Casualty of Migration

[eternalhost7.livejournal.com]

~It's surprising how losing your hair suddenly makes you realise how vain you once were. As the final clump comes out in his hand (rather be bald than have a stupid-looking fringe) and his skin start splitting along its newly-healed seams he briefly considers lying back and letting whatever else is in this Level take him. But escape is necessary and he won't let a little thing like being too weak to breathe stop him. God he was glad he wasn't with anyone right now. If anybody saw what was happening... downstairs... they'd never take him seriously again.

Making it through Seven had been difficult and his feet were nearly bloody stumps from all the sharp garbage, but pain was something he had gotten used to. The dull heart-wrenching ache was worse than a stabbing- at least that would have been something he could appreciate- and he had wanted to tear off his own feet to stop it, but gritty resolve won out and he had made it to Six, wearing nothing but a threadbare smock and linen trousers, found among the sewage of the lower level.

The first thing he does upon arrival is sear his own feet on one of the more hidden bulls- anything to distract from their pain and the nausea and the general brain-freezing depression of suffering through a Hell worse than anything he did to his boys. It's pretty much all his body can stand and he crumples against a wall, allowing himself an unhappy groan. His insects crawl over his body as if he were already a corpse and he doesn't bother to slap them away; like a dying wildebeest.~

Comments

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*the wagon isn't a very impressive thing - it's rusted nearly solid and it's missing a wheel - but it's better than walking, at least for Barty, whose curled up inside after calling immediate dibs, resigning his best and only friend to drag it along*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*they have moved impossibly slowly since they found the cart, Regulus is the only one who would agree to pull Barty (mostly because Barty's stubbornness made Regulus' options either a) pull, or b)leave Barty behind) but he also happens to be the world's worst candidate for this sort of activity, they come into view and there Regulus is at the front of the cart, leaned forward trying to create some leverage but when you are damned to eternal suffering in the body of a starved teenaged boy leverage is rather difficult to come by*

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty rolls onto his back in the cart, watching the flesh over Reg's spine split*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*mutters something vaguely threatening, leaning comically forward - the cart doesn't budge*

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty sits up, looking over the side of the wagon curiously, there's nothing blocking the wheels other than the wheels themselves, which are dreadfully reluctant to turn*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Just so you are aware, this is a terrible, awful way to spend the day.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty's voice is still as hoarse as ever, he's certainly ruined it for the time being*

You suffer for the Greater Good.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

That's a horrible lie.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty looks wounded*

I've never been anything but honest with you.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

I'll be honest in return: wouldn't you say that it has been quite a long time since you've walked?

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Fortunately.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

I like it when you walk.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

I can't when my footflesh is peeling. At least you found some shoes. *indicates the scraps strapped to Reg's feet - a very loose definition of shoe*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Yes well they pinch.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Well I offered to make them out of those dead lizard things we found. You refused. They were oozy, not pinchy.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Oozy is never preferable.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Then you've forfeited your right to complain.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

You can't say that until you've had to wear pinchy shoes.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

And you can't say anything until your feet are bony, blackened horrors.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

I would much prefer to have horrorfeet and ride in a cart than have feet nearly as bad and have to pull this thing. It won't move, Barty.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*crosses his arms* Then we wont move.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

I am pulling, I am.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty pauses to retch over the side and the entire cart gives a threatening metallic moan*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*Regulus looks away to avoid a chain reaction sort of situation, he's vomited pinkish fluid onto the pavestones enough times without being egged on by Barty*

[eternalhost7.livejournal.com]

*Andrew looks up with difficulty at the comical, surprisingly goofy conversation. Humour? In this place? Surely not. It's enough to almost make him crack a smile. Small miracles can be a blessing.

He pulls himself up in an attempt at greeting, despite how much it hurts.*

Do you need any assistance at all?

*His eyes quickly flit over the two men, and linger just slightly longer on Regulus. Young, attractive (or would be under different circumstances), and certainly submissive from what he can see. Maybe old habits needn't die hard after all.*