Post by Zephyr Hart on Apr 12, 2020 22:48:18 GMT
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In the fields the bodies burning
as the war machine keeps turning[attr="class","gearcore"] It wasn't uncommon for Connor to wake up hunched over a desk, arm pillowing his cheek, surrounded by cluttered scraps of concept sketches and parts from random projects that he'd chosen to prioritize over proper rest. That much, at least, was not new.
But the more he shook off the jealous grasp of sleep, the more he began to notice inexplicable details that were just wrong. For one, he was sitting on a wooden stool, which was a far cry from his usual wheelchair. (This could potentially be explained by one of his friends pulling a prank at his expense. Probably Billy Kasparian, if he had to guess.) The paper on the table was... well, it was more like parchment, really; it didn't have the industrial straight edges and bleached white surface that he was used to. And the parts -- the parts looked like they'd been pulled straight from a Final Fantasy game. Gone were the familiar tangle of wires, the spare cooling fan that he'd just replaced in his PC, and the scraps he'd scrounged up to build a battle-ready RC bot. In their place lie crystals, cogs, bits of metal in almost whimsical, but certainly unidentifiable shapes -- and, was that a trio of little robotic mice..?
He shifts to get a closer look since the potential danger of the situation hadn't yet sunken in, but immediately feels a far more alarming difference in the weight of his own body -- attached to his thighs are --
He yelps and jolts upright, then immediately loses his balance on the unfamiliar seat and tumbles backwards onto the floor of the attic workshop with a heavy thud, leaving the bionic legs -- his legs? -- clumsily propped up in plain view against the stool. The boy's eyes are wide and unbelieving, and he can't come to a single conclusion that makes any sense aside from all of this being a very convincing dream, given the absolutely bizarre circumstances he'd just woken to.
Scroll List: n/A
open!
For the event, Zeph is mentally the version of him that exists in this non-magic high school AU 8')
But the more he shook off the jealous grasp of sleep, the more he began to notice inexplicable details that were just wrong. For one, he was sitting on a wooden stool, which was a far cry from his usual wheelchair. (This could potentially be explained by one of his friends pulling a prank at his expense. Probably Billy Kasparian, if he had to guess.) The paper on the table was... well, it was more like parchment, really; it didn't have the industrial straight edges and bleached white surface that he was used to. And the parts -- the parts looked like they'd been pulled straight from a Final Fantasy game. Gone were the familiar tangle of wires, the spare cooling fan that he'd just replaced in his PC, and the scraps he'd scrounged up to build a battle-ready RC bot. In their place lie crystals, cogs, bits of metal in almost whimsical, but certainly unidentifiable shapes -- and, was that a trio of little robotic mice..?
He shifts to get a closer look since the potential danger of the situation hadn't yet sunken in, but immediately feels a far more alarming difference in the weight of his own body -- attached to his thighs are --
He yelps and jolts upright, then immediately loses his balance on the unfamiliar seat and tumbles backwards onto the floor of the attic workshop with a heavy thud, leaving the bionic legs -- his legs? -- clumsily propped up in plain view against the stool. The boy's eyes are wide and unbelieving, and he can't come to a single conclusion that makes any sense aside from all of this being a very convincing dream, given the absolutely bizarre circumstances he'd just woken to.
Scroll List: n/A
open!
For the event, Zeph is mentally the version of him that exists in this non-magic high school AU 8')
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