Van Grants (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faterecanted) wrote2012-01-06 12:23 pm
faterecanted) wrote2012-01-06 12:23 pm
[Voice]
[The first thing that appears in the journal is a big, thick ink smudge, sort of like it's been fingerpainted by large, clumsy hands -- because it has.]
[A few moments later, when it becomes clear it just isn't going to happen, Van speaks. His voice is a rough, dry croak. Either he hasn't spoken in weeks... or he's overused it to the point of ruin.]
Tear. ...Tear.
[A bit later still, when he realizes he's drifting off and he does not want to pass out--]
What day is it? [Not that the answer will mean anything to him, thrice-damned nonsense calendar.]
(OOC: Reluctant first aid reserved for Tear, but feel free to answer him. He'll talk, he just won't accept help from anyone else.)
[A few moments later, when it becomes clear it just isn't going to happen, Van speaks. His voice is a rough, dry croak. Either he hasn't spoken in weeks... or he's overused it to the point of ruin.]
Tear. ...Tear.
[A bit later still, when he realizes he's drifting off and he does not want to pass out--]
What day is it? [Not that the answer will mean anything to him, thrice-damned nonsense calendar.]
(OOC: Reluctant first aid reserved for Tear, but feel free to answer him. He'll talk, he just won't accept help from anyone else.)