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Mᴏʀɢᴀɴ Bʟᴀᴋᴇ; ʀᴀᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴏᴛᴇᴍ (
2016-01-07 06:06 pm (UTC)
Well, for a guy who was just told he could die today, Moritz is taking this conversation very calmly.
, he's agreeing to come with Morgan, to talk, privately. Morgan barely gets to enjoy the satisfaction though when Mortiz's emotions take a volatile turn, and suddenly the guy is screeching his words around a throat strained by tears that are now pooling in his eyes. The feelings are intense,
, rolling off the guy like steam.
They catch Morgan where he stands, filling his lungs with a constricting urge to cry. There's agony and hatred. Hope has died. Morgan jolts slightly as he realizes what he's slipping into.
It feels groggy, tired, tranquilized -- not tranquil, but like a heavy drunkenness. A body being forced to let go while a mind and soul are ravaged by pain. Morgan doesn't understand, caught between a vision and reality. It's the death, simulated, but there is no...
The Raven chuffs wearily. Morgan claws at his forehead with blunt fingertips. It's just sadness, loneliness. There is no wound, no outside influence. He doesn't get it.
"Look-- just-- c'
." Morgan tries his best to keep from outright snapping at Moritz; his mind is filling with sharp static. "You need an explanation, and I need a drink. An' t' keep anything from happenin' to you. 'Kay?" The bar is close now, just at the corner on the end of the block. The Raven launches from its perch in its direction.
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