Owen Corley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cypher_can_fly) wrote2019-07-08 07:09 am
cypher_can_fly) wrote2019-07-08 07:09 am
Entry tags:
Room 201, Monday Morning
Owen had woken up sometime early this morning to a flurry of new inputs worse than preceding weeks, by far. It had taken him a while to settle into it, to process them, even if they made no sense at all. Then he'd fallen asleep. Again.
He woke up again at 7 AM sharp and his senses were blaring again. Whatever he was picking up on, it just wasn't making any sense, besides being bad and wrong and all the other lovely extras of these past weeks.
"Why does it feel like there's a Cataclysm rattling around my head?" he muttered, sitting up, rubbing at the short stubble of his hair.
Bloody hell, some weeks, he thought he should probably be putting in a bit more effort to leave this place.
[[ open ]]
He woke up again at 7 AM sharp and his senses were blaring again. Whatever he was picking up on, it just wasn't making any sense, besides being bad and wrong and all the other lovely extras of these past weeks.
"Why does it feel like there's a Cataclysm rattling around my head?" he muttered, sitting up, rubbing at the short stubble of his hair.
Bloody hell, some weeks, he thought he should probably be putting in a bit more effort to leave this place.
[[ open ]]