Jan 1, 2014
I think we need a new radio.
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I think we need a new radio.
You were walking or standing, nothing too difficult, but suddenly keeping your balance is difficult. Your head reels and you stumble, legs trembling and hands grasping to find purchase where ever they can in hopes of keeping you steady. Nothing you do seems to help, and perhaps it’s best to sit down for a while until you feel well enough to walk without falling down.
Weird, it felt like he was getting sick. Except it was so sudden he had no idea what the hell was going on. He found himself falling to the ground rather heavily, not having felt a thing. The room was spinning so he had to close his eyes, not wanting to see. “Ah… The fuck…” Should he call for a medic? Didn’t seem like there’s be a point. Maybe just resting down here would do him some good. At least till the room stopped spinning.
You begin to feel exhausted, to the point that moving any farther has become more than a chore. It becomes very appealing to simply lay down exactly where you are when this wave of fatigue hits you and simply rest until you feel more energetic, should that time ever come. It seems too tiring right now to even consider.
*And Jean finds it extremely odd when the sensation comes, addled brain scrambling to explain the sudden fatigue when he’s done nothing too strenuous beyond daily gym training. He doesn’t even make it to the second floor before his legs buckle in surrender; his hand slides against the wall for support and finds none, collapsing onto his knees fit in the grooves of the stairs that somehow manage to keep him from slipping downwards.
Were anyone to ever find him and comment on his unbecoming position, they’ll receive a knife right in the eye as soon as he can move his fingers.*
You don’t notice at first; it’s a light prickling feeling running up and down from your elbow to the tips of your fingers. ‘It must be nothing,’ you may think, ‘just in my head.’ However, before long, your hands begin to burn. You hold them up to see what the matter is, but they are not there, instead replaced by flesh-colored….. tentacles? Oh dear.
*It all happens when Alex hunches over to glue two wooden parts of his latest project together, and of course at first he’s inclined to ignore it; the liquid adhesive is running and he’s got to stick the two bits fast, lest he wants it dried or misfit. The flare of pain is what causes him to drop his materials completely, and he struggles up to his feet (perhaps to run for the nearest sink, or the medbay even) with both hands raised to his view and turned palm up— but as tendrils greet him instead, Alex turns deathly pale.
Backs up against the wall, eyes centered on this sudden deformity with a mixture of morbid fascination and horror.*
The way his hands continued to shake lightly made it rather difficult to do any kind of paperwork. He wasn't in the right mindset for it currently anyway. That, and he was also still having difficulty keeping his balance any time he tried to stand, what with his head feeling dizzy. He sighed, lifting his coffee mug to his mouth as he stared at the broken glass and split liquid on the medbay floor through the open door to his office. This was not a good sign.
You’re not exactly sure what this sensation is. You know you have two eyes and that they’re open and seem to have no problems, but there’s still something blurry in the corner of your eyes, and you feel a certain pressure, as if you were pressing down on your eyelids. You reach to rub your eyes and that’s when you realize it: eyes, hundreds of them, covering your hands like a rash, all different sizes and colors, and all staring intensely at you. Eventually they'll recede back into your skin.
Of course Ignis was calm about it before he realized he was holding his breath. feeling his arm for any blemishes or marks.
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