sadfreezingbrit_archive: (too far away...)
[ First Philip met up with Dean. Then unhappy memories were created.

And now the adrenaline wears off and Philip wonders if there was a point to his escape to begin with.

He remembers when Clarence of all people reminds him that he meant to warn "the love of his life... oh yeah, and Evie too".

And so he reaches for the communication device, hoping that Dean doesn't lurk around the next corner to hear... not before his message is sent.
]

Evie, listen, I was wrong about Dean, he won't help he's one of them just stay away, don't....

[ Then his train of thought breaks and he forgets to dial the second number, unaware that his private audio turned into a public video (the image of which is, granted, mostly obscured by dark red smudges on the screen).

Having done his duty he leans back against the cold stone. Just a minute to catch his breath. Just a minute... to rest and... and then he'll get up... again... probably.
]

[[ OOC: Backdated to the event's first day. Philip is still alive and up for a friendly chat, but unfortunately he already has a date with Santana which he just can't miss, so action is only an option for those who have no intention of helping or killing him.

All threads take place before his encounter with Santana, unless you want to find his body and use it as a decorative wall element.
]]
sadfreezingbrit_archive: (heavy. cold. strange markings.)
[ Philip's face is looking perfectly normal (if a little crabby in the strictly mood-related sense of the word). Shoulders, arms, no problem there. His chest, not currently covered by any sort of clothing, is looking just a tad more blueish and... transparent than it should.

Opacity only decreases from there, making Phil entirely light blue and see-through below his stomach. Below the waist it looks like he's been torn and tattered, his body segueing into a thick bundle of thin tentacles where his legs should be.

Or in other words: Philip, now with roughly 65% more this.
]

How is that even--

[ The blue tentacles whirl around as Philip turns and spins nervously in front of his algae-encrusted mirror, placing his hands behind his back to confirm that there is indeed nothing whatsoever between the front and the back of his body.

He spins a few more times before letting himself drift onto his mattress with resignation.
]

...I want my organs back.

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September 2020

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