[ there's less, bubbly resistance pressing up against his wet palms, and part of that absence has jayce's breathing come back steady, slow, like the ebb of a tide. there's nothing left of intestinal tract other than the sloppy grime of purple and prism trail it left behind in a viscous blot on the floor and on his clothes. how is he goinng to explain that . . . or even wash it off . . .
hah. the thoughts are morbidly mundane for someone he nearly got sliced in half and lives. ]
Dead, [ part bite, half dry humor, all just coping— ] but whole. [ at the most possible, at least . . . jayce gazes down at the handiworking quickly, fleetingly, and approves, ] thank you.
no subject
hah. the thoughts are morbidly mundane for someone he nearly got sliced in half and lives. ]
Dead, [ part bite, half dry humor, all just coping— ] but whole. [ at the most possible, at least . . . jayce gazes down at the handiworking quickly, fleetingly, and approves, ] thank you.