At the very least, she should get to know her powers a bit better. She first tests how quickly she can jump between her ethereal and physical forms.
As soon as you activate your power, time seems to stop entirely and without delay. Well, you think. It's probably a delay like there's a delay between the moment somebody claps their hands in front of your face and the moment your brain registers the sound and the urgent need to slap them across the mouth for being an idiot.
The way back, though, is a little more arduous - it takes a moment to push yourself back into your body, about two or so seconds is your record lowest, you think. So that kind of kills the idea of watching anybody's keystrokes to determine their passwords, or at least makes it highly difficult to do so.
After another half hour of struggling to exhaustion, the reality of her new situation hit her and hit her hard. She was going to die down here, dehydrated, alone, to slowly decay and die. Rescue at this point was slim to none, no one was looking for her... maybe her family would be happy atleast, their daughter back no matter what they had to do to get her clone to adapt and become their daughter again...
"...Why can't it just end now..." Selina shook, silently crying again. She wished she could atleast curl up and die right then. Now? She was left to wallow in fear as her death approached.
Even if she did by cruel twist of fate live through this, she knew she'd never be able to go back. She had let something dark and without morals take her, and she had little hope that her coming back now would end that. This was her final suffering, to rot and die in the next few days. Slowly she let the darkness take her, almost blissfully going into unconsciousness and hoping sleep would end her.
((No I did not forget to color the text... And if there was a hint in there somewhere of what I was supposed to do, its gone over my head))
Your psychotic episode expiring less abruptly than it began, you start losing hope once more. You lose more of it than you ever thought you had in the first place, finding yourself in what feels like the absolute low point of this entire experience. You have lost, to put it simply. Lost everything. And now you're going to die. Knowing this, you make the conscious effort to fall asleep, but sleep does not come for two more grueling hours as you lie on the table, your life gone wrong on such a basic level that you may never return to what once was.
But fortunately for you, the body of a human being can only take so much melodrama, and fall into sleep you do. It is a short and troubled sleep, plagued by thoughts of death and, what's worse, isolation. You have no dreams, but you may have slept for a while, not that it's easy to tell right now.
What you can sense is that you are definitely different in some way now. You feel filthy, and rather strange, and when you look at your body, you can vaguely perceive a shiny layer of some kind. It feels odd, liquid. Like thick, congealed sweat forming a second skin all over your body.
"Yo Dad! Give me stuff!"
"Oh hey Son! Come on in! You should have called I would have made something. I barely see you."
"I know Dad. Sorry. Can I have some tools. I need them for science."
"Sure thing bud. Need some help?"
"No Dad! I'm fine. Okaythanksbye!"
To the scrapyard! (After dropping the tools off at home.)
The scrapyard proves rather handy for your interests, as there is scrap. It is inexpensive. And there is quite a lot of it. And the owner of the place seems like a man not nearly as unpleasant as your dear old Dad.
Irritated by the stores lack of variety Steven leaves the store and drives home.
Grabbing his Jacket out of his wardrobe steven throws it onto his bed before he immediately sits down at his computer and orders the correct mask online, with that complete he then sets to work making the back holster for his mask.
Since retail has failed you once again, that leaves but the Internet! Soon you have a whole lot of vintage hockey masks, Jason Voorhees outfit elements and everything in between available to you, and you select a fiberglass mask that meets your standards of quality versus expense. Well, you think. It's hard to tell from just a picture, but you think it'll work, although you wonder if perhaps a proper helmet would not have been a wiser purchase.
At any rate, you make a pouch on the back of one of your cooler leather jackets to keep your hockey mask in. You're not exactly known for your exceptional needlework, but you're not completely awful either (after all, you can fix your own shoes to save up on money to a point, at least). And so you have your pouch. Now all you need to do is wait for the mask to arrive. Shouldn't be more than a week, should it?
Missed me.
Ow. Damn it, what the hell! Why the hell did this happen when the last time I only felt the effects of injuries I had before? I mean, I got hit by a door and walked through acid and lightning last time and it didn't affect me. How the hell does this power even work? Jake thinks to himself, frustrated as he realizes he still has no idea how his power works other than how to activate it. He lays there for a while, trying to figure out anything else he could about his power and trying to recover enough to make his way back to the hotel or a hospital to get his fingers splinted.
You do recover after a few moments - your hand hurts. A lot. And you still have no idea how your power works, aside from the way it seems to hit you with injuries after a while. Not random ones, either. And you do get a bit of a bad feeling before they occur.
So you move along to a hospital, where you get your broken fingers splinted, returning to the hotel afterwards to rest your poor, abused body. While you may be out of direct danger, it seems that you cannot quite keep yourself away from injury. Your father, probably not really paying that much attention, does not notice that you are traumatized when he finally arrives back at the hotel room.
Alex would vigorously shake his head sideways.
She seems a bit relieved before she realizes that this is probably also a terrible thing nevertheless.
"Uhm, are the people who, well, did this to you, are they still around?" she asks nervously.
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Topic: Worm: Edwardstown (Read 135592 times)