[closed] do you not have doors where you come from

[stonefaith]

Date & Time: 7/19 (ish) / sometime after this
Location: Unit 202
Characters: Bariyan e Kodhi (stonefaith), Martin Darkov (theguideless)
Summary: Darkov decides to pay a visit at the WORST POSSIBLE TIME.
Warnings: Bariyan's sorta falling apart into rotting bits it's kinda gross tbh

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There wasn't much light filtering into Bariyan's room right now. He'd locked his door and closed the curtains -- but kept the window open, not wanting to lock the smell in to the apartment. Kept quiet as he could (except, of course, for the part where he'd been nearly yelling at his netbook) and hoped that none of his roommates would want to visit. Even if they did, Bariyan had no intention of seeing anyone in person. Not in this state.

He exhaled, sharply.

That was.... most of a limb gone. Bariyan, seated on the floor, stared unhappily at his right arm. Which was currently laying two feet away from him, and in bad shape to boot. Skin and flesh had started sloughing off earlier and now he could see hints of bone in places. Shit, how was he going to get rid of this?

Bariyan looked to his other arm. He'd broken off the fingers that had started to rot before it could spread -- or at least, he thought he had. Couldn't tell now. The spread had been strange and unpredictable and he wasn't sure where it would strike next, or if it would strike at all. He hoped it wouldn't. He rather needed all the remaining limbs left to him.

Bariyan made a frustrated growl low in his throat, and put his face in one hand. Right now, all he could think about was how badly he needed a drink.

Comments

[theguideless]

"Uh," Martin breathed, dragging the note a bit in his reluctance to reply. "N...o. I didn't. Go back yet, so." His face scrunched up a little as he shot a fast glance back up at Bariyan. "I, I mean, it's dark, so...I don't want to. Wake anybody up. Is all. So."

[stonefaith]

Bariyan's gaze slipped from the courtyard below back to his hand. His nails had been bruised black ever since his revival, and the stumps of his missing fingers were burned dark, but it seemed to him that the veins traveling down his palm and wrist were swelling and blackening too, now. So? Would he have to cut this one off, as well? That would be a difficult thing to achieve without another hand.

He flexed his fingers before returning them to rest on the railing, and gave Martin a sidelong look.

"You should tell them soon," Bariyan said, gently.

[theguideless]

"Yes, sir."

Martin gave the reply to his shoes more than anything or anyone, shoulders sagging in a long sigh. Reluctance and relief all in the same breath. It was confusing to him, though he was hardly thinking about it. He was thinking, instead, of how much better things were going than he'd anticipated.

He'd anticipated a great deal more yelling, for once. Maybe a cuff for his trouble. But then, his more-or-less return wasn't quite over yet, so...

"Mmh." He pushed up away from the rail. He'd bothered long enough, hadn't he? He shouldn't wear his welcome out (it wasn't much of a welcome as it was a putting-up-with-unexpected-visitors, though, wasn't it?) "Sorry for..." Running off. Getting sick. Being a pain. Being around. "Umhn."

[stonefaith]

Bariyan raised his hand. "Don't," he said. "Don't start, Martin. Maybe you have other people to apologize to, but not me." Any apologies owed were the other way around, if anything.

He looked up, then, briefly at Martin and longer at his own hand. He was practically falling apart at the seams. Unsightly, grimly appropriate, and getting worse by the hour. Bariyan sighed. Even under normal circumstances, he was always slightly self-conscious about his physical state of being. This was worse.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this," Bariyan said, lowering his hand back to his side as he stepped away, back towards the wall. He straightened up, looked down towards Martin. "You had better leave. Go back to your room." Said gently; only a suggestion.