Rex doesn't sleep easy, not naturally and certainly not when supernatural forces are trying to bring it upon him. The second he felt the unnatural effects reaching him, he was doing something about it. It won't do him any good in the long run, but someone might catch him shortly before his downfall in the infirmary- injecting himself with an ungodly amount of adrenaline.
B b is for bad
The realm crafted from Rex's subconscious is... wrong. It's at first glance a simple small town at night, distinctly lacking in people. But every seam, every intersection of two points, be that a wall, or paving slabs or screws in a surface slowly leaks pitch black tar. Even the door the visitor came through takes some pushing, as thick strands stick to each other and dribble down the edges. Everyone has to watch their step here and think twice about where they put their hands around here.
The only source of light is an abnormally tall lamppost in the direct centre of the town, shedding long shadows everywhere. Towards the outskirts, away from the light, soft music can be indistinctly heard. In one of the buildings, what seems to be some kind of warehouse a mighty crashing can be heard as if something large is trashing the place.
no subject
Rex doesn't sleep easy, not naturally and certainly not when supernatural forces are trying to bring it upon him. The second he felt the unnatural effects reaching him, he was doing something about it. It won't do him any good in the long run, but someone might catch him shortly before his downfall in the infirmary- injecting himself with an ungodly amount of adrenaline.
B b is for bad
The realm crafted from Rex's subconscious is... wrong. It's at first glance a simple small town at night, distinctly lacking in people. But every seam, every intersection of two points, be that a wall, or paving slabs or screws in a surface slowly leaks pitch black tar. Even the door the visitor came through takes some pushing, as thick strands stick to each other and dribble down the edges. Everyone has to watch their step here and think twice about where they put their hands around here.
The only source of light is an abnormally tall lamppost in the direct centre of the town, shedding long shadows everywhere. Towards the outskirts, away from the light, soft music can be indistinctly heard. In one of the buildings, what seems to be some kind of warehouse a mighty crashing can be heard as if something large is trashing the place.