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logsinthenight2020-01-22 08:27 pm
lunchbreaks) wrote in logsinthenight2020-01-22 08:27 pm
Entry tags:
just as the morning became us // closed
characters: Az and Cas
location: Cas's place
date/time: End of the month
content: Turn out the lights
warnings: Extreme angel body horror. Trypophobia x 1000
At first, he thought it was just a pockmark or some sort of wound, boring into his skin. A mole, a freckle, something like that. He ignored it. Then, he'd had an excessive amount of white hairs growing out of his ankles, which was odd and frankly a little embarrassing, but he marched down to the general store to pick up a razor and that was that.
Looking at himself in the mirror this morning, he opens his mouth to inspect his teeth, and notices an odd cut on his neck. He runs his finger over it only to have it split open, and just when he thinks it will spill white pus all over his sink, it instead lolls into place as if waking from sleep, an eye as wide and blue as the two on his face.
In fact, some of his other eyes begin to open, eyes that he hadn't seen (and that hadn't seen) in a very long time.
"Oh, no."
Opening the window to his bathroom, he doesn't wish to alarm neither Crowley nor The Soldier, so once he pokes his head outside, he resolves to climb through and fly out of it, making his way towards the only other person he can even trust to look at him at the moment. In the meantime, he draws his collar up as if to hide himself, covers a few parts of his face with his hands, and wonders if his shoes have been tied on oddly or if his toes might suddenly become hooves.
This is not good. This is not good at all.
"Cassiel!" he nearly hisses, at a bedroom window. He doesn't know whose it is, but he thinks that it might be safer than going through the front. He ducks behind a shutter and taps the glass. "Is Cassiel there, please?"
location: Cas's place
date/time: End of the month
content: Turn out the lights
warnings: Extreme angel body horror. Trypophobia x 1000
At first, he thought it was just a pockmark or some sort of wound, boring into his skin. A mole, a freckle, something like that. He ignored it. Then, he'd had an excessive amount of white hairs growing out of his ankles, which was odd and frankly a little embarrassing, but he marched down to the general store to pick up a razor and that was that.
Looking at himself in the mirror this morning, he opens his mouth to inspect his teeth, and notices an odd cut on his neck. He runs his finger over it only to have it split open, and just when he thinks it will spill white pus all over his sink, it instead lolls into place as if waking from sleep, an eye as wide and blue as the two on his face.
In fact, some of his other eyes begin to open, eyes that he hadn't seen (and that hadn't seen) in a very long time.
"Oh, no."
Opening the window to his bathroom, he doesn't wish to alarm neither Crowley nor The Soldier, so once he pokes his head outside, he resolves to climb through and fly out of it, making his way towards the only other person he can even trust to look at him at the moment. In the meantime, he draws his collar up as if to hide himself, covers a few parts of his face with his hands, and wonders if his shoes have been tied on oddly or if his toes might suddenly become hooves.
This is not good. This is not good at all.
"Cassiel!" he nearly hisses, at a bedroom window. He doesn't know whose it is, but he thinks that it might be safer than going through the front. He ducks behind a shutter and taps the glass. "Is Cassiel there, please?"
no subject
[ And he takes his wings out as well, brilliant and white. ]
But I know the humans won't go mad if they see these.
[ He has shown them to humans before. ]
We should. Stay close until we-- ahh--
[ His eyes grow restless underneath his skin, and fracture lines split, revealing regular blue irises. ]
--Drats, they're usually golden and glowing.