[Good evening, House 32. Your wayward hero has returned to you after his quiet vacation right off of his mortal coil, all expenses paid by the Dreadknight. Or rather, he has been returned, and is sitting propped neatly up against the front door with his also wayward boot in his lap.
How odd.
But closer inspection might explain it, as he seems to have somehow bruised all of his knuckles, as if he was punching walls for the last few hours. Or faces. Faces are always a possibility. If the Malnosso are keeping a file on him, it probably says, "CAUTION. Subject is violent and belligerent. Keep restrained or sedated at all times." It would also reveal that he is not unconscious. He's just... having a little trouble coming to terms with the way the ground is moving. So he reaches up and knocks on the door, softly at first, but if he has to keep trying, it'll get louder every few minutes as his arm stops feeling like Halgitian jelly.]
Edward. Edward.
[He's only sitting here until his legs remember that they have bones in them. He'll drag his own drugged ass into the house if need be, thanks.]
[Written, Some Hours Later // Private to Leonid]
I have returned, and you are still here. You can never be rid of me.
How odd.
But closer inspection might explain it, as he seems to have somehow bruised all of his knuckles, as if he was punching walls for the last few hours. Or faces. Faces are always a possibility. If the Malnosso are keeping a file on him, it probably says, "CAUTION. Subject is violent and belligerent. Keep restrained or sedated at all times." It would also reveal that he is not unconscious. He's just... having a little trouble coming to terms with the way the ground is moving. So he reaches up and knocks on the door, softly at first, but if he has to keep trying, it'll get louder every few minutes as his arm stops feeling like Halgitian jelly.]
Edward. Edward.
[He's only sitting here until his legs remember that they have bones in them. He'll drag his own drugged ass into the house if need be, thanks.]
[Written, Some Hours Later // Private to Leonid]
I have returned, and you are still here. You can never be rid of me.
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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I seem to be unharmed.
A glass of water. ...A sandwich. A new undershirt. A cool cloth.