Devil In The Church
Summary: Nitrim wakes in the Sky Palace…
Date: 27 May 2013
Related: Precedes Lengthening the Perspective by less than thirty minutes.
Nitrim 

Guest Suite — Sky Palace


And in the night, you'll hear me calling
All the stars recall your goodbye, your goodbye
Breathe in the light and say goodbye…

Tap tap tap…

Nitrim Khournas was in an alien place. The room he had woken inside of was a silvery room with soft, white pillows and silks that flew in the breeze that came through the open windows. The air was clean, pure in a way that Volkan hadn't seen outside in years and the atmospheric processors in his chamber could only attempt to recreate to some degree of success. The bed rose high above him in posts trailing white silk that kissed his skin and brushed him awake like the touch of a lover.

Fuck me… He thought as he blinked and rubbed at his groggy, green eyes. How the fuck do these people not wake up and wonder whether or not they're dead and in heaven?

He slipped out of the bed wearing the black, silk pajama pants he'd brought with him with his luggage from the tourney at Landing. With his legs dangling off of the side of the bed, he buried his toes into the carpet and hugged the floor with them. His vision starting to clear, he rose from the bed and trailed his fingertips through one of the hanging silks on his way to the bathroom.

His feet met the cold tile and gray-and-white marble with a slight chill, and seconds later the faucet was on. The water that he splashed on his face was cold…as it needed to be. Already he was starting to feel that twinge in the back of his neck and the discomfort at the corners of his eyes.

He would need to leave, and soon, so that he could find a place to dose within the next twenty hours. Just a little would do to keep the edge off, and wouldn't be so noticeable as he traveled.

"So…everyone's preparing for death." He said to his reflection, speaking as if he was holding a conversation. Nitrim wasn't crazy by any means, he knew it was just his reflection, but sometimes these little affirmations helped him gather his thoughts. "Hostiles are coming. The Awakened have been activated?" It was a question.

What had happened to the Awakened?

"Breathe in the light and say goodbye. Dream sent from a friend or foe?" He shook his head and leaned to the side, turning on the hot water for the shower. Ariana would be expecting him soon. "Think think think think think fucking Nitrim. You're out here, you're not sensing any further shit. The dream came in and went quiet…"

He slipped from his clothes and stepped into the shower, burying his head beneath the stream from the faucet. Eyes closed, he paid close attention to the feel of the hot water streaming down the sides of his face, and envisioned steam flowing from his lungs as he sighed. The water did its best to untie the knots from his shoulders, but he knew it would never do. The knots may very well remain until the end of the war or his death, whichever came first.

"…if it was a warning, then whoever sent it wasn't one of us. It had know way of knowing we'd have communications to spread word of the attack. It had to find a way to BE that communication system. So it made US the comm system…"

He shook his head and leaned back, baring his neck to the shower. His eyes opened to the attractive marble above him.

"No one is going to listen to your theories, Nitrim. Impress the girl. Get the fuck out. Make the impression and go home and sit in your fucking corner already."

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