( if i don't get some shelter, gonna fade away )

[heckofashot]

Who: maccready + closed
What: searching for some books, and green fog things.
When: april (onwards?)
Where: milton, probably

Content Warnings: listed in headers where applicable.

Comments

mid april — for tobi

[heckofashot]

[ The fog rolls in as he's returning from the woods, rifle over his shoulder and hands notably free of any kills. By the time it has crept in over the treeline, going around it would take him wildly off the tracked path through the snow and potentially add another hour or two onto his trek back into Milton proper — it's not exactly time he can spare when already losing light.

Still, he has to make a decision, and he figures going through is a better course of action; he can carefully move around the thicker patches when he's in it, or at least so he'd thought. He's flagging, enough that he's able to come to the conclusion it's because of the fog — he pushes on, because he has to, even as it becomes difficult to navigate through.

That it starts looking different, green around the edges, goes almost entirely unnoticed — no ticking of a Geiger counter to alert him to it, not that he thinks it would trigger such a response. He feels it first on his hands, his stubborn refusal to wear gloves in favour of maintaining dexterity mean it's one of the few places his skin is exposed. It's an almost instantaneous burn, has him gritting his teeth as it blisters across his fingers.

When he eventually makes it out of the woods, his hands are a bloody mess. His scarf is pulled up around his face, though how much good it's done him is up in the air — he's still coughing, can taste the metallic tang in his mouth. The sun has since dipped below the horizon as he stumbles his way towards the familiar buildings that lie on the outskirts. If he can just make it a little further… ]