Log01.entry

[ugh_emotions]

Who: SecUnit, Charles, and eventually other people depending on how things go lots of other people, everyone join in
What: SecUnit checks up Charles, no one has a good time
When: Just before the start of the Story
Where: The stacks
Content warnings: SecUnit getting accidentally bricked

Every time SecUnit or one of its drones caught sight of Charles, he seemed to look even more dead than the last time.

Which was weird. He was already dead (which was also weird), surely he couldn't get any more dead. You were either dead or you weren't.

Whatever. It wasn't SecUnit's problem. Charles wasn't one of its humans. It didn't need to worry about him.

(It worried about him.)

Eventually though, it gets to the point where it can't ignore it anymore, and it stomps over to where Charles is in the Stacks.

"What's wrong with you?" it demands.

Comments

[steelfeathered]

If she avoids flavor metaphors then the fear presses, it pounds, it writhes like an animal in pain, intensely compelling, and she has a prey bird's desire to take it in her talons and squeeze. Wow that's maybe even worse! She hates that her mouth wants to pull into a smile. Hisako can keep herself from approaching but she finds herself afraid that if she leaps from the catwalk she won't be able to make herself fly away.

If she'd known she could get sent to a boat for attempting to harm the library she would have done so. She doesn't, so she starts preening energetically, licking her feathers in an effort to calm down, the way a trapped rat will wash its face. Sharp edges nip and slice into the outer layers of her tongue, moreso than when she's more cautious about this, but she's been a Stormwing for a long time and doesn't cut herself deeply enough to draw blood.

She casts around with the sense that had almost never seen use in the Divine Realms, trying to 'look' in any direction not at the tableau of winged people and a collapsed someone and that girl with the shadow problem and the ghost whose emotions are just inherently clearer and brighter than those of the living.

There's a... Huh. She double-checks location with her eyes and yep. Sanguinius practically hands his sweet guilt out for the taking, and the formerly wonderful-smelling one drops bittersweet-sour kernels of despair and madness with every motion. The short-haired one keeps things closer to the chest, or at least, he wasn't basically in crisis when she spoke to him, but there was physical pain and a fascinating sort of tingle going on. This beetroot-colored giant, who she's seen before only at a greater distance, has some degree of similarity - aren't they all supposed to be brothers? surely she can't just tell that from the ways they're miserable, she must be influenced by having read and heard this and that - but also. What. It's a welcome distraction. She stares at him talking to someone who's a much more ordinary degree of tall.