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He was nowhere, numb limbs scattered on the ground, uncaring to the cold that bit his flesh. His flesh was covered by pale, sickly ashy even skin loosely wrapped around his pitiful amount of body fat, all enveloped in too-big clothes that hung on him like a ragdoll. Now pinned down with a layer of snow, it lined out his shape even more, underlying the lacks. The owner did not care in the slightest about it all, deciding to believe in the softness of the snow upon which he slumbered. Forcing his eyes open did no difference to keeping them closed. Frost clung to his eyelashes, obscuring his vision and turning everything into blobs consistent with different hues. The distortions danced before him, intensifying his nausea as he struggled to make out their real shapes. Alabaster, vanilla, ivory, glaucous, celadon, bright white, and of course... Yellow..?
"...Ey...! Ant 'ave ya layi..."
Did his soul leave his body or was it levitating now? Another trick of the mind - perhaps, because it felt as if suddenly he was way higher than before.
"LIKE THIS!"
A sharp and loud noise struck his earbuds with full force like a dull knife repeatedly hitting a chicken's neck in an attempt to cut it off. Somehow it awoke him instantly giving him a surge of energy he hadn't felt in a long while. His amethyst eyes shot wide open and skimmed the surroundings until his eyelids slowly fell shut again. The action was like a balloon being blown up too fast with helium, initially expanding rapidly only to pop and collapse moments later. In that fleeting instant, what had he seen? An odd mess of colours: macaroon, eggnog, sky blue, and umber. Colours that could as well belong to a well-made Borodinsky bread... or a simple sandwich consisting of an over-baked bread and a pair of scrambled eggs on it... Oh, he would eat any kind of bread at the moment.
"Ah, applesauce! Haha! Didn't expect a bimbo like ya to completely lean on me!"
Oh, it came back, booming in his ears like cannon shots.
"Come on dude, you can walk right?"
Although, maybe cannon shots were not as earsplitting.
"...Guess not!"
And not as abrupt.
"To be honest seeing a big six unable to stand is making me a tad bundled up haha!"
Maybe, he can get used to it enough to tune it out and lull himself back to sleep. After all, even though the soft wet mattress was replaced by a harder and coarse one, it still was a mattress...
"Um, dude, you should prove me wrong not right! Where is the fighting spirit man!"
Just to lay down and sleep again... To continue this odd dream but in a little lower position...
"NOPE! We can't have that!"
Suddenly, as if he were dancing, his legs shot up in the air, his head falling, feeling a strong pull under his waist. Like a ballerino cutting the air with his legs, perhaps doing a relevé, an attitude, or just a pirouette; he was spinning, hopping, everything swirling around him and leaving nothing to hold on. Everything was happening so fast, yet each movement felt like it was happening under a movement-slowing spell. He could feel each muscle tense, stretch, and fold under complex positions, as if his body was a flexible clay, mending under the hands of a craftsman. And then it stopped, his head found a support; a leathery cushion that oddly smelled like petrol. An atypical nest. His legs as well were, not being made to stand on their own now, leaning on a supporting pole. Somehow despite the fact that the supports slightly dug in his body, it still felt more comfortable than the glacial mattress. So comfortable that he...
Warmth enveloped him, and he could feel again, body no longer ossified from the blistering cold. However, the feeling was not a relief, as it brought aches instead. Aches from staying in one position for too long and then being forced to another. Even though the new one was way more comfortable, it still brought him discomfort, a feeling that something was amiss. When getting used to a uniform state, being forced into a reaction turns it into a variable one, making the body different. Something was amiss, the constancy. But if the cost for it were soft and plush cushions placed under his back and a warm fireplace burning before his nose, then he could manage it, he supposed.
A fireplace? Oh, a burning fire was right there! That was the source of warmth! A giggle escaped his lips as he felt captivated by the blurred dancing flames. Apricot, melon, tangerine, or just orange! Yes, orange was spilled on his face, spilled in his view. Oh, the warmth was not the only thing new! He smelled something, something thick with the smell of meat.. mushrooms... oh, was it food? This dream was enjoyable! Enjoyable indeed! Two calloused hands twitched in a pitiful attempt at clap, he could hear claps in his imagination so it counted as a one. Counted, each crumb of bread counted and this smelled like a full meal, a full meal for one. Oh, how joyous he was. Getting used to having little to no food at all made him anticipate the meal, like a holiday that brought happiness and warmth.
"Oh, I see that this rag-a-muffin finally woke up! Right on time! I got something that will get you on your feet in no~o time!"
A voice boomed to his right, oddly close too as if the person sitting right beside him. Wait, was there pressure on his side before? He turned his head and stared at the blurry silhouette before him, a silhouette oddly familiar yet alien as well.
"Now, you can eat on your own, right?"
Something was shoved into his chest, but he did not attempt to collect it, being too much in trying to decipher the unknown presence, was it someone close to him?
"Hello~o! Do not be a sap and just dig in, man!"
Yes, must have been.. He lately got used to this matter of speech. Otherwise, he wouldn't understand this person at all. He still used funny words which were a mystery to him.
"...Okay, I guess we will need to do it more awkwardly.."
The pressure on his chest disappeared, instead something shifted to his right. Suddenly an odd pressure appeared on his legs and the light from the fireplace got completely covered. Black obscured his vision and he slowly tilted his head just to something gently straighten it.
"Okay then, here it comes..!"
Then something soft and wet pressed against his lips. An unknown substance slowly fell down his lip, going down his chin. He did not react at first, staying frozen in place and processing what was possibly happening. It pressed harder, more impatiently and demandingly, for entrance. Then he realised it was the source of the smell, the oh-so-divine smell. He slowly opened his mouth to breathe food in and then it popped right inside. His eyes widened in surprise, earning an odd noise akin to a chuckle from a man before him. It was pleasant to ears, even, he thought. But now it was time to savour what just happened to jump in his mouth. His tongue moved around the object, licking the sauce leaking from it. His head moved slightly backward to bite the thing and taste it. It was chicken in an odd mushy sauce with a few beans. He should savour the taste, slowly chewing to feel the whole palette of the meal. Instead, he almost immediately swallowed it after a few angry bites. Closing his eyes after feeling content, he did not expect another one. Yet, again, the same thing of a different shape pressed against his lips. This time he did not waste any time and quickly ate it. Press, bite, swallow, press, bite, swallow, press bite, swallow, and after a while, it all stopped. By instinct, he opened his mouth yet again, as if demanding yet another portion just to hear the loud laugh of the mysterious man.
Right, he did not uncover the mystery of his guest! He slowly opened his eyes. Finding out that now his view was not so blurred and he could easily make out the shapes before him. One of them being the laughing face of a certain loud blonde.
"Америка?"