08-22-2017, 12:16 AM
In his sleep, Jakob dreamed of the wings once more but felt the wind beneath them give out when a loud noise broke the undisturbed silence of his room. He woke up with a start, grabbing the edge of this side table as he pushed himself up off the bed with the one hand. It was a moment adrenaline because as soon as he realized what he’d manage he fell face-first onto the bare mattress below him. His heart raced as he lay there in almost silence. His alarm beside his bed was playing some Russian band. Jakob recognized it as something of ‘classical’ but that was relative to his time.
The noise that had spurred him back to life had been the female singer screaming into the microphone. ‘LISTEN! Stop, before it’s too late! I’ve already followed you into the abyss. There where your Dead Stars shine and blind the sun!’ Jakob’s mind converted the words into meaning.
How fitting the song was for him, and how terrible the meaning was lost on his brain that was already swimming in painkillers. The ‘rapper’ began his spiel about being a man on his own and how he would never be different than a ‘Crowd of One’. It was a lazy rap, fitting for the current listener who was unconsciously wondering if there was a reason he’d set the alarm or if he could simply fall back to sleep. Only for the woman to scream at him once more.
“Oh-kay, oh-kay.” He replied to his apparently past self. Jakob’s accent was thick, dripping with the pureblood of a Russian whose second language was English. He learned it after waking up in America with no money, home, memory, and missing half his limbs. It was broken at best and butchered at worse. He was just in the habit of always using it. He very rarely needed Russian anymore. “I vonder if she is... How you say: Milyy?” He questioned, swinging the one leg over the edge of the bed and sitting up. His intact hand scratching his dirty gray locks.
He did this long enough to forget what he was thinking about, and doing for that matter.
A moment later he jerked up. “Oh. Yes…” He said, remembering he apparently had plans. He leaned over with rocky balance and ran his right hand through the various loose parchments the fast food joints used to cover his meals with and pawed for something of importance. Finally, his hand touched cold metal. His face lit up with child-like joy as he scooped up the leg by its ankle joint and yanked it out of the mess on his floor with a grin.
Victory. It would be the first of many today!
Jakob held his prosthetic in the air for a moment, amused with its limp lifeless flopping after he shook it. A bark of laughter escaped his cracked lips, then he put it in place. It was impractical for him to keep taking the two body parts off before sleeping, but internally he thought the two would get scuffed up in his sleep. Or maybe he was secretly worried they would become sentient during the night and would have a harder time killing him if they were buried under all the burger joint wrappers.
Next, the stoned man reached into the patchwork blanket bundles and as if he were psychic pulled out a screwdriver from one of the various holes in his mattress. He stabbed at the simple leg a couple times before realizing something important. He needed both hands to fixate the leg, he has put them on backwards once more. “Oh…” His single word broke the silence, his voice sounding tired.
Though silence was not the right word either. The female singer was still demanding he listen to her, still insisting that he needed to stop, and still chasing him into the abyss.
Anyone else might find this dance frustrating, but Jakob was either too high to care or naturally thought hunting his limbs down was amusing. Putting the leg down on the bed and rolling the opposite way onto his belly, the Russian reached under the pile of clothes he needlessly had. In theory, he would have left his arm there. Unless he didn’t, then he could have left it across the room on his dresser - in the same way, you leave your keys next to the door for when you are leaving.
He found nothing in the pile, and when he looked over at the dresser near the door he only found his crowbar carefully slapped against the wall where it seemed only to be held up by magic as there were no hooks for it to hang from. Jakob frowned, how would he get to the bathroom now?
A moment later, using the walls and what was on the walls to hop to the closet sized bathroom he flicked the light on. With the fluorescent lights illuminating his toilet he found a peculiar sight. His plunger had been left in the toilet, the handle standing tall like morning wood after a wet dream. “Vhat is dat doing there?” He questioned out loud, but only the man he was in the past would know. He hopped over and took it by the horn and giving it a light tug. He frowned once more as he realized it had a stronger grip on the bowl than he anticipated… He gives it a harder pull, and another, until his out of balanced body was almost falling to get the thing out.
He must have plunged it with his strong hand. That meant he’d need his strong hand to get it out.
Jakob stared at the plunger a bit longer, like he was still thinking about what to do, finally, he made up his mind that he had no idea where his strong arm was and decided to take care of business anyway. He stared at the plunger’s handle while he took a piss, shaking his head. When he flushed it he was hopeful that the pressure would release it, but it only sucked it harder.
He really needed to find his arm.
