Bailey Quinn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rollingontoanywhere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2013-11-22 01:20 pm
rollingontoanywhere) wrote in muserevival2013-11-22 01:20 pm
Entry tags:
043.1. Muse prompt
"And in the middle of the flood I felt my worth,
When you held onto me like I was your little life raft."
(The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol)
WARNING, CONTAINS VIOLENCE
Bailey currently had two priorities. Trying to forge a connection with his brother, and trying to sculpt this thing that had sparked with Corey into a relationship with facets they could both face together. The first was overwhelming and scary, but the latter was what was keeping him going to so he could have a hope of achieving the first. He hadn’t meant to grab onto Corey like he had and use him like a life raft when it felt like he was drowning so quickly, he was losing the ability to keep his head above the water. It felt like he had been thrown into a World War battle with nothing but a watergun to fight with, while the enemy had tanks and grenades and all that shit. In this case, however, the enemy was his body and his mind that was ailing because his body wasn’t working.
It was on the walk to his brother’s place for a coffee and more talking that things too a really bad turn for the worst. He had to go and get mugged, didn’t he? At least, they tried to mug him, he just didn’t have anything of worth that made him a successful target. This thug grabbed him and shoved him up against a wall, growling in his face with the awful teeth and bad breath that Bailey had to give him anything or he would stab him. Wallet and cell phone were gone, the two things that gave him any lingering identity in this place. When the filthy bastard realise he didn’t have anything of value, he punched Bailey in the side of the face and then the stomach, watching as he doubled over in pain and slumped to the ground against the wall, bleeding and bruised.
He had been terrified, and so frozen in fear that he hadn’t been able to issue a sound let alone to scream for help. The worst wasn’t the mugging, it was the fact that stress was a massive trigger for his condition. Without realising it, he lost control of his bladder (again) and his eye sight blurred, rapidly followed by his whole left side going numb. When he tried to speak, even if it was to no one, he just had to call for help, his speech wouldn’t even work. The blood from his nose that could well be broken was trickling down the back of his throat and triggering his gag reflex, causing him to retch. The tears came because the pain was excruciating and the sidewalk was freezing. Why was it that any time something good or hopeful happened for him, it was all torn away?
He had no choice but to lie there, absolutely certain this was it. He was dying, with his consciousness being sucked from him. He blacked out, lying there alone, and it was before he could tell both his brother and his new boyfriend how much they meant to him.
Bailey Quinn || Original Character || 516 words
When you held onto me like I was your little life raft."
(The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol)
Bailey currently had two priorities. Trying to forge a connection with his brother, and trying to sculpt this thing that had sparked with Corey into a relationship with facets they could both face together. The first was overwhelming and scary, but the latter was what was keeping him going to so he could have a hope of achieving the first. He hadn’t meant to grab onto Corey like he had and use him like a life raft when it felt like he was drowning so quickly, he was losing the ability to keep his head above the water. It felt like he had been thrown into a World War battle with nothing but a watergun to fight with, while the enemy had tanks and grenades and all that shit. In this case, however, the enemy was his body and his mind that was ailing because his body wasn’t working.
It was on the walk to his brother’s place for a coffee and more talking that things too a really bad turn for the worst. He had to go and get mugged, didn’t he? At least, they tried to mug him, he just didn’t have anything of worth that made him a successful target. This thug grabbed him and shoved him up against a wall, growling in his face with the awful teeth and bad breath that Bailey had to give him anything or he would stab him. Wallet and cell phone were gone, the two things that gave him any lingering identity in this place. When the filthy bastard realise he didn’t have anything of value, he punched Bailey in the side of the face and then the stomach, watching as he doubled over in pain and slumped to the ground against the wall, bleeding and bruised.
He had been terrified, and so frozen in fear that he hadn’t been able to issue a sound let alone to scream for help. The worst wasn’t the mugging, it was the fact that stress was a massive trigger for his condition. Without realising it, he lost control of his bladder (again) and his eye sight blurred, rapidly followed by his whole left side going numb. When he tried to speak, even if it was to no one, he just had to call for help, his speech wouldn’t even work. The blood from his nose that could well be broken was trickling down the back of his throat and triggering his gag reflex, causing him to retch. The tears came because the pain was excruciating and the sidewalk was freezing. Why was it that any time something good or hopeful happened for him, it was all torn away?
He had no choice but to lie there, absolutely certain this was it. He was dying, with his consciousness being sucked from him. He blacked out, lying there alone, and it was before he could tell both his brother and his new boyfriend how much they meant to him.
Bailey Quinn || Original Character || 516 words