heisrisen | Entries tagged with wretched excess

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[Note to Barbara]

How do you feel about neural surgery?

[It's attached to her gift: a sealed vial containing the slim filaments of synth hardware. He knows she'd love it; the real question is more along the lines of do you trust me enough.]

[Spam for Zane]

[A lazy morning in bed, tracing the ink on Zane's back, languid and contemplative.]

I've been thinking of getting something on my spine.

[Private to Iris]

I suppose time capsules make no sense to your people at all.

[Unless they do; unless they mean something else entirely.]

( Gift List )

[Spam, throughout the flood, open]

[He hates his room. (He loves his room). It's steeped with him, written on the lines in his hands with ink from his marrow. Backward and forward, things he's ripped up and things he's planted, it's his, and he can't stand to look at it. He can't settle in any of his usual places, so he roams, head ducked slightly, drifting like a ghost. He wobbles back and forth past the engine room like a magnet on a string, slings elliptically like a comet through the hallway on level five, repulsed by his frequent haunts in the library but drawn by spiraling folds of the thing in Iris's room, ranges in a scavenger's circles around the edges of the deck, feeling out the curving currents of his strange new sense of time. It is a breath of air, something to think about that has no traces of him in it.]

( Valentines for: Zane, Morgana, Bush, Iris, Sylvanas )