With no idea where to start, Jakob opened the shower door only to find nothing but a half-empty bottle of soap. He frowned again. If it wasn’t on the dresser, and it wasn’t in the pile of clothes, then where could it have gone? Did it finally become sentient and instead of killing him, it went out to find an easier target?
Inspiration shot through his brain and the man’s body stiffened. He jumped to the left just slightly and yanked open the medicine cabinet door. Immediately the red metallic arm fell out of the selfless cabinet and into the sink, denting the metal of the sink in the process. Jakob’s smile was of pure delight as he took it in hand and left the bathroom to go put it on. The plunger’s wooden handle still sticking straight out of the toilet.
It took the usual 10 minutes to force the arm into the right position, a second person would drop that time into mere seconds but Jakob lacked friends. It was also the most painful experience a man doped on Bliss could experience and made Jakob reach for another dose of pills. The nerves of the arm and the implant had to reconnect, making it not only impractical but also stupid to keep taking them off. He swallowed another dose of pills before he awkwardly used the screwdriver to secure the arm.
The star on the side flashed to let anyone watching know that it was functional and connected. He then used both hands to position the leg part, then one to support while the other screwed it into place.
Victory! It would be the first of many!
Wait... De je vu…
With limbs intact, he could get dressed. Finding clothes to wear was much easier than finding his arm. Reaching back in the pile he found a pair of pants and a shirt, both were wrinkle ridden and had a faint pre-worn odor to them, but he pulled the garments on regardless.
Without warning, his dull gray eyes light up and he looked glad to realize something. “Cute. Dat is the word!” He nodded triumphantly.
Another victory!
“Why vas I wanting to say ‘cute’?” He asked himself, but the silence of the room didn’t answer. He frowned and scratched his head again. The thick dirty locks ruffled naturally, but he could not recall his earlier thoughts. He shrugged it off and stood, pushing his feet into the shoes at his bed’s side without even thinking about whether they were his or not. It would not be the first time Jakob had collected shoes that were not his. He fished out a plain belt, looped it through his pants, and buckled it just tight enough. Ready to go, he grabbed his key ring from the floor which held the only two keys he owned - his apartment and mailbox keys - and snatched his crowbar off the wall before leaving as if there was something that needed his attention
But there was nothing. He simply exited the building and began to walk down the street, attaching the crowbar to his leg via magnetic grip. After just half a block, he started to crave popcorn.
The noise that had spurred him back to life had been the female singer screaming into the microphone. ‘LISTEN! Stop, before it’s too late! I’ve already followed you into the abyss. There where your Dead Stars shine and blind the sun!’ Jakob’s mind converted the words into meaning.
How fitting the song was for him, and how terrible the meaning was lost on his brain that was already swimming in painkillers. The ‘rapper’ began his spiel about being a man on his own and how he would never be different than a ‘Crowd of One’. It was a lazy rap, fitting for the current listener who was unconsciously wondering if there was a reason he’d set the alarm or if he could simply fall back to sleep. Only for the woman to scream at him once more.
“Oh-kay, oh-kay.” He replied to his apparently past self. Jakob’s accent was thick, dripping with the pureblood of a Russian whose second language was English. He learned it after waking up in America with no money, home, memory, and missing half his limbs. It was broken at best and butchered at worse. He was just in the habit of always using it. He very rarely needed Russian anymore. “I vonder if she is... How you say: Milyy?” He questioned, swinging the one leg over the edge of the bed and sitting up. His intact hand scratching his dirty gray locks.
He did this long enough to forget what he was thinking about, and doing for that matter.
A moment later he jerked up. “Oh. Yes…” He said, remembering he apparently had plans. He leaned over with rocky balance and ran his right hand through the various loose parchments the fast food joints used to cover his meals with and pawed for something of importance. Finally, his hand touched cold metal. His face lit up with child-like joy as he scooped up the leg by its ankle joint and yanked it out of the mess on his floor with a grin.
Victory. It would be the first of many today!
Jakob held his prosthetic in the air for a moment, amused with its limp lifeless flopping after he shook it. A bark of laughter escaped his cracked lips, then he put it in place. It was impractical for him to keep taking the two body parts off before sleeping, but internally he thought the two would get scuffed up in his sleep. Or maybe he was secretly worried they would become sentient during the night and would have a harder time killing him if they were buried under all the burger joint wrappers.
Next, the stoned man reached into the patchwork blanket bundles and as if he were psychic pulled out a screwdriver from one of the various holes in his mattress. He stabbed at the simple leg a couple times before realizing something important. He needed both hands to fixate the leg, he has put them on backwards once more. “Oh…” His single word broke the silence, his voice sounding tired.
