There are celestial beings in this building, even though giant metal cats with needles for fangs are prowling it too. This particular mind, sidling its reality against hers, it's different enough that consciousness and lucidity will have no choice but to surface, already a dark shape beneath, coming nearer. Right now, there's so much going on that gaining back control is temporarily just outside of her grasp, and the attempt to do is what confuses Xas's sense of geography and space.
The room bends, and the robot is right there, and for a second, he can feel the heat radiating from its body, a trick of sensation attributing warmth to the glow of red eyes on his face, and there is no specific part of his body that actually is pierced with the raking of the needle, but for a split second, he viscerally knows what that's like too--
The loudness of the discharging firearm to his right-- maybe-- seems to vibrate through reality, more felt than heard; the actual noise is almost muffled even as buckshot takes out the glow of red eyes. Glass sprays and sprinkles.
The floor breaks beneath him.
They need to be somewhere safe, and there is a split second of vertigo that Xas experiences, the robot coming down with him, the clash of swords and battle ringing in his ears. But then, he is falling to land somewhere else, and Benji, invisibly and intangibly, latches onto this. Xas will go somewhere only he knows, somewhere that is familiar. It does not have to be pretty, or appropriate, but a lack of robots and sword-having beings would be a start; he is used, for their own benefit, as a vehicle.
no subject
The room bends, and the robot is right there, and for a second, he can feel the heat radiating from its body, a trick of sensation attributing warmth to the glow of red eyes on his face, and there is no specific part of his body that actually is pierced with the raking of the needle, but for a split second, he viscerally knows what that's like too--
The loudness of the discharging firearm to his right-- maybe-- seems to vibrate through reality, more felt than heard; the actual noise is almost muffled even as buckshot takes out the glow of red eyes. Glass sprays and sprinkles.
The floor breaks beneath him.
They need to be somewhere safe, and there is a split second of vertigo that Xas experiences, the robot coming down with him, the clash of swords and battle ringing in his ears. But then, he is falling to land somewhere else, and Benji, invisibly and intangibly, latches onto this. Xas will go somewhere only he knows, somewhere that is familiar. It does not have to be pretty, or appropriate, but a lack of robots and sword-having beings would be a start; he is used, for their own benefit, as a vehicle.