ic inbox

[secondhandsome]

Hey there, you've reached... um... me. Yeah. Leave a message!

Well, that sounded smoother in my head... Damn it.

Comments

[thedifferencebetween]

[It's weird, how burning flesh always smells like steaks on the grill. How messed up is that?]

[Jack's no stranger to burning skin. His other hand clamps over his double's mouth, stifling the much more intense screams that are pouring out of him. He hears the crackle of skin as it sears and crisps and dies under the metal. He watches the skin turn red and shiny at the edges. When he pulls the brand away, it's only been a matter of seconds, but it feels like he's been standing here forever, watching it take.]

[And there it is. Bright red and black and angry, oozing something sort of like blood. The skin is indented, swelling already, steaming. Yeah. That's it. There's his half-dead, damaged face.]

That's it. All done. You're all done now.

[secondhandsome]

[Tim's not sure when the screaming fades, but it does. The pain doesn't. It changes after the brand has been pulled away, but that's about it. There's no relief, nothing. He vaguely feels a pain somewhere in his throat too. Too much stress on his voice from the screaming...

Jack's saying something, but it's not reaching him again. Right now, he couldn't care less anyway.

So there's no response. Just more heavy, panicked breathing. Broken, not-quite sobs mixed between it. It hurts so goddamn much and his whole face feels so wrong. Even more wrong than it already does every day of his life.

Everything else around him starts coming a little more into focus now, even though the pain's still there. Which is just about the opposite of what he wants right now. He'd much rather just pass out.]