[099] REX HAS ISSUES. // Text and Spam.
[Private to Nicolas]
I have a question for you: Did you ever drink from Armand?
[SPAM]
[Having just imbibed a ton of Armand's blood, Rex is, well. Healed. Normal. At least, temporarily. He knows the effects of it will wear off in no more than 24 hours. But he wants to enjoy it, the feeling of inhaling air into his lungs, exhaling easily. Simply breathing and being, all unassisted, without relying on a machine or the mercy of others. After being trapped in the TARDIS for so many hours, confined to the ship because he couldn't breathe anywhere else without his missing ventilator, Rex decides that he needs to be in open space before he goes insane. He leaves his room, even with his restored appearance.
He figures, if anybody asks, he'll claim to be Arthur. There's one benefit of having that useless twin. Still, he knows that it's a ruse he can't pull off to those who know him. He's thinner, more tired looking, his hair is too short... Luckily, it's dark on the deck right now, and he's thrown the hood of his jacket up over his head, covering his too-short-to-be-Arthur hair.
He stays near the deck railing, leaning over it a little, his arms wrapped back around his neck as he stares out. He feels sick; he wants to scream as loudly as he can into the cosmos, but what good would it do? He needs to escape. The nanomites are ready; he could do it any day now. He needs to run away before the Barge destroys him any further.
SO, go find a brooding little supervillain if you're on the deck.]
[OOC: SO, a cocktail of recent events and conversations has led to Rex having an identity crisis/near breakdown/WHATEVER. He's just... going to be a crazy, withdrawn mess for a while. But then he'll get over it and IDEALLY return to his former, villainous glory. But for now he's got a pretty nasty addiction to Armand's blood, which started when Armand tried to turn him and then was on hold while Armand was off the Barge.]
I have a question for you: Did you ever drink from Armand?
[SPAM]
[Having just imbibed a ton of Armand's blood, Rex is, well. Healed. Normal. At least, temporarily. He knows the effects of it will wear off in no more than 24 hours. But he wants to enjoy it, the feeling of inhaling air into his lungs, exhaling easily. Simply breathing and being, all unassisted, without relying on a machine or the mercy of others. After being trapped in the TARDIS for so many hours, confined to the ship because he couldn't breathe anywhere else without his missing ventilator, Rex decides that he needs to be in open space before he goes insane. He leaves his room, even with his restored appearance.
He figures, if anybody asks, he'll claim to be Arthur. There's one benefit of having that useless twin. Still, he knows that it's a ruse he can't pull off to those who know him. He's thinner, more tired looking, his hair is too short... Luckily, it's dark on the deck right now, and he's thrown the hood of his jacket up over his head, covering his too-short-to-be-Arthur hair.
He stays near the deck railing, leaning over it a little, his arms wrapped back around his neck as he stares out. He feels sick; he wants to scream as loudly as he can into the cosmos, but what good would it do? He needs to escape. The nanomites are ready; he could do it any day now. He needs to run away before the Barge destroys him any further.
SO, go find a brooding little supervillain if you're on the deck.]
[OOC: SO, a cocktail of recent events and conversations has led to Rex having an identity crisis/near breakdown/WHATEVER. He's just... going to be a crazy, withdrawn mess for a while. But then he'll get over it and IDEALLY return to his former, villainous glory. But for now he's got a pretty nasty addiction to Armand's blood, which started when Armand tried to turn him and then was on hold while Armand was off the Barge.]