Surgo

majestyrising:

Notes: Rho wakes up, Bastion does not.
Pings: @hellkite-fr, @fusefr, @kattafr, @archaic-fr, @jollyroger-fr, @mask-fr, @deadlanddisciple, @fr-crobbin, @webwing-alpha

He
does not dream. No towering pillars nor chains adorn his subconscious
mind, there is no reek of iron and no din. There is only an endless expanse of
white, stretching for infinity.
It hurts.
Rho’s pale blue eyes flutter open with great effort. His vision is full of
black holes, and tinted grey. He feels strangely disassociated from his body,
except that he acutely aware that every inch now contains a dull ache. It is
more than unpleasant, and it rouses his mind further.
“It’s alright,” says a familiar voice, “It’s going to be alright. You’re safe,
okay baby?”
Eden?
He opens his mouth to speak and finds it dry and empty; his mind lethargically
reminds him his vocal cords do not work and he should shut it again.
He does.

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