Radar gasps, whirling around. Squinting doesn't do a darn thing in a darkness this absolute, but he squints anyway, puts out a hand like he's fumbling toward the latrine during a blackout. The music warps around his head and tunnels through his ears. It's so distorted that it's no help at all -- he thinks he's going to put his foot down in one spot, and stumbles suddenly when his foot doesn't connect with the floor for another three inches.
goodnight, i rene goodnight ʇɥƃıupooƃ 'ǝuǝɹı 'ʇɥƃıupooƃ
Where does he go? Who's following who?
Where do you want to be? Fever murmurs in his memory.
He doesn't know any of it yet. Radar tries to listen, head spinning with each sideways yank of the dials, before he squares his shoulders and wobbles toward what he thinks is the sound of laughter.
no subject
goodnight, i rene goodnight
ʇɥƃıupooƃ 'ǝuǝɹı 'ʇɥƃıupooƃ
Where does he go? Who's following who?
Where do you want to be? Fever murmurs in his memory.
He doesn't know any of it yet. Radar tries to listen, head spinning with each sideways yank of the dials, before he squares his shoulders and wobbles toward what he thinks is the sound of laughter.