[ OPEN ]

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

[ All he wanted to do was duck out to grab something for dinner. Cook a proper meal for some people and try to settle himself into some shade of normalcy- he doesn't remember what went wrong. Just that something did. That one moment he was on the sidewalk and the other he'd ducked down the stairs to avoid rain or something and then-

Time's lost. It'd been dark. There'd been voices. There'd been- things. Nox. He's covered in something viscous and he's not all that certain as to what it might actually be- part of him thinks he should grab a sample. The rest just wants a bath. A drink, a bath, and a long time spent in bed. He's not visibly roughed up other than looking mighty sorry and ragged as he makes his way, finally, back into the light.

Semiopaque- something, coats him head to toe. Sticks his scrubs to him, mats his hair to his skull, squelches with each step.

There's not a scent- not a taste. Not even all that much of a color but it's like grease and despair and he just- he wants it off. ]