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taxonomites2011-11-14 06:32 pm
goodluck-kobra.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2011-11-14 06:32 pm
Entry tags:
12 | visual |All the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Kobra is in one of his moods, not the good kind. He's been unable to sleep again, nightmares haunting him, and he's homesick. By now he's given up hoping that Ghoul, Jet, Grace or even Show Pony are going to show up here. Sometimes it makes it hard to breathe, like there are people shaped holes in his chest.
His mood has gone from angry to depressed, a distinct and obvious change. Kobra's phases of depression were never easy on him and probably the only case where BL/nd had ever been right about medication. They'd just never given him the right kind.
In addition to that Kobra is still miserably sick, and it was getting worse each day. He is congested, his throat feels hot and raw and even little sips of water seem to send his stomach into revolt. Everything sucks and Kobra wants to pout in a corner, maybe even cry some tears of rage.
Nothing of that shows though as he looks at the tablet, blood-shot eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He's even more sensitive to light these days. His face is impassive as ever, voice just a little bit more flat, a lot more nasal.
"Is there something like a radio around?" Because the one thing that has always helped at least a little was music. But he had none in Taxon. "Or...anything of that kind?" He could probably listen to music on the tablet, but there wouldn't be a proper DJ and Kobra felt like that is too easy for the hamsters to track. Music has always been a form of rebellions, something you do away from prying eyes.
Kobra lights a cigarette and sniffs, rubbing his nose. "C'mon, there's gotta be something?"
His mood has gone from angry to depressed, a distinct and obvious change. Kobra's phases of depression were never easy on him and probably the only case where BL/nd had ever been right about medication. They'd just never given him the right kind.
In addition to that Kobra is still miserably sick, and it was getting worse each day. He is congested, his throat feels hot and raw and even little sips of water seem to send his stomach into revolt. Everything sucks and Kobra wants to pout in a corner, maybe even cry some tears of rage.
Nothing of that shows though as he looks at the tablet, blood-shot eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He's even more sensitive to light these days. His face is impassive as ever, voice just a little bit more flat, a lot more nasal.
"Is there something like a radio around?" Because the one thing that has always helped at least a little was music. But he had none in Taxon. "Or...anything of that kind?" He could probably listen to music on the tablet, but there wouldn't be a proper DJ and Kobra felt like that is too easy for the hamsters to track. Music has always been a form of rebellions, something you do away from prying eyes.
Kobra lights a cigarette and sniffs, rubbing his nose. "C'mon, there's gotta be something?"
[visual]
"Yeah I do. I can show you how to play, if you want?"
[visual]
He opened his hands in a gesture of agreement. "If you'd like to," Briar replied, a wry quirk to his mouth as he added, "I don't think I'll be going anywhere for awhile." Kobra was interested in his trees, and Briar didn't mind seeing if he was interested in something the other man enjoyed. If he had an ear for it, Briar would likely be a good musician with any instrument he tried. He'd spent long enough working with his hands and his breath.
[visual]