[It's early, he gets the message just as he is leaving the night's shelter, and it freezes him in the doorway, pack slipping from his hand halfway to his shoulders. When he sees the username the first response is a sweet flooding relief - Norfinbury's only truly sweet emotion - but the message rattles him to his core.
He knows what he's looking at. He thinks of his last dreams of Anatole, what his friend had been with his mind whole around his truth. The reminder is the first unnerving thing. The second is a feeling like the nausea of vertigo. Slipping ground. Brian - who is this Brian? How does he live this reversal?
He can imagine. And prays that he is imagining wrong. He rushes to switch the voice feed on, forgetting the cold wind that keeps blowing in from the open door.]
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Date: 2017-03-16 09:09 pm (UTC)He knows what he's looking at. He thinks of his last dreams of Anatole, what his friend had been with his mind whole around his truth. The reminder is the first unnerving thing. The second is a feeling like the nausea of vertigo. Slipping ground. Brian - who is this Brian? How does he live this reversal?
He can imagine. And prays that he is imagining wrong. He rushes to switch the voice feed on, forgetting the cold wind that keeps blowing in from the open door.]
Brian, I'm alive, I'm here.