[it's been a long, tiring Thursday for Akira Kurusu]
[he awakens seated in a chair arms limp at his sides, head bowed. his mind is foggy, hazy even, just like-- just like it was when he first came to in the tea room. that thought is alarming]
[his heart immediately begins to race, pounding like a drum in his chest, threatening to leap into his throat and seal off his air flow. he has a piece of torn cloth tucked in the eye hole of one side of his mask, kept in place by another piece of cloth wrapped around his head-- it's like an eye patch. and the various cuts he sustained from his earlier adventures are also wrapped in strips of makeshift bandages, extending down his arms. everything stills hurts, ugh]
[he groans, attempts to lift his head to look around, but for some reason no matter how hard he tries? no part of his body will cooperate with him. he's a sitting duck, and that? that just makes things worse]
no subject
[he awakens seated in a chair arms limp at his sides, head bowed. his mind is foggy, hazy even, just like-- just like it was when he first came to in the tea room. that thought is alarming]
[his heart immediately begins to race, pounding like a drum in his chest, threatening to leap into his throat and seal off his air flow. he has a piece of torn cloth tucked in the eye hole of one side of his mask, kept in place by another piece of cloth wrapped around his head-- it's like an eye patch. and the various cuts he sustained from his earlier adventures are also wrapped in strips of makeshift bandages, extending down his arms. everything stills hurts, ugh]
[he groans, attempts to lift his head to look around, but for some reason no matter how hard he tries? no part of his body will cooperate with him. he's a sitting duck, and that? that just makes things worse]
Wh. . . what. . .?