Yuuya Sakazaki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
espigeonage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lukeoutbelow2015-01-11 09:22 pm
espigeonage) wrote in lukeoutbelow2015-01-11 09:22 pm
(no subject)
Julien had been feeling unwell for a couple of days. He'd spent all of yesterday in, doing nothing much but sleep and eat, feeling hungry almost constantly. Putting away the detritus left behind by that seemed unusually difficult. He had to leave some wrappers where they lay, and couldn't focus to cook, and that thing kept happening, where it was like he couldn't remember how to move his face, and somehow his resting expression was a Mona Lisa look.
He'd wanted to think he was just sick. It didn't happen much at all, his body wasn't used to it. But on some level, he knew. It was in the occasional paralysis of his face, and the thick warm feeling in his sternum, and the way both his hips clicked when he stood up.
So in a way it wasn't a surprise when he woke and that feeling was pressing out, hot and throbbing and painful, getting worse as he pressed his wing against his chest. It was a surprise when he tried to get up, and fell. He'd wanted, when he thought about this day coming, to do it alone, but he couldn't manage to heat water or pick athelas. It hurt. Eventually he couldn't take it. He had to call for help.
He'd wanted to think he was just sick. It didn't happen much at all, his body wasn't used to it. But on some level, he knew. It was in the occasional paralysis of his face, and the thick warm feeling in his sternum, and the way both his hips clicked when he stood up.
So in a way it wasn't a surprise when he woke and that feeling was pressing out, hot and throbbing and painful, getting worse as he pressed his wing against his chest. It was a surprise when he tried to get up, and fell. He'd wanted, when he thought about this day coming, to do it alone, but he couldn't manage to heat water or pick athelas. It hurt. Eventually he couldn't take it. He had to call for help.
no subject
A few things are left. His wings are wings, with slender hard limbs under all the feathers, not distorted human arms, yet a tighter slimmer thumb and index finger poke out near the allula. Obviously he's able to cry. Despite its shape his tongue is still covered in bumpy papillae. Some of the structure of his jaw is the sa- similar, if felt through the feathers. It would take some feeling. Feathers pad his skin out quite a lot, especially fluffed up like this. And so on.
His fingers twitch and his wings move a little across the floor, half folding but drooping against it, and stop. Sadly what brings Julien to stir, some time after things have stopped moving, is actually the way tears that didn't make it out of his eyes collect uncomfortably. His nasal passages don't drain into the back of his throat, they drain through the hole in the roof of his mouth. He may be able to cry, but he isn't built so that long periods of it are comfortable or dignified.
Julien shivers and abruptly pulls his head away, curving on a too-flexible neck to a right angle, before turning his head and opening his beak so a few spoonfuls of clear slightly thickened fluid spills out onto the floor. Then he opens his eyes, or at least the one facing up. He's not sure how to move his head.