Post by Jenn on Oct 19, 2007 12:59:51 GMT -7
((Going off of what we did before. <3))
A bulky green shape waddled its way through the corridors of Dayobi's home, grunting and wheezing as he took one laborious step after another. Maskaeinji's stomach was so far distended that it looked like he'd swallowed some sort of creature whole, possibly a large pig or a young deer. Round but vaguely lumpy, he took care to keep it off the hard-packed ground and away from the walls. No sense in pushing anything where it didn't belong if it wasn't necessary.
He reached his destination, an unremarkable door in the hallway off a back entrance, unseen. The lack of company was just as well, since he wouldn't be up to much conversation in his present state. He paused once the door was open and the room found empty, a little while spent just breathing and resting his ungainly bulk on a rug. With a grunt, he heaved himself up again to close the door and move over to the bed of pillows, carefully settling himself down in the lest uncomfortable position he could find on the forgiving cushions. Carrying the kind of weight he did, comfort would be out of the question. Then again, when did the Infection ever expect or seek out luxury?
Closing obsidian eyes, he idly wondered where Mulsej's latest stash of booze was tucked away and if he could reach it without moving. Not likely, a suspicion which his cursory glance indicated was correct. He couldn't see a wine bottle within easy grabbing distance. Pleasant numbness would have to wait.
He sighed and felt fleas crawl along his stomach, delighting in the extra surface area in which to live. Boredom creeping in along with the itch, he imagined them setting up whole new colonies claiming different portions of his gut and chuckled, the sound thick with phlegm. Laying on his side meant that it all coagulated in one set of sinus cavities, leaving them packed while he could breathe out of the opposite nostril. At least it wasn't summer. Then he might have to end this state of existence in favor of something a little less...inconvenient. Not that he would want to - however much certain parties might not believe it, Mask very much wanted to bear this litter to fruition. Having the little sprats biting at his ankles would be a rather welcome distraction.
Not for the first time, he wondered at the extraordinary size of his bulk. There'd better be a lot, or they'd better be big, else he'd smack something for the inconvenience. Probably the father...one of them. The small one. The bat.
Damn bat. He'd be in for a surprise. The thought brought a pleased chuckle to the canine's lips and distracted him for a little while in his wait.
A bulky green shape waddled its way through the corridors of Dayobi's home, grunting and wheezing as he took one laborious step after another. Maskaeinji's stomach was so far distended that it looked like he'd swallowed some sort of creature whole, possibly a large pig or a young deer. Round but vaguely lumpy, he took care to keep it off the hard-packed ground and away from the walls. No sense in pushing anything where it didn't belong if it wasn't necessary.
He reached his destination, an unremarkable door in the hallway off a back entrance, unseen. The lack of company was just as well, since he wouldn't be up to much conversation in his present state. He paused once the door was open and the room found empty, a little while spent just breathing and resting his ungainly bulk on a rug. With a grunt, he heaved himself up again to close the door and move over to the bed of pillows, carefully settling himself down in the lest uncomfortable position he could find on the forgiving cushions. Carrying the kind of weight he did, comfort would be out of the question. Then again, when did the Infection ever expect or seek out luxury?
Closing obsidian eyes, he idly wondered where Mulsej's latest stash of booze was tucked away and if he could reach it without moving. Not likely, a suspicion which his cursory glance indicated was correct. He couldn't see a wine bottle within easy grabbing distance. Pleasant numbness would have to wait.
He sighed and felt fleas crawl along his stomach, delighting in the extra surface area in which to live. Boredom creeping in along with the itch, he imagined them setting up whole new colonies claiming different portions of his gut and chuckled, the sound thick with phlegm. Laying on his side meant that it all coagulated in one set of sinus cavities, leaving them packed while he could breathe out of the opposite nostril. At least it wasn't summer. Then he might have to end this state of existence in favor of something a little less...inconvenient. Not that he would want to - however much certain parties might not believe it, Mask very much wanted to bear this litter to fruition. Having the little sprats biting at his ankles would be a rather welcome distraction.
Not for the first time, he wondered at the extraordinary size of his bulk. There'd better be a lot, or they'd better be big, else he'd smack something for the inconvenience. Probably the father...one of them. The small one. The bat.
Damn bat. He'd be in for a surprise. The thought brought a pleased chuckle to the canine's lips and distracted him for a little while in his wait.