[By now, Tetsuo's accepted that he's back to not really sleeping much. It's not even pain that keeps him up anymore. Sometimes, he wonders if he'll wake up again.
Once he reaches that question, he doesn't sleep at all.
Nonah 05 is empty right now. He doesn't know when it won't be; this nebulous pseudo-calm lingers like the charged air before a thunderstorm. It's just him, and Maya somewhere out there, and a fuckton of animals. Right now, he feels like it might be safe to venture out of the room for a while, leaving the shadows crawling on the ceiling in patterns he's traced over way too many times for comfort. It all reminds him of too much.
After August, before he ran. October, before he .. broke the window. It's fixed now, he noticed that much when he was downstairs again. The house feels weird; it's empty in a way it shouldn't be, eerie shadows and quiet. The occasional crash or skitter of a cat or ... it better be a cat down somewhere near the kitchen.
He can make his way downstairs in the darkness with ease, even though he hasn't been back here in a long time, and the time spent here was in occasional bursts at best. This place, somehow, is all too familiar
If he had his powers right now, would he feel quite this isolated? Or would it be even weirder, not feeling the undercurrents of everyone around? Even though he sought it out when the pain got too much for him, the silence now is the hardest part to take. It's like he can't open his eyes, no matter how hard he tries. Or, maybe he can, and there's just nothing there to see.
The living room looms closer, a streetlight outside casting just enough light across the room to glint across the TV screen. Quietly, he heads closer, scanning the room again in case the dog's somewhere here, drawn to the promise of white noise.
He'd use his comm for this, if there wasn't way too much there he didn't want to be reminded of right now.]
Jan 6; 2 AM
Once he reaches that question, he doesn't sleep at all.
Nonah 05 is empty right now. He doesn't know when it won't be; this nebulous pseudo-calm lingers like the charged air before a thunderstorm. It's just him, and Maya somewhere out there, and a fuckton of animals. Right now, he feels like it might be safe to venture out of the room for a while, leaving the shadows crawling on the ceiling in patterns he's traced over way too many times for comfort. It all reminds him of too much.
After August, before he ran. October, before he .. broke the window. It's fixed now, he noticed that much when he was downstairs again. The house feels weird; it's empty in a way it shouldn't be, eerie shadows and quiet. The occasional crash or skitter of a cat or ... it better be a cat down somewhere near the kitchen.
He can make his way downstairs in the darkness with ease, even though he hasn't been back here in a long time, and the time spent here was in occasional bursts at best. This place, somehow, is all too familiar
If he had his powers right now, would he feel quite this isolated? Or would it be even weirder, not feeling the undercurrents of everyone around? Even though he sought it out when the pain got too much for him, the silence now is the hardest part to take. It's like he can't open his eyes, no matter how hard he tries. Or, maybe he can, and there's just nothing there to see.
The living room looms closer, a streetlight outside casting just enough light across the room to glint across the TV screen. Quietly, he heads closer, scanning the room again in case the dog's somewhere here, drawn to the promise of white noise.
He'd use his comm for this, if there wasn't way too much there he didn't want to be reminded of right now.]