Experimenting a little. Not sure if I like the characterization of his Doll state from his perspective. And probably not what you intended with that prompt...
Whiskey flows through the Tai Chi forms with the rest of his group, finding his center even as he lets his mind wander. Sometimes he wonders if he's broken. He... remembers things sometimes, or thinks he does. Things not here, that are outside this place (outside at all). People that he doesn't see around him from day to day.
He's happy, but he isn't happy. It's confusing, but then it slides away from him, slippery like oil and he can't get it back.
The group breaks apart, some heading to the showers while others go to a class. Across the open room Whiskey catches sight of the blond man. He sees him around some times, but in that slippery part of his head, he thinks maybe he sees the blond man more often than that. That makes him happy, gives him more grounding than even the Tai Chi can.
He crosses the room to him, smiling until he sees the bruising on his face. "You're hurt," he says, anger creeping into his voice and making it lower.
"It's nothing," the man says, smiling at him. "Doc Ferris has already looked at it."
The anger smooths away, and Whiskey smiles again. "I'm going to go for a swim. Will you come with me?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-04-11 11:39 pm (UTC)Whiskey flows through the Tai Chi forms with the rest of his group, finding his center even as he lets his mind wander. Sometimes he wonders if he's broken. He... remembers things sometimes, or thinks he does. Things not here, that are outside this place (outside at all). People that he doesn't see around him from day to day.
He's happy, but he isn't happy. It's confusing, but then it slides away from him, slippery like oil and he can't get it back.
The group breaks apart, some heading to the showers while others go to a class. Across the open room Whiskey catches sight of the blond man. He sees him around some times, but in that slippery part of his head, he thinks maybe he sees the blond man more often than that. That makes him happy, gives him more grounding than even the Tai Chi can.
He crosses the room to him, smiling until he sees the bruising on his face. "You're hurt," he says, anger creeping into his voice and making it lower.
"It's nothing," the man says, smiling at him. "Doc Ferris has already looked at it."
The anger smooths away, and Whiskey smiles again. "I'm going to go for a swim. Will you come with me?"