[ jayce kicks back and throws the remains of a broken monster sideways after arcade blasts it off, good riddance. the adrenaline spike may work differently for him now than it used to— little blood and a lack of a healthy functioning circulatory system meant it played more of a mentally trained role than something physical. it has jayce breathing out as if he needed to actually catch his breath, shuffling his hands and bringing his attention back to his travel partner. "nice shot", his nod and thankful glance say wordlessly, but that's only because he tries to get up, looks down, and— well, the wet slap of hanging flesh smacks at his hand first. it's wet, splashing into a puddle were he sat.
jayce gasps when he registers what he sees. there are things oozing and pooling out of the too-deep gash that makes his quivering blue lips press tight to swallow the knot that would remain stuck in his throat. it's another hole in him he's had to see through, the soft, plump floating of an entrail slipping into sight and threatening to drop out with the rest of the spill, infected and oozing with the arcane's blight.
he didn't think he was still rotting on the inside. for some reason. he didn't think it was that bad but what did he expect when his open chest looking no different— ]
Ah . . . Shit, [ he instantly regrets looking. he has to look the other way to avoid panic, because there is no searing, uncontrollable pain. only the chronic aches his undead body would plague him with. jayce does not sob yet, but only because he's straining his voice. his senses are confused beyond comprehension and aren't sure if they should be spiraling him into panic or bringing up some important factors such as: being dead already may have its perks. ] shit.
cw: gore of the zombie type
jayce gasps when he registers what he sees. there are things oozing and pooling out of the too-deep gash that makes his quivering blue lips press tight to swallow the knot that would remain stuck in his throat. it's another hole in him he's had to see through, the soft, plump floating of an entrail slipping into sight and threatening to drop out with the rest of the spill, infected and oozing with the arcane's blight.
he didn't think he was still rotting on the inside. for some reason. he didn't think it was that bad but what did he expect when his open chest looking no different— ]
Ah . . . Shit, [ he instantly regrets looking. he has to look the other way to avoid panic, because there is no searing, uncontrollable pain. only the chronic aches his undead body would plague him with. jayce does not sob yet, but only because he's straining his voice. his senses are confused beyond comprehension and aren't sure if they should be spiraling him into panic or bringing up some important factors such as: being dead already may have its perks. ] shit.