It's routine now. Gale doesn't even have to be exposed to direct sunlight; like clockwork, around 5 a.m. the blackened fever starts, and by 9 p.m. it recedes. So, for those sixteen hours of the average summer day, he doesn't so much as leave his bed. His blood pumps along at a toasty 106 degrees Fahrenheit. He doesn't have the luxury of sleeping through it, either; he tosses and turns, all the while trying to sort out reality and very convincing delirium.

Nearby ears will be privy to a whole litany of anxious nonsense: "Why did they move me here? Does she know I'm here? . . . I need to talk to her. Why hasn't she come yet? I think I've figured it out, but . . . need to hurry. Hurry."

Perhaps more curious is his seemingly random and absolute refusal to move his hands. The joints of his fingers are perpetually locked.

"Not yet. I can't go yet." He says this again and again to his stiff palms.

A late entry for that DMOOC prompt.

( Album Graphic/Lyrics Snippets/LinkCollapse )

Fandom: SMT: DDS
Characters: Prithivi (Argilla)
Prompt: 053. Earth
Word Count: N/A
Rating: PG, for fangorious boobs
Summary: Prithivi being earthy.
Author's Note: More like generic DDS fan art and not exactly Gale, but hey. Also, more practice with lighting.

( EarthCollapse )

Fandom: SMT: DDS
Characters: Gale, mysterious children
Prompt: 028. Children
Word Count: N/A
Rating: G
Summary: One day, Gale will breed.
Author's Note: Quicksketch. The baby has a big head. Full of BRAINS no doubt. :V

( ChildrenCollapse )

Sleep doesn't come easy, even though this is the first time he's had the chance to completely let go and sink into it. When it does finally take him, his dreams are vivid. Hundreds upon hundreds of flashing neurons make the connections to these moments that his eyes ( never saw.Collapse )

Oh, oh. So I seem to be running out of both paid account time and extra icon time aaaand I'm slightly broke, so . . .

Who wants art in return for a little account love? Two months, six months? Anything?

You name it -- RP character art, WoW character art, icon fodder, whatever (with the sole exception of smut.)

Gale did not expect it to be raining. Weather proceeds as usual, apparently, even if life does not. Through the wet smack of raindrops, he can barely hear the sea breathing a few blocks away. The dust from the millions of bodies, trees, plants, and animals seeded the clouds and dragged down moisture from the sea. The precipitation has turned the collected dust in the streets to silt, and the combined meteorological forces have long since smoothed the features of the petrified crowds into anonymous, mannequin faces.

This is not Portland, though. This could be any number of coastal cities, but signs and posters confirm they are in Seattle, Washington. Brick buildings with early 20th century facades line the streets. Petrified trees, tall enough to rival the buildings, stand in a cobbled square. Most of their limbs have self-amputated by their own weight.

He releases Argilla's hand, taken for teleportation. "PINpoint malfunction," he mutters with the barest note of exasperation; between Atma symptoms and at least two missing persons, his patience with fate and its twists has been flagging in the past few months.

A definite kink in their plans. A dangerous kink, actually. It'll take time to find a portal to a world with uninterrupted dimensional travel, and it doesn't take nearly as much time for starving tuners to locate fresh prey.

(( OOC note: Reference images linked throughout this post were GIS'd. Apologies to their original photographers on the slim chance they should find them. ))

He's never known exactly how she speaks to the city, so he isn't certain this will work, but he leaves the notes anyway; folded scraps of papers in the chinks between the bricks of old walls, slipped in drainage grates, coin slots in derelict pay phones.

I miss you.

I love you.

He leaves at least one every time he takes a walk, and prays the city will deliver his message.

It doesn't hurt to try.

Sweet mother of mercy, I'm so bad. :(

School, the search for income, and endeavors aimed at post-collegiate success have consumed the better part of my life; I just don't have the time or inspiration. That said, I'm going to have to put Gale on the shelf for the time being.

I have no idea what the IC explanation for Gale's sudden non-presence will be, so I'd like to present the opportunity to settle this in the most democratic means available: a poll. B|



P.S. You can keep up with my RL shenanigans on pseudobiotic.