Nightshift 50: West of the Institute
[Dropping in from here]
If his legs had been pained before, they were officially screaming now, hurt jolting from his heels into his knees the moment he landed and forcing him to stay crouched on the ground as it faded away. It wouldn't have been as bad if it weren't for the night before (why had he flown off the handle like that?! He wasn't supposed to give into his emotions. He wasn't supposed to have any), the memories of which still dancing in the back of his mind. Not that it mattered. Last night didn't matter - all that mattered was this one and the fact that he get up.
One hand pressed against the wall, he pushed himself away from the ground, the other hand pulling up the thrown cue from its spot on the gravel. It was rockier here than he'd imagined, the grassy field he just left being deceptive as it was. Cue transferred to his left hand, the right groped in the dark for the radio and finding...
Well, a part of the radio. It had evidently shattered onto the rocks when he'd thrown it and shattered messily at that, its mechanical wires strewn across the ground like colorful, bloodless entrails. Somehow, he had been expecting it to survive that toss over a seven-foot wall.
Oh well.
The pain continued to reverberate through his bones as he began to move again, leaving the shattered pieces of plastic where it was and taking off. Let it hurt. It'd be a reminder to not fail again. He couldn't fail this time.
[ Running off to here.]
If his legs had been pained before, they were officially screaming now, hurt jolting from his heels into his knees the moment he landed and forcing him to stay crouched on the ground as it faded away. It wouldn't have been as bad if it weren't for the night before (why had he flown off the handle like that?! He wasn't supposed to give into his emotions. He wasn't supposed to have any), the memories of which still dancing in the back of his mind. Not that it mattered. Last night didn't matter - all that mattered was this one and the fact that he get up.
One hand pressed against the wall, he pushed himself away from the ground, the other hand pulling up the thrown cue from its spot on the gravel. It was rockier here than he'd imagined, the grassy field he just left being deceptive as it was. Cue transferred to his left hand, the right groped in the dark for the radio and finding...
Well, a part of the radio. It had evidently shattered onto the rocks when he'd thrown it and shattered messily at that, its mechanical wires strewn across the ground like colorful, bloodless entrails. Somehow, he had been expecting it to survive that toss over a seven-foot wall.
Oh well.
The pain continued to reverberate through his bones as he began to move again, leaving the shattered pieces of plastic where it was and taking off. Let it hurt. It'd be a reminder to not fail again. He couldn't fail this time.
[ Running off to here.]