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Mar. 5th, 2015 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
2goodarmsThe tail could never hold much heat. Nothing beyond what you could capture off your own body, in blankets or hats or ragged sweaters, or what you'd share with other close-pressed bodies in such a small space. Eighteen years made him forget some of its nuances, but each type he encounters imprints like a brand: fire, sunlight, the wet heat of the greenhouse car, the sweat of the mechanics around the engine.
Fire again, wrapping around the four of them like an embrace.
And when it ends, he opens his eyes to more heat: this kind gentle, warming rather than scorching. He blinks. Shields his eyes from the light, which burns much more than the warmth.
Sunlight again? And plants, trees -- not confined to a single place, but spreading out in all directions like his dimmest memories of Earth. No train car could ever be this big.
What the fuck, Curtis thinks, and doesn't get any farther before he sees the lake.
Unconstrained access to liquid water. The sight alone would spark an intense thirst, and that was before everything he just endured.
Curtis scrambles across the grass (the grass, what the fuck), awkwardly heaving his weight along on one hand and both knees. After two meager palmfuls of water, he gives up and dunks his whole head in the lake, sucking down water as fast as he can.
He's pretty sure he's either dead or hallucinating. It'd explain a lot. But he'll worry about that later.
[ooc: slowtime in effect as of 11:50 PM ET. thanks!]
Fire again, wrapping around the four of them like an embrace.
And when it ends, he opens his eyes to more heat: this kind gentle, warming rather than scorching. He blinks. Shields his eyes from the light, which burns much more than the warmth.
Sunlight again? And plants, trees -- not confined to a single place, but spreading out in all directions like his dimmest memories of Earth. No train car could ever be this big.
What the fuck, Curtis thinks, and doesn't get any farther before he sees the lake.
Unconstrained access to liquid water. The sight alone would spark an intense thirst, and that was before everything he just endured.
Curtis scrambles across the grass (the grass, what the fuck), awkwardly heaving his weight along on one hand and both knees. After two meager palmfuls of water, he gives up and dunks his whole head in the lake, sucking down water as fast as he can.
He's pretty sure he's either dead or hallucinating. It'd explain a lot. But he'll worry about that later.
[ooc: slowtime in effect as of 11:50 PM ET. thanks!]
