postictal: (the shit is that)
Tim W█████ ([personal profile] postictal) wrote in [community profile] rapturefree 2015-09-18 12:11 am (UTC)

He shuts his eyes with a sharp intake of breath as the Daddy's lumbering footsteps stagger into a charge - and then, abruptly, is replaced with the high whine of angry insects.

He didn't expect to see Jay here. Even less did he expect to see him splicing. Jay's palm is rough when he seizes Tim's arm - rough with the cobbled honeycomb skin you only get from a plasmid.

It looks wrong. He feels like he might be sick.

"Are you - " he begins angrily, and aborts the sentence when the drone of the bees dies into a panicked buzz. Fuck. Okay. They can handle this later, clearly. He hadn't gone out with the intent of picking any fights today; he's not carrying weapons, and he'd have to be at the end of his rope to consider splicing as some kind of viable option. The hell is Jay thinking, messing with his biology like that?

Wordlessly, Tim obeys and surges into a run as the Daddy regains enough wherewithal to realize it now has two targets.

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