"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
02-11-2022, 05:51 PM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2022, 03:32 PM by Nemeon.)
Although he had been hoping for company, there’s nothing short of surprise with how it chooses to manifest itself. A creature he’s never seen - some sort of blob of white and black fur - drops out of a nearby tree and startles the dark grey gargoyle into stopping in his tracks. He’s never seen a shapeshifter before - only has the experience of Anaise turning into the sun and then himself - so his surprise doubles when the fuzzy creature becomes a stallion about his age.
His shock slows his reactions, those carefully honed things that he’s been so careful about, and before he knows it the pale purple stallion is introducing himself and then reaching out in greeting. It takes actual physical contact to jumpstart Nemeon’s brain into actually working. He attempts to stumble backwards, but they are in a forest. There’s no where to go. Even if the trees are a little sparser here than where he had begun his journey tonight, his hip collides with a branch as he tries to move.
Fear pumps loudly through his veins, reminding him that he is very much not stone at the moment. His wings unfurl a little but there is nowhere for them to go either, they’re just held out a little from his body in an effort to enforce a tiny bit of space.
But his golden eyes don’t dare look away from the other, afraid to see any signs of discomfort. “I uh…” Nemeon isn’t sure what to say - answer the questions asked or explain why he had tried to get away. Or maybe he should just leave?
There’s just such an easy smile on Link’s face, Nemeon could not stomach the idea of leaving and not knowing if he had left behind sickness for such a kind stranger. “I’m…” His second attempt at figuring out what to say gets nowhere either so he swallows, and hopes that the stinging he can feel on his back isn’t torn flesh.
When he does manage to speak, it’s not the ‘hey don’t touch me I might make your hair fall out and your stomach twist in painful nots’ warning that it should be. He’s still recovering from the 0 to 100 surprise night that is happening. “I’m only stone sometimes.” An apology would be in order too, but it’s clear from his wide golden eyes he’s still in a bit of shock. He’ll get there eventually, for now he just operates on auto-pilot and that means only answering the questions asked. “And uh, I’m Nemeon.”
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.