[Will’s fear stops them in their tracks. Behind their eyes, Will’s face morphs into his eyes in the mirror, the friend’s eyes seeing them, his form materializing across from them in the Rift—No one asked your opinion!
Avalon freezes, momentarily unable to separate Will from the man who took their missing bead.
They are reminded of the pendulum from Will’s Flood memory, and they call the image to their mind, trying to pull themself back to the present moment, force themself to see Will rather than the friend.
They reach out impulsively, dragging their claws across Will’s arm, then leave his cabin.]
This needs to end, [they whisper, almost to themself.] This needs to end soon.
[ Will cries out as the claws scratch him, but he doesn't open his eyes- instead he shuts them harder. Hannibal is not here, he can't be. There's no flood and nothing else going on. He just has to let things settle.
So he starts counting his breaths- or he tries to, anyway. By the time he stops hyperventilating, he finally opens his eyes to see...nothing. It's gone. Winston whimpers at him.
Will brings his hand up and curls his fingers in, noting that the deep scratches might've been his own nails. He sighs and smacks the floor with one hand in frustration. ]
Sorry, Winston. I know. It's...it's okay now. C'mere.
Re: Action
[Will’s fear stops them in their tracks. Behind their eyes, Will’s face morphs into his eyes in the mirror, the friend’s eyes seeing them, his form materializing across from them in the Rift—No one asked your opinion!
Avalon freezes, momentarily unable to separate Will from the man who took their missing bead.
They are reminded of the pendulum from Will’s Flood memory, and they call the image to their mind, trying to pull themself back to the present moment, force themself to see Will rather than the friend.
They reach out impulsively, dragging their claws across Will’s arm, then leave his cabin.]
This needs to end, [they whisper, almost to themself.] This needs to end soon.
Re: Action
So he starts counting his breaths- or he tries to, anyway. By the time he stops hyperventilating, he finally opens his eyes to see...nothing. It's gone. Winston whimpers at him.
Will brings his hand up and curls his fingers in, noting that the deep scratches might've been his own nails. He sighs and smacks the floor with one hand in frustration. ]
Sorry, Winston. I know. It's...it's okay now. C'mere.
[ He's going to be on the floor for awhile. ]