Though silence was not the right word either. The female singer was still demanding he listen to her, still insisting that he needed to stop, and still chasing him into the abyss.
Anyone else might find this dance frustrating, but Jakob was either too high to care or naturally thought hunting his limbs down was amusing. Putting the leg down on the bed and rolling the opposite way onto his belly, the Russian reached under the pile of clothes he needlessly had. In theory, he would have left his arm there. Unless he didn’t, then he could have left it across the room on his dresser - in the same way, you leave your keys next to the door for when you are leaving.
He found nothing in the pile, and when he looked over at the dresser near the door he only found his crowbar carefully slapped against the wall where it seemed only to be held up by magic as there were no hooks for it to hang from. Jakob frowned, how would he get to the bathroom now?
A moment later, using the walls and what was on the walls to hop to the closet sized bathroom he flicked the light on. With the fluorescent lights illuminating his toilet he found a peculiar sight. His plunger had been left in the toilet, the handle standing tall like morning wood after a wet dream. “Vhat is dat doing there?” He questioned out loud, but only the man he was in the past would know. He hopped over and took it by the horn and giving it a light tug. He frowned once more as he realized it had a stronger grip on the bowl than he anticipated… He gives it a harder pull, and another, until his out of balanced body was almost falling to get the thing out.
He must have plunged it with his strong hand. That meant he’d need his strong hand to get it out.
Jakob stared at the plunger a bit longer, like he was still thinking about what to do, finally, he made up his mind that he had no idea where his strong arm was and decided to take care of business anyway. He stared at the plunger’s handle while he took a piss, shaking his head. When he flushed it he was hopeful that the pressure would release it, but it only sucked it harder.
He really needed to find his arm.
With no idea where to start, Jakob opened the shower door only to find nothing but a half-empty bottle of soap. He frowned again. If it wasn’t on the dresser, and it wasn’t in the pile of clothes, then where could it have gone? Did it finally become sentient and instead of killing him, it went out to find an easier target?
Inspiration shot through his brain and the man’s body stiffened. He jumped to the left just slightly and yanked open the medicine cabinet door. Immediately the red metallic arm fell out of the selfless cabinet and into the sink, denting the metal of the sink in the process. Jakob’s smile was of pure delight as he took it in hand and left the bathroom to go put it on. The plunger’s wooden handle still sticking straight out of the toilet.
It took the usual 10 minutes to force the arm into the right position, a second person would drop that time into mere seconds but Jakob lacked friends. It was also the most painful experience a man doped on Bliss could experience and made Jakob reach for another dose of pills. The nerves of the arm and the implant had to reconnect, making it not only impractical but also stupid to keep taking them off. He swallowed another dose of pills before he awkwardly used the screwdriver to secure the arm.
The star on the side flashed to let anyone watching know that it was functional and connected. He then used both hands to position the leg part, then one to support while the other screwed it into place.
Victory! It would be the first of many!
Wait... De je vu…
With limbs intact, he could get dressed. Finding clothes to wear was much easier than finding his arm. Reaching back in the pile he found a pair of pants and a shirt, both were wrinkle ridden and had a faint pre-worn odor to them, but he pulled the garments on regardless.
Without warning, his dull gray eyes light up and he looked glad to realize something. “Cute. Dat is the word!” He nodded triumphantly.
Another victory!
“Why vas I wanting to say ‘cute’?” He asked himself, but the silence of the room didn’t answer. He frowned and scratched his head again. The thick dirty locks ruffled naturally, but he could not recall his earlier thoughts. He shrugged it off and stood, pushing his feet into the shoes at his bed’s side without even thinking about whether they were his or not. It would not be the first time Jakob had collected shoes that were not his. He fished out a plain belt, looped it through his pants, and buckled it just tight enough. Ready to go, he grabbed his key ring from the floor which held the only two keys he owned - his apartment and mailbox keys - and snatched his crowbar off the wall before leaving as if there was something that needed his attention
But there was nothing. He simply exited the building and began to walk down the street, attaching the crowbar to his leg via magnetic grip. After just half a block, he started to crave popcorn.
![[Image: tumblr_maolcpnQS61qakj1do1_500.gif]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maolcpnQS61qakj1do1_500.gif)
Warning: Anything that involves Ash should be rated M. Possibly higher.
Erik Vrell : Ash has a 'love' fourth dimensional shape
Erik Vrell : As in its wide and unfathomable for us mere mortals