Gabriel Reyes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellshot) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-04-16 12:28 pm
hellshot) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-04-16 12:28 pm
Entry tags:
adieu to the fuckers
who: Reaper and Wikus
what: Man turning into an alien meets up with a guy who looks like a zombie. Possible understanding through similar experiences in living with visible body horror.
when: Middle of the month.
where: Floor 8, communal.
warnings: Fucked up body horror and mentions of possible gore and gross stuff. Reaper's dead face, Wikus' half-human half-prawn physiology.
There was something he far preferred about being out in space. And that was the fact that in that giant space fleet, he had his own quarters. A place where he could relax with his mask off without worry that someone would pop in and freak out over sharing space with a man who looked like the walking dead. A place he could shower and change clothing in peace without constantly checking around corners for anyone who still might be up and wandering at the same (odd) hours that Reaper keeps.
It's one of the more quiet nights when he decides to risk hopping into the shower. Most of the communal floor are either out on jobs or whatever the hell they get themselves up to after hours--or they're asleep. It's deadly quiet on floor 8, so he decides it's a better change than any. And it's a success, in the end, too--managing to claim the shower for himself without having to explain why the water turns an inky black as it swirls the drain, like he's washing dirt from being in a fire off his skin, and why he breathes black smoke that mingles with the steam all the while.
Drying his hair with a towel, he's even become relaxed as he stands, half-clothed in just a pair of slacks when someone else walks in. He's not so nervous to do something like jump or tear away behind something of fear of being seen--but he does make an attempt to cover the bottom half of his face with a towel when turning round to face whomever the hell had walked in on him.
What meets his eyes is something that's startling enough to forget the fact that he's standing there, a living breathing zombie with chunks of flesh missing from his arms and chest--ribs showing under grey, pallid flesh and wounds glowing a light red as if they're burning. A man who doesn't look so much like a man and more like something from a well-animated live action horror film. His eyes just don't match, and it looks like he's an alien who is in the process of shedding a human skin to return to its true form.
To put it in the simplest words:
"...Thought I was the only freakshow in the building."
what: Man turning into an alien meets up with a guy who looks like a zombie. Possible understanding through similar experiences in living with visible body horror.
when: Middle of the month.
where: Floor 8, communal.
warnings: Fucked up body horror and mentions of possible gore and gross stuff. Reaper's dead face, Wikus' half-human half-prawn physiology.
There was something he far preferred about being out in space. And that was the fact that in that giant space fleet, he had his own quarters. A place where he could relax with his mask off without worry that someone would pop in and freak out over sharing space with a man who looked like the walking dead. A place he could shower and change clothing in peace without constantly checking around corners for anyone who still might be up and wandering at the same (odd) hours that Reaper keeps.
It's one of the more quiet nights when he decides to risk hopping into the shower. Most of the communal floor are either out on jobs or whatever the hell they get themselves up to after hours--or they're asleep. It's deadly quiet on floor 8, so he decides it's a better change than any. And it's a success, in the end, too--managing to claim the shower for himself without having to explain why the water turns an inky black as it swirls the drain, like he's washing dirt from being in a fire off his skin, and why he breathes black smoke that mingles with the steam all the while.
Drying his hair with a towel, he's even become relaxed as he stands, half-clothed in just a pair of slacks when someone else walks in. He's not so nervous to do something like jump or tear away behind something of fear of being seen--but he does make an attempt to cover the bottom half of his face with a towel when turning round to face whomever the hell had walked in on him.
What meets his eyes is something that's startling enough to forget the fact that he's standing there, a living breathing zombie with chunks of flesh missing from his arms and chest--ribs showing under grey, pallid flesh and wounds glowing a light red as if they're burning. A man who doesn't look so much like a man and more like something from a well-animated live action horror film. His eyes just don't match, and it looks like he's an alien who is in the process of shedding a human skin to return to its true form.
To put it in the simplest words:
"...Thought I was the only freakshow in the building."
no subject
He's not actually sure he deserves a second chance, but he'd do anything to turn back the clock to before the transformation started. There are a lot of things that just getting his body back won't fix.
"Aside from those, uh, holes, you don't even look half bad, man." Spooky and a bit terrifying, but not, y'know. Turning into a bug-alien ugly. He frowns at his reflection again and strains to scratch at a patch of skin still clinging to the shell encasing his shoulder. Disgusting.