Dirk is allowed a long, quiet moment to collect himself before they return again; whether it's because it takes more work this time to revive them or not is impossible to tell. From the outside, it's impossible to see if the mask is doing anything at all, the outer portions removed now and the anchor pressed against the pillow and buried in their wild hair.
When Ranboo awakens again, it isn't a slow, gradual awakening as if from sleep-- Showfall would never be so kind as to ease their actors into anything, much less life itself. The awakening is violent, as if they're ripped out of the numb, peaceful black of death and forced back into their body all at once, a ragged breath drawn, the focus suddenly returning to those vacant eyes.
There's a moment of pained disorientation, wordless, marked with a sob as, all at once, they're once again forced to process the agony that their body has endured-- the mask can awaken them, but it can't repair the damage done to the body in the process of death. Their chest hurts, the muscles in and around their ribs aching with each rough breath, and their head feels as if their brain has been swapped out for something soft and too-light, yet still wrapped with pain. They don't know where they are-- what's happened, why everything hurts the way that it does, and with all the understanding of a child frightened by thunder, they begin to cry again; the tears cause yet another wave of ache, a burning over their dry eyes, left open for too long in their absence from behind them, and he chokes softly, closing them tightly despite the way it only seems to spread that burn further into his skull.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-11-19 05:57 pm (UTC)When Ranboo awakens again, it isn't a slow, gradual awakening as if from sleep-- Showfall would never be so kind as to ease their actors into anything, much less life itself. The awakening is violent, as if they're ripped out of the numb, peaceful black of death and forced back into their body all at once, a ragged breath drawn, the focus suddenly returning to those vacant eyes.
There's a moment of pained disorientation, wordless, marked with a sob as, all at once, they're once again forced to process the agony that their body has endured-- the mask can awaken them, but it can't repair the damage done to the body in the process of death. Their chest hurts, the muscles in and around their ribs aching with each rough breath, and their head feels as if their brain has been swapped out for something soft and too-light, yet still wrapped with pain. They don't know where they are-- what's happened, why everything hurts the way that it does, and with all the understanding of a child frightened by thunder, they begin to cry again; the tears cause yet another wave of ache, a burning over their dry eyes, left open for too long in their absence from behind them, and he chokes softly, closing them tightly despite the way it only seems to spread that burn further into his skull.