ERROR [K1-B0/Day7]
Apr 17, 2022 9:50:27 GMT -5
Post by arx on Apr 17, 2022 9:50:27 GMT -5
malaki-boden w/a
aka "kiibo"
He knew he had to leave. But the alarms of his suit would not cease; he thinks perhaps Nowles caused a permanent malfunction and that perhaps she'd meant it to be this way. It was difficult to think his own thoughts without going in circular motions.
-oh wait, no, he is actually just falling.
Perhaps thoughts didn't go in circles like everyone said.
"What would you know about feelings, bolts-for-brain?"
His hands slip on the controls and his mechanical body goes with it. The metal cries out in pain and he thinks he does, too. He can't be certain because Nowles's lament has reached a crescendo as the metal armor that had been protecting him now crunches in on itself—and on the soft and fragile limbs within.
He doesn't rouse again until after Nowles is gone, after the sun has set and the desert winds whistle through the holes in his suit. There's sand in his mouth, stuck in the cracks of his lips. He doesn't know why there has to be so much sand. He doesn't know why he can't feel his legs.
I̸̠̘̞̫̭͒̆̎t̷̗̩͙̥͔̟̲̿̾̋̿͆͘ͅ'̵̞͈͖̽̾́̕s̵̼͇̦̘̈͒́̋͠ ̴̨̢͉̻̲̭̰͇̈́̍̃́̒̚s̶̝͔̤̥͗̓t̴̛̹̻͑͐͑̚r̶̳͍̙̼̊̃̎̚͝á̶͎͖̯͙̋͒͜͜n̸̡̥͎̠̠̭̠̄̀̀̌͂̒̐͜ǧ̸̛̮̱̹̗̭e̴̻̪͙̟̬̥̻͚̊̒̅̉̇͋̚.̵̰̑̕
No, he can. He wiggles his toes; they are not fond of the movement. He pulls away from the pain shooting up his calf and into his knee only for his thigh to pull away and then his hip until all his muscles had gone taut and his limbs had curled themselves into-
He hugs himself. He can't think.
Instead he feels himself falling again. Only this time it was asleep.
He muttered the words to himself—"Hope moves forward."—until his mind had drifted too far out and his lips couldn't keep from going under.
-oh wait, no, he is actually just falling.
Perhaps thoughts didn't go in circles like everyone said.
"What would you know about feelings, bolts-for-brain?"
His hands slip on the controls and his mechanical body goes with it. The metal cries out in pain and he thinks he does, too. He can't be certain because Nowles's lament has reached a crescendo as the metal armor that had been protecting him now crunches in on itself—and on the soft and fragile limbs within.
He doesn't rouse again until after Nowles is gone, after the sun has set and the desert winds whistle through the holes in his suit. There's sand in his mouth, stuck in the cracks of his lips. He doesn't know why there has to be so much sand. He doesn't know why he can't feel his legs.
I̸̠̘̞̫̭͒̆̎t̷̗̩͙̥͔̟̲̿̾̋̿͆͘ͅ'̵̞͈͖̽̾́̕s̵̼͇̦̘̈͒́̋͠ ̴̨̢͉̻̲̭̰͇̈́̍̃́̒̚s̶̝͔̤̥͗̓t̴̛̹̻͑͐͑̚r̶̳͍̙̼̊̃̎̚͝á̶͎͖̯͙̋͒͜͜n̸̡̥͎̠̠̭̠̄̀̀̌͂̒̐͜ǧ̸̛̮̱̹̗̭e̴̻̪͙̟̬̥̻͚̊̒̅̉̇͋̚.̵̰̑̕
No, he can. He wiggles his toes; they are not fond of the movement. He pulls away from the pain shooting up his calf and into his knee only for his thigh to pull away and then his hip until all his muscles had gone taut and his limbs had curled themselves into-
He hugs himself. He can't think.
"Kiibo, darling, you need to be more careful."
Instead he feels himself falling again. Only this time it was asleep.
He muttered the words to himself—"Hope moves forward."—until his mind had drifted too far out and his lips couldn't keep from going under.
kiibo d8x has begun dreaming!
#ERROR. The Underground Oasis
#ERROR. The Underground Oasis
