@wickedxwaves | | closed starter
The four poster bed was a little mocking. His body was sore- like someone had slammed him with magic so hard it left his bones with an ache. It was nice to wake up slow, the gentle break from work leaving him tired, but he suspected it wasn’t just his work that left him that way. It was the magic still riding him.
He ached to pull himself up, pressing a hand to his forehead. What the heck happened? The door began opening, and Ben rushed. Slipping his hospital mask back on, he grabbed a nearby lamp, heavy and firm. He ripped the chord out, letting the copper wiring and rubber fall, and held the lamp back over his shoulder, ready to throw if it came to.“Who are you?” He demanded. His words had the slight muffle he was used to from his 3-ply mask. “Where am I?”













