[ he wakes with a strangled gasp. he takes in his surroundings. looks at himself. looks into the reflective ground. it takes him a few more minutes of squinting at himself, and the world around him in general, but eventually something clicks for him and he starts growling and grasping violently at his halo.
when that seems to do nothing, he graduates to trying to smash the back of his head against the ground. which also accomplishes nothing. except, perhaps, for him rolling around holding his head while swearing up a storm. ]
b. hide the scars to fade away the shakeup
[ once he's recovered from hitting his head, he finally notices the gift box! he goes through it, unimpressed, and once he's hit the bottom and found nothing else...he growls again and starts trying to destroy everything. The egg gets thrown first, and doesn't crack. Neither does the phone. Nor anything else. Except for...the squishmallow.
He rips it apart and begins yanking the stuffing out of it. And then he seemingly remembers his outfit out of nowhere, and begins tearing that off too.
He is roaring the whole time. Don't worry everyone he's having a normal one. ]
c. why'd you leave the keys upon the table
[ well. now that he's tired himself out he's sitting in the cafe, angel wings half-ripped apart and tassels all ragged, shiny pants in tatters. He's covered in bits of cotton fluff, eating a turkey sandwich like it personally offends him. ]
no subject
[ he wakes with a strangled gasp. he takes in his surroundings. looks at himself. looks into the reflective ground. it takes him a few more minutes of squinting at himself, and the world around him in general, but eventually something clicks for him and he starts growling and grasping violently at his halo.
when that seems to do nothing, he graduates to trying to smash the back of his head against the ground. which also accomplishes nothing. except, perhaps, for him rolling around holding his head while swearing up a storm. ]
b. hide the scars to fade away the shakeup
[ once he's recovered from hitting his head, he finally notices the gift box! he goes through it, unimpressed, and once he's hit the bottom and found nothing else...he growls again and starts trying to destroy everything. The egg gets thrown first, and doesn't crack. Neither does the phone. Nor anything else. Except for...the squishmallow.
He rips it apart and begins yanking the stuffing out of it. And then he seemingly remembers his outfit out of nowhere, and begins tearing that off too.
He is roaring the whole time. Don't worry everyone he's having a normal one. ]
c. why'd you leave the keys upon the table
[ well. now that he's tired himself out he's sitting in the cafe, angel wings half-ripped apart and tassels all ragged, shiny pants in tatters. He's covered in bits of cotton fluff, eating a turkey sandwich like it personally offends him. ]