Chuck Shurley | God (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paterelohim) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-04-16 03:33 pm
paterelohim) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-04-16 03:33 pm
Entry tags:
where have you been? it's alright, we know where you've been.
Who: Chuck Shurley, Michael
When: Monday morning
Where: the baseball diamond
Summary: welcome back, Chuckie. ♥
Warnings: PG for language, I think.
["--nothing ever really ends, does it?" THE END period carriage return carriage return as He disrobes His body into ether to bid the world good-bye-
-and tumbles face-first into dying grass, sore, disorientingly solid. There's barely a second to try and calm the ringing in His ears before He's throwing up violently, clutching his stomach until it hurts and He can't retch anymore.
He's been here before. There's too much noise in his head -- spark-starlight fabric ripping prayers echos shouting ringtones the Core's deep-down singing and silence - to concentrate and remember the whens, hows, whys: all he has is where. The "where"- the where has him groaning and clutching his stomach, pushing up to his hands and knees weakly and cursing from the spinning pain of having His universe ripped out through His nose. It's not home. Not His place, and it's only the feeling of breathing without lungs that starts to clue Him in.
Here.]
Shit.
[He's back.]
When: Monday morning
Where: the baseball diamond
Summary: welcome back, Chuckie. ♥
Warnings: PG for language, I think.
["--nothing ever really ends, does it?" THE END period carriage return carriage return as He disrobes His body into ether to bid the world good-bye-
-and tumbles face-first into dying grass, sore, disorientingly solid. There's barely a second to try and calm the ringing in His ears before He's throwing up violently, clutching his stomach until it hurts and He can't retch anymore.
He's been here before. There's too much noise in his head -- spark-starlight fabric ripping prayers echos shouting ringtones the Core's deep-down singing and silence - to concentrate and remember the whens, hows, whys: all he has is where. The "where"- the where has him groaning and clutching his stomach, pushing up to his hands and knees weakly and cursing from the spinning pain of having His universe ripped out through His nose. It's not home. Not His place, and it's only the feeling of breathing without lungs that starts to clue Him in.
Here.]
Shit.
[He's back.]
no subject
[Michael will never be like Gabiel or Dean when it comes to references. Seems like Chuck is feeling better though.]