oneam
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"'I’ve got nightmare eyes.'
Mae Borowski glared intently at the large bathroom counter mirror in front of where she was standing. Her hands tightly gripped the smooth porcelain of the countertop, her knuckles turning white from the sheer force she used in her hold. She stood on the tips of her toes as she leaned forward, staring at her reflection ferociously, in a feral sort of state. Her eyes narrowed as she took in her reflection, pupils darting all around her face. Her short, messy navy blue with a slight maroon gradient at the tips. Her ears, peeking out from the loose hair protruding from her scalp. One of her ears had two visible indentations at the side, the scars long since healed over. Her mouth, contorted into a ravenous snarl.
Oh, but her eyes.
...
These were not hers."
Series
- Part 1 of Contorted
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She tossed and turned, unsure of why sleep was coming so uneasy to her that very night. She supposed she was bound to figure it out, whether that meant getting help, or not.
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Nightmares. It was nightmares that would harass Tord relentlessly throughout his nights. Sometimes he agonizingly suffered through them. Other times, he feels as if he just can't handle them anymore.
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After returning to his apartment building, Tord is faced with an issue. The stairs leading up to his apartment is closed down for maintenance. He's left with one option; to take the less-than-appealing elevator. Already put on edge by the prospect of having to do so, he begins to feel worse when a particular green-hoodied friend of his step on in with him.
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Connor stepped off the curb, one hair pulling lightly at his hair. It was likely the suspect would continue to remain in crowded areas. He didn’t need to rely on his program.
Two things happened at once.
He stepped further into the road.
The light turned green.
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Connor sat up, then faltered as his optical components decalibrated for a few seconds. The room tilted, and he flopped back down. He debated calling for Hank, then decided against it. Calling for help would undoubtedly put unneeded stress on the older man. He was fine, surely. Just a brief malfunction.
Bookmarked by oneam
18 Jun 2019
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Reasons Why I Am Alive by l_M_l (orphan_account)
Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
08 Oct 2018
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Running Analysis...
Feeling - Absent
Heart - Omitted
Emotion - UnaccountedDiagnosis
Ć̶̥̹͈̭͉̻̜̯͜o̶̘̻͆͗͂n̶̢̧͚͉͉͖̤̗͕̝̠̦̞͋͊͐͊̎̊̇̽̚n̸̺̠̳͊̑̅̄̆̍̈͆͊̀͆̓̓̚͜ö̶̧̩̝͒̂̾́̈́r̶̡̧̢̛͙̗̞̘̟̯̬̖̩̉̈́̍̈̋ͅ ̶̬̼̳̦͓̳͈̫̗̭̖͇̲́͑̽̀̈́͑́͘ḯ̴̥͙̯̰͖͇͔̠͉̱͙̱̅̋̔̏̈͝s̵̨̢̹̗̮̪̤̱̋̐͋̕̚͘ ̸̧̢̛̗͈͉̗̦̣̔̾̀̃͜͝ǹ̵̟̝͆ơ̷̲͍̅̇̈͛̂̀͂͗͌̓̇̀͋̄ẗ̵̡͉̤͓͔̯̫̜̯̗̾͛́͒́̏ ̸̧̭̲̣͍̍̏̾̋̊̌̔̿̀͝͠a̴̡̞̤̍̋̎̈́̾́̇̅̈́͗̂̔l̷̮̙̤͍͕̯̥̪͐͗̎͑̅́̏͋͆͋̆̈́̚͜͠í̷̤̠͆̓̾̏͛͝v̴̡̳̤̥͚̠̭͓̰̪͙͗͋̇̎̕ȩ̵̧͕͔͖͚͎̰̳̲̲̄͌.
n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠
n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠
n̶̰̲͕͎̊ò̸̱̖̓̓̏͒͗͐t̸͓̻̠͚͙͊̇̔̈͂̈̈́͋̓͌͛̾̚̚͠ ̶̡̘̠̟͉̝̥̲̣̿ä̷̰͍̥͕̟̫͈̲͚͍͐̚ͅl̶͎̺̫̬̺̹͇̻͎̄̀̇́͌͂̀́̉̕͝i̷͍͍̫͉̮̍̊̒̈́v̷̨̠̝̹͉̋̈́̀́̀͛́̎̏̍̎̀e̸̛͍͖̜̼̺̳͔̖̥͇͖͖̙̐̈́̇̔̏̓́͊̆̕͘͝ͅͅ ̷̡̡̨̛̯̹̪͇̠̝̳̳̩̮̩́̂͑͛̍̉͌͌͐̎̓̐͠
If I bleed, I am alive.
If I can be hurt, I am alive.
If I can die, I am alive.
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He stumbled to a stop several blocks away. He closed his eyes only to see dead ones gazing back from his automatic memory replay. Dead eyes, cold skin, his sensors offered. No heartbeat, red blood.
STRESS AT 99.4%. SELF-DESTRUCTION IMMINENT.
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Connor is stressed out and Hank has to calm him down. -
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Hank swiveled his chair to face Connor, the other typing away at a perfectly regulated speed, face blank and shoulders slack. “You’d tell me if something was really bothering you, right?”
Connor paused, then raised his eyes from the screen to meet Hank’s gaze. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Something was very, very, very wrong.