A. T. Menelikov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amourtician) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bigapplesauce2014-12-16 11:49 am
amourtician) wrote in bigapplesauce2014-12-16 11:49 am
when visions in the final end must shatter like the glass [open to multiple]
When Jay opens his eyes, he stares into a white wall. Around him is the noise of a city, though the rumble of automobiles is so much louder than he's used to, merging into a sort of feral buzz, a cross between angry bees and static. The noise of the crowd is interwoven into this hum, a hideous counternote. Jay shudders and tries to figure out what sort of wall he's staring at. He reaches out to touch it, then thinks better of it and instead turns around.
He's standing under a marble arch that stands at the entrance to a park. He stumbles back into the inner wall of the arch, suddenly feeling dizzy. It's the noise, the hideous noise that's tunnelling down his ears to his brain, making him feel like his whole head is vibrating. He screws his eyes shut and leans against the wall, shaking. He wants to throw up, but he's very aware that he's in public and he does not want to be unseemly.
He has no idea what's going on. It feels like he's lost some time, for he cannot remember the last thing he was doing, only the distant morning, breakfast with his twin. And now this. He shudders. He wonders, briefly, if he's hallucinating and the idea makes him moan in dismay.
To anyone who may be passing by, it appears as though a lavishly dressed, young, black person of absolutely indeterminable gender just popped into existence of nowhere. He's wearing a suit that looks like a New Romantic gone distinctly Regency, with a floor-length, pleated black skirt rather than trousers. A fur stole drapes around his shoulders; his hands are bedecked with rings, his face is painted brightly. He's wearing boots with pointy toes and high heels, elevating him to a height of 5'8", rather than his natural 5'5".
And he looks so very overwhelmed and sick.
He's standing under a marble arch that stands at the entrance to a park. He stumbles back into the inner wall of the arch, suddenly feeling dizzy. It's the noise, the hideous noise that's tunnelling down his ears to his brain, making him feel like his whole head is vibrating. He screws his eyes shut and leans against the wall, shaking. He wants to throw up, but he's very aware that he's in public and he does not want to be unseemly.
He has no idea what's going on. It feels like he's lost some time, for he cannot remember the last thing he was doing, only the distant morning, breakfast with his twin. And now this. He shudders. He wonders, briefly, if he's hallucinating and the idea makes him moan in dismay.
To anyone who may be passing by, it appears as though a lavishly dressed, young, black person of absolutely indeterminable gender just popped into existence of nowhere. He's wearing a suit that looks like a New Romantic gone distinctly Regency, with a floor-length, pleated black skirt rather than trousers. A fur stole drapes around his shoulders; his hands are bedecked with rings, his face is painted brightly. He's wearing boots with pointy toes and high heels, elevating him to a height of 5'8", rather than his natural 5'5".
And he looks so very overwhelmed and sick.
no subject
She drops her gaze opens the door again, leading him out. "We'll get you sorted," she says as reassuringly as she can, locking her apartment and heading back down with him. "Right after we treat you to some good old-fashioned medication." This with a winning smile.