He was home in his mind's eyes, stacking magazines, then the next thing he knew, the winds behind him picked up speed. His body tilted back, his stomach flipped, and he recognizes the fall, a voice echoing up from above the surface he jumped from. You have to stop them! The demi-human blinks, flails, holds his breath when he sees the ground charging at him at that alarming rate. Its gonna be over, It's gonna be over, he tells himself, right before his eyes shut tight and the inevitable crack breaks him. He'll get up again, he needs to. But before he can collect himself, the situation changes faster than he could process it.
An IBM lunges for him— was it Eiji's? Sato's? Those things hate him, even when he's on their side. The ghost's mouth elongates like a serpent's, jagged teeth inviting him back to death while claws drive back to gain momentum to tear him apart. You're not killing me today— I'm not messing this up!
It's this moment, where Ethan reacts. Specifically, to Mallory's slaps that feel like actual punching. Actual punching. Whatever he was quietly dreaming of just got turned completely upside down, very much how life had gone for him, impact jolting Ethan into a halfway point between sleep and consciousness, one that he can't tell is his mind's figment, not right away.
Usually, slaps and punches are a bad thing, a signal of battle. He knew when he had to run, but he knew when he had to fight, too. Gasping in shock and falling into a desperate pant, Ethan's hand reaches for the back of Mal's neck, legs kicking up in panic, all while the other hand shoots out in an attempt to land one tightened fist square against the side of the neck, where the knuckles fit like keys.
no subject
He was home in his mind's eyes, stacking magazines, then the next thing he knew, the winds behind him picked up speed. His body tilted back, his stomach flipped, and he recognizes the fall, a voice echoing up from above the surface he jumped from. You have to stop them! The demi-human blinks, flails, holds his breath when he sees the ground charging at him at that alarming rate. Its gonna be over, It's gonna be over, he tells himself, right before his eyes shut tight and the inevitable crack breaks him. He'll get up again, he needs to. But before he can collect himself, the situation changes faster than he could process it.
An IBM lunges for him— was it Eiji's? Sato's? Those things hate him, even when he's on their side. The ghost's mouth elongates like a serpent's, jagged teeth inviting him back to death while claws drive back to gain momentum to tear him apart. You're not killing me today— I'm not messing this up!
It's this moment, where Ethan reacts. Specifically, to Mallory's slaps that feel like actual punching. Actual punching. Whatever he was quietly dreaming of just got turned completely upside down, very much how life had gone for him, impact jolting Ethan into a halfway point between sleep and consciousness, one that he can't tell is his mind's figment, not right away.
Usually, slaps and punches are a bad thing, a signal of battle. He knew when he had to run, but he knew when he had to fight, too. Gasping in shock and falling into a desperate pant, Ethan's hand reaches for the back of Mal's neck, legs kicking up in panic, all while the other hand shoots out in an attempt to land one tightened fist square against the side of the neck, where the knuckles fit like keys.
Be quick to dodge that, sir. Or not. ]