[ he's being watched. he feels it relentlessly since the second combination test— unseen eyes burning into him, always at an angle he isn't facing. and now the voices, it doesn't . . . leave him alone. when jayce sleeps, it's out of pure exhaustion and when he does, it's the same nightmare story. he knows what's happening, he's recording every change he's noticed, and viktor does the same as his partner in crime. at this point, it is driving him to a maddening brink. pushing him, sometimes away from the camp. the convoy's metal trailer is what kept him there, grating stone against its protective shell and debasing it with repetitive words because that's all he could hear all he could think about all he could see you i need you i see you i need you i see you—
by the time jayce snaps around with exaggerated startle (not unlike a horse, or a stag; he's certainly got the antlers to match the former), he hurls the stone without thought and with a frightened shout. where was his hammer? to his left, sunken into dirt that he had dragged about with him. what follows that is— even more disorientation. he realizes who he's looking at, when he focuses more on the face. he's panting, but more out of a reaction to fear. ]
Serph—? I— [ there're too many trees here. this isn't the convoy— ] I don't, I don't know, how I got here— [ this is scary. loss of autonomy and control is scary. his voice is tight, and his eyes squeeze because even then it doesn't stop and he scrapes blunt nails into his scalp as he strains his words through grating teeth. ]
It doesn't stop, it doesn't, it's just, constant, I need you, I see you, I need you, I see you, I need . . .
[ and that babbling only hushes into quiet murmurs, just as low as they were earlier. the trees groan, and the leaves shiver with wind that feels like louder whispers to jayce. it feels like every hair on his body is standing. ]
no subject
by the time jayce snaps around with exaggerated startle (not unlike a horse, or a stag; he's certainly got the antlers to match the former), he hurls the stone without thought and with a frightened shout. where was his hammer? to his left, sunken into dirt that he had dragged about with him. what follows that is— even more disorientation. he realizes who he's looking at, when he focuses more on the face. he's panting, but more out of a reaction to fear. ]
Serph—? I— [ there're too many trees here. this isn't the convoy— ] I don't, I don't know, how I got here— [ this is scary. loss of autonomy and control is scary. his voice is tight, and his eyes squeeze because even then it doesn't stop and he scrapes blunt nails into his scalp as he strains his words through grating teeth. ]
It doesn't stop, it doesn't, it's just, constant, I need you, I see you, I need you, I see you, I need . . .
[ and that babbling only hushes into quiet murmurs, just as low as they were earlier. the trees groan, and the leaves shiver with wind that feels like louder whispers to jayce. it feels like every hair on his body is standing. ]