VOICE TEST

[deafens]

VOICE TESTING; GAMES EDITION




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[saints]

[ He's not breathing.

The minute he opens his eyes, he isn't breathing, he's choking, and he's fucking upside down and upended and the moment his consciousness returns to him he's spat out onto the floor coated in a stubstance that he can only describe as what ectoplasm used to feel like on the tips of his mother's fingers, running out of her nose after a particularly difficult spell. He's sprawled out on the floor, slapped hard onto it and the first thing he thinks is cold, I'm so fucking cold. ]

Fuck this--fuck!

[ He manages out before there's someone dropping to their knees and he's trying to shift onto his back--screw being naked. There's a hand on his, a familiar voice,and he's looking at Nic's eyes and her hair clinging to her face with the same goop that he's coated in. He takes the heel of his hand and wipes it over his mouth, slicks back his hair that's falling into his yes and he's trying not to cough and sputter more.

He's already balls out on the floor and any attempt to dig his heels in has just gotten him looking like a slippery fish on a dock trying to escape a gutting. ]

Nic--what the fuck...[ he eyeballs her to make sure she's not some dream, maybe even digs his fingers into her skin a little bit. Not a dream? Might be a dream? A really convincing one? We'll find out. He swallows and it tastes bitter, like bile. He bites down on his tongue a minute, feeling the rattle through his teeth because there's a breeze slipping in through the shattered window of... whatever this place is, all metal and tubes. He grabs onto her a little more, and maybe drags himself a little into a sitting position. Standing seems dangerous. ] Please tell me we're... [ he trails off, but this is totally not real, right?



He might need a towel. ]

[deafens]

[ he definitely needs a towel, but nic's a little preoccupied with making sure he's definitely not dying right now, and her courtesies went out of the window in the mean time. one hand clings to his, fingers digging in comfort and reassurance and maybe a little bit of stress as the other hand gets to work. ]

We're not high. [ she tries to sound decisive as she says it, but her voice shakes too much and she just looks worried as she checks his pulse, and rather invasively holds open one of his eyes to stare into them for a moment (watching his pupils dilate, not that she's told him that much) and tugs open his mouth to check for goop with no apology whatsoever.

she's satisfied that he's not immediately in threat of dying though, and somewhat relaxes as she squeezes his hand again. ] I have no fucking clue whats going on.

[ the admission is rough, and she looks around them for a moment before her eyes fall back to tris - and oh yeah, towel or something might be nice. she quickly reaches out for one of the other ones she found, slightly more torn up and damaged than hers, but it'll have to do. she'd make some joke about there not being much to cover up, but well- it's not quite the right time for it. ] Are you alright?

[saints]

[ She's got fingers peeling his eyes open, pushing his mouth wide and he coughs--enough that okay, maybe it doesn't some good and he yanks his head away so he can spit whatever comes out onto the floor. Her hand his squeezing hard enough that he's pretty sure he's going to be feeling that for days, but all the same, he squeezes back. He's making sure that there's nothing left, coughing to both get the taste out of his mouth and to enjoy the rush of his rapidly filling lungs, still greedy for air. ]

I like air. And breathing.

[ He says it more to himself than to her and he keeps a hand in hers while grabbing the towel from her and starting to mop up the mess where it's stickiest--his chest, his stomach, further down. Everything's fucking cold and he just wants to get clean again, but right now this'll have to do.

When he finally lets go of her hand, it's with a long squeeze himself. He needs to clean up more and tuck whatever's left of the towel around him so he can get at least a little traction when he sits up okay. He looks at her now, a little clearer, breathing more evenly now. ]

Been better... had worse hangovers, though.

[ He pulls her in, and whatever if it's still a little sticky, he's going to hug her anyways. ]

'Bout you? You okay?