livesarock: (Default)
Zelgadis Greywords: forever a stone ([personal profile] livesarock) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2011-11-09 11:48 pm

one more shifty, slightly leveled field of communication

WHO: [livejournal.com profile] trueltning_fury and [livejournal.com profile] inthirds (who is cured)
WHERE: MAC
WHEN: Way super early 11/10
WARNINGS: MANLY TEARSno idk nobody dies at least
SUMMARY: Hey old man it's me, the pal you carved up like a week ago!
FORMAT: No



He could've just fallen asleep right where he was so easily had his mind not wandered back to his first contacts. It hit him like a knife in the back, causing him to start a little, though hardly much to disturb the sleeper curled up on him.

It had been well more than an hour, hadn't it? Not even a day back, already falling behind...

Further still, as it took a length of time to free himself and slink down the hallways. Barefoot, still feeling like he was stuck in a surreal dream...feeling his footfalls. Coarse carpeting. Cold, concrete steps in the stairwell. He was in danger of a sensory overload nearly every time he changed places. Goose pimples to go with the anxious knots in his stomach...how long since that was ever a thing?

Zelgadis wound up staring at the appropriate door longer than need be. He wasn't completely lost; he knew he had the right one. But the correspondence left him with uncertain footing, so to speak. And the disturbing remarks of that Goku person only gave his mind ample opportunity to draw the most unsavory conclusions. What had happened, and did he even want to know?

One way or the other, though, he had to knock. Four muted raps by the backs of his knuckles, drawn away as quick as they were brought forward. The notion that the hour was a little unreasonable had only just struck. Perhaps he ought to just go back upstairs––
trueltning_fury: (asleep)

[personal profile] trueltning_fury 2011-11-10 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
"Come in."

Geddoe was still awake, as he rarely kept a normal schedule no matter what. And, thanks to decades of keeping watch at campfires overnight, he had developed a habit of sleeping light. Either way, he was home and not passed out. Out of armor, even, wearing one of the sweatshirts Zatanna had foisted on him a year prior.

There was a lot on his mind, but none of it was coalescing into clear thought. He knew he and Zelgadis needed to face one another, but he didn't know what would come of it.