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 Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 2:42 pm
Now, Billy had specifically remembered falling asleep nestled comfortably between the rocks of his "Home" near the shore of the lake, and so when he awoke that morning several yards away in a jumped mess, he knew something was suspicious. It wasn't untill he felt the sting of the wound of what remained of his arm did matters really click into place.
Either it was a rather rediculously large, possibly islander-borne masquito or an injection ******** in the wee hours of the morning at the lake, William's instinctive reaction was panic. This was it! This was it, any moment now, any time now, it would get *worse*. Worse than this? How could he change again? s**t, he wanted a cigarette. He had been out, and without access to the labs, nor a desire to contact them, he supposed he would remain out. Unless Sid came along with a fresh carton? Maybe? Hopefully? Did he WANT a friend to come by just then? Did he want anyone to see?
The morning was filled with muddled trains of thought that ranged from panic, to morbid curiosity, to sorrow. How many injections were there? How much more could he change? Would he end up just another cepholopod by the end? He had heard about what had become to Pyroth, and his stomach was detirmined to keep it's knots.
By that afternoon, his head had begun to pound. He felt feaverish and sweaty, although it was difficult to tell if that was just his damp octopus skin or real sweat. Could octopi even sweat? s**t, he couldn't think. His head was pounding too terribly. The water seemed too cold, icy against his hot flesh, and he crawled sorely to the shore to weaze and try to sleep off the spinning in his head curled in a ball of limbs on the grass beside his wheelchair.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 2:51 pm
Sid was a little surprised to wake up in the middle of the afternoon. He'd been hoping for later, but lately it seemed he was either strung out on something or passed out entirely. His head ached, the lights seemed brighter than usual, and yet the typewriter was there, across the room, taunting him. No way could he write like this, though he was increasingly discovering that he apparently couldn't write in any state of mind.
Maybe LSD had been the secret of his creativity after all. Good luck asking for that. He was running out of painkillers, which made him regret graciously handing one out to the snake boy, but thanks to his late night trips to the beach bar he still had plenty of alcohol.
"Hair of the dog," he muttered, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the fridge. That'd wake him up. When he felt a little less like he was half dead, he fished his sunglasses out from under a few discarded clothes and stepped out into the horrible, horrible light of day. The thought that maybe he should try his hand at fishing led him to go to the lake instead of the cafeteria. Surprisingly enough, he'd barely touched the tequila by the time he reached the lake. He'd forgotten how much he hated the stuff.
Once he saw Billy curled up in the grass he picked up the pace a little... he really wasn't eager to see what running did to his lingering headache.
"You okay man?" Stupid question, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:07 pm
Sid's voice only bearly penitrated the ringing in Billy's nonexistant ears, and he dimly lifted his head, waking from the nap Sid had caught him in. He didn't know how long he had been sleeping, but it had taken him forever and a half to try to ignore the throbbing headache. By the time he woke, though, it seemed to have gotten worse. His coloration had splotched from it's average blueish lavender to a sickly greyish white. His spiny growths twitched as he concentrated on the fish-man approaching him, "Wha'?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:19 pm
"You look like death," Sid said, ever the helpful one. Realizing how that must sound, he offered his free hand to try and help drag Billy to the water. Maybe it was all simply of mater of having dried out, or something. He could hope.
"What'd you do?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:30 pm
What'd he do? At that, Billy gave a low giggle that turned into a slightly manic chuckle, violet eyes swiveling up over Sid. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, his eyes dialated and as he moved, a few stray but visible white hairs drifted to the grass, "Wha'd'any o' us do, eh?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:44 pm
"Oh..." The hairs clued Sid in to what was happening. "Oh s**t." He could be wrong, it could just be hair loss, but then... He looked down at the bottle of tequila. Billy likely needed it more than he did, though he had a feeling his own headache was only going to get worse. He held the bottle out to the octopus. "Here."
