[Husk passes his phone a cursory glance when it buzzes, telling him he has a new message. Maybe it's Flins with some nonsense, or Zevran asking him stupid questions about a porno he saw. Usual traffic he sees. He doesn't recognise the username, immediately, doesn't think much of it. He idly clicks it open and-
The userpic makes him stop dead. He looks at the picture. At the username. Those two things together make a horrible, nasty picture that makes his blood run ice cold.
No. No. Absolutely fucking not.
This has to be a trick. Or... some bullshit with the city. He's hallucinated Alastor before. This is probably that. It has to be that. It's just... it's just this fuckass city messing with his head again.]
I don't want any. Fuck off. I ain't doing this seeing stuff bullshit today.
[He closes the message. Puts his phone down. He steps away from it. He leaves it there for about five minutes. Before he checks it again. The message is still there. Alastor is showing as an actual contact on the app. Real as anyone else he's talked to on here.
No. This cannot be real. But it looks so very fucking real. He can feel panic starting to grip his chest, an icy claw settling against his lungs and squeezing tight. He tries to take a breath in but air's not getting in so good.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Decades worth of horrible, truamtic reminders come crashing in, telling him this might actually be real and if it is, he's fucked. He JUST talked about this with his family. It can't be happening. He's finally been able to start to build something out of his miserable life and now- ]
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Date: 2025-12-20 03:22 am (UTC)The userpic makes him stop dead. He looks at the picture. At the username. Those two things together make a horrible, nasty picture that makes his blood run ice cold.
No. No. Absolutely fucking not.
This has to be a trick. Or... some bullshit with the city. He's hallucinated Alastor before. This is probably that. It has to be that. It's just... it's just this fuckass city messing with his head again.]
I don't want any. Fuck off. I ain't doing this seeing stuff bullshit today.
[He closes the message. Puts his phone down. He steps away from it. He leaves it there for about five minutes. Before he checks it again. The message is still there. Alastor is showing as an actual contact on the app. Real as anyone else he's talked to on here.
No. This cannot be real. But it looks so very fucking real. He can feel panic starting to grip his chest, an icy claw settling against his lungs and squeezing tight. He tries to take a breath in but air's not getting in so good.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Decades worth of horrible, truamtic reminders come crashing in, telling him this might actually be real and if it is, he's fucked. He JUST talked about this with his family. It can't be happening. He's finally been able to start to build something out of his miserable life and now- ]
No. You can't BE here.