08-19-2018, 02:06 AM
The first thing he could remember was pain. An ebbing fire lining his skin from his neck to his belly, criss-crossing his chest before festering throughout the rest of his apparition. Not that he minded -- he was quite experienced when it came to pain tolerance, after all. What did hurt was the next thing: a glaring light blinding him, filtering through despite squeezed eyelids. The boy tilted his head to one side in an attempt to dodge the bothersome light, yet to no avail. Defeated, glassy eyes blinked open to stare back at the sun -- shouldn't there have been something blotting out the sky? Not fond of having to wait for his corneas to repair themselves, he scrunched his eyes shut in frustration. He gritted his teeth to distract from the throbbing pain as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, only for his jaw to erupt in hidden agony. For a minute, Beck was slack-jawed, afraid to touch the source of the burning yet desperate to rub at it in hopes it would be easily massaged away. All he could do was roll off his back and onto his belly, bewildered at the lack of forest floor against his soles. Sand, where did sand come from? Opening his eyes once more -- or rather eye, the swollen other refusing to open further than a slit -- the scrawny feline looked down at his blood-caked paws and mangled arms against the pearly sand. His gaze drifted to his chest, staring back at the neat sutures binding the two branches of an incision together, sorely visible and jutting out from his fur. Processing his situation agonizingly slow, Beck only blinked down at the horrid injury, blocking out memories of gloved hands digging at his insides looking for answers. After an eternity of mindless staring, he wearily reared his head to glance out over the blue horizon. It was supposed to be green, not blue. His brow furrowed at the change, not liking it at all. But where was he? Who was he?
Everything was groggy, and he hated being trapped in this weakened state. Forcing out a rattling sigh but never inhaling back a breath, the poltergeist twisted his head to face his side, recognizing the first thing since he broke from his trance. An overturned fishing bucket, dented and rusted, with a tangle of vines coiling around it and even more struggling to push its contented back upright; said content being the monstrous plant with no bark and all bite. Audrey III. Was he this Audrey? No, Audrey was his friend -- he needed his lone friend. Beck scrabbled to stand, unable to find his footing in the sand, finally giving up after enough efforts to make his head spin, and instead dragging himself to his fly trap. Why did it seem so far away? The distance only stretched out further in between him and the flailing plant, no matter how many times Beck pulled himself forward, undoubtedly leaving a trail of his tar-like blood to poison the sand.
It took what little energy he had left over to reach Audrey's side, and once there, he flopped onto his side, scooping Audrey III and its bucket into his bleeding arms, tightly hugging his friend close to his chest. He couldn't lose Audrey again. The boy shifted a calloused paw to gingerly brush against the plant's trap, the closest thing it had to a head, before he fell motionless, staring at his stitched chest. His dark fur was matted in a mixture of his inky blood and the crimson stain of mortals; his black was fresh, while the red had dried, clinging to his fur until it spiked and knotted and made him look like an escapee from an asylum who had fought tooth and claw for freedom. Which wasn't far from the repressed truth. Beck allowed his head to relax, letting his missing cheek rest against the thankfully soft sand -- he'd be picking grits from his teeth for weeks, wouldn't he? Yet for now, he simply wanted a break. A bad idea, but his lifeless eyes still rolled back and closed as he tried to force himself to sleep, impatiently waiting for his own recovery.
/ ohoho injuries are a y-incision across chest, a broken jaw (fractured on right side), black left eye, gashes down forearms, and dislocated left knee
[align=center]»――➤Everything was groggy, and he hated being trapped in this weakened state. Forcing out a rattling sigh but never inhaling back a breath, the poltergeist twisted his head to face his side, recognizing the first thing since he broke from his trance. An overturned fishing bucket, dented and rusted, with a tangle of vines coiling around it and even more struggling to push its contented back upright; said content being the monstrous plant with no bark and all bite. Audrey III. Was he this Audrey? No, Audrey was his friend -- he needed his lone friend. Beck scrabbled to stand, unable to find his footing in the sand, finally giving up after enough efforts to make his head spin, and instead dragging himself to his fly trap. Why did it seem so far away? The distance only stretched out further in between him and the flailing plant, no matter how many times Beck pulled himself forward, undoubtedly leaving a trail of his tar-like blood to poison the sand.
It took what little energy he had left over to reach Audrey's side, and once there, he flopped onto his side, scooping Audrey III and its bucket into his bleeding arms, tightly hugging his friend close to his chest. He couldn't lose Audrey again. The boy shifted a calloused paw to gingerly brush against the plant's trap, the closest thing it had to a head, before he fell motionless, staring at his stitched chest. His dark fur was matted in a mixture of his inky blood and the crimson stain of mortals; his black was fresh, while the red had dried, clinging to his fur until it spiked and knotted and made him look like an escapee from an asylum who had fought tooth and claw for freedom. Which wasn't far from the repressed truth. Beck allowed his head to relax, letting his missing cheek rest against the thankfully soft sand -- he'd be picking grits from his teeth for weeks, wouldn't he? Yet for now, he simply wanted a break. A bad idea, but his lifeless eyes still rolled back and closed as he tried to force himself to sleep, impatiently waiting for his own recovery.
/ ohoho injuries are a y-incision across chest, a broken jaw (fractured on right side), black left eye, gashes down forearms, and dislocated left knee