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:52 pm
Billy blinked at it, taking a few moments to focus on it enough to be able to read the label befor he raised a stiff, twitching tentacle. All of his various entangled limbs seemed to be trembling. They ached, they pulsed, as though readying themselves for the inevitable. After several false starts, he finally managed to wind a tentacle tip around the neck and urge it from Sid's grip. The bottle seemed too heavy for him just then, though, and it plumeted the short way down to the grass, his grip still tight on it. "M'no'... m'no sure if... y'wanna stay fer this," He murmured in a gruff voice. Billy was terrified, his insides quaking and trembling as much as his sore limbs. And the headache was getting wose. He drew in as deep a breath as he could, "D'y'... d'y'go' any... any cigarettes? I jes'... if me lungs go... I wan'... I want t'have one las' smoke..."
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 3:58 pm
"Uh..." Sid patted his pockets, and the noise of crumpled foil from the left showed him where he'd lost that last pack of his. He pulled it the pack of Lucky strikes, finding two left. "Gonna have to ask for more." He said to himself. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask for, and very few he could justify getting unless he admitted he had something of a problem. He went to Billy's bag for the matches, trying to keep himself focused on the simple task of lighting the cigarette. He didn't want to see, of course he didn't. At least with Thom it had been so slow he'd been able to slip away. He couldn't do that this time, not when he and Billy where supposed to be friends. He lit the second cigarette with the smoldering end of the first, as it suddenly hit him that he was really going to need something.
"I'll hang around," he said, holding out the first cigarette to Billy. It was probably a good thing he hadn't eaten yet, even if his mouth still tasted like something had curled inside it and died during the night.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:03 pm
It was his first smoke in days, and he shifted to sit as upright as possible, leaning against the wheel of his chair. "Thanks, man... y'go'... no idea," Billy shook his head, attempting to regulate his breathing as best he could while smoke at the same time. His head still pounded, and with each movement it seemed more and thicker locks lost their grip to flutter down to his shoulders and coils.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:09 pm
Sid took a long drag off his own cigarette, but it did nothing to steady his nerves. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to see it, and it was stupid of him to venture out during the day. The desire to find a dark place to crawl into had never bugged him quite as intensely before. He didn't dare mention the hair falling out, instead he found himself babbling about the weather.
"I guess this is what counts as cold here, huh?" he asked, glancing up at the scary and the scattered clouds peacefully drifting up ahead. Too bright, it was all too damn bright. He looked away.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:13 pm
"I sup... I sup...." Billy's eyes scrunched shut, the spines from his head were trembling and twitching as it seemed the flesh under the rabidly thinning hair was swelling. "Aaah.. I s'pose..." He weazed, nearly dropping his cigarette as he grabbed a hold of the wheel of his chair for support, "Feckin'... bollocks bollocks bloody... Go' damn..."
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:16 pm
"Yeah..." Sid said. Careful not to disturb Billy, he bent down and grabbed the bottle from the ground. No sense letting that go to waste. Alternating smoking and drinking seemed to be the best way to pass the time. He tried to think of something stupid and reassuring to say, but being told it'd all be over soon would only piss him off if he was in that situation. Instead he took a pull off the bottle and winced.
It did help a little.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:20 pm
Billy lost his balance as he was blinded by another wave of pain, this time sending his insides physically crawling. He hung from his trembling grip for a moment befor flopping on the ground on his side, limbs wrything like so many snakes all trying to find some way to stop the pain. He gave a short muffled cry, swallowing thickly, "I don'... feckin'... shite... how coul'... how much worse coul'... coul' it get?" His eyes were streaming and his voice had lost it's nonchalant cool, high, wavering and cracking in his anxiety. "Who... who bloody decided... a Go'damn... feckin' octopus? Who's... bloody brilliant... idear was it.... ? I swear.. I'll feckin'...!"
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:24 pm
"Just let go, man," Sid said. It was hard not to stare at all the writing tentacles. After a few seconds he shook his head and looked away again, towards the water. "It's the last time, right? You're better of than me for that." He took another drink, then offered the bottle out again. "If you want I could... Uh, well... Up to you."
He couldn't even say he could help him drink.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 4:28 pm
Billy raised a weak, trembling tentacle, his voice a high moan, "Gimme' th'god damn bottle, y'old b*****d!" Last change? How many had there been... three changes so far, right? In the cafeteria... with aubrey that one time... and then when he got stranded outside that night.... His insides crawled and his mouth opened wide in a silent dry-heave.
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