where there was once intangible purgatory. That sensation spreads, little by little, until you can feel the rest of your body- your, your, your, yours, your-
And, as that field of perception expands, the gentle rise and fall of a body lain still beside you, picked up from the slightest brush of a limb sending signals up yours; Hello, arm here! It's enough to finally land you at your core, fully connected and buzzing, low but conscious, the stretch of every cell that makes up 'you'. Limitless potential energy, waiting only for you to shake the heaviness of sleep from each loglike extremity.
It'd probably help to open your eyes. So that's what you do.
..Grey hands, tucked beside your cheek and twisted among strands of woven fabric, both recognizable yet unfamiliar. They register as your own, though a part of you is also aware.. that you've never worn some of them. It's set dressing. A character design you know, but can't claim. You're still remembering your personality. Still puzzling out what parameters you fit under, today, in this mind that's so often blurred between hues.
You don't know who you are, yet.
A slow, still-waking blink carries your attention to the person you're sharing the space with.
He makes more sense than the rest.