losthunter | Trapped In Her Eyes ((open within reason))

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Trapped In Her Eyes ((open within reason))

Whenever Hunter has a lot to consider, he paints. And after a discussion concerning magic and how there should be a balance to remember, Hunter has a lot to consider. His mind is occupied with thoughts of Kendra, the witch that cursed him, and wondering if her own magical presence is balanced or not. After all, the kiss that should have broke the curse -- didn't.

And now Hunter lives his life with her magic on his skin.

So, with Kendra on his mind, it is her face that he paints. The captivating eyes that pierced right into his soul.

Since he was using seaweed drenched in greens and blues to create the hazy background behind the face itself, Hunter had taken off his shirt. It is less of a mess to clean up when he doesn't have to worry about getting paint out of his laundry.

It is almost 2 a.m., when he is close to finishing the painting. It is late. He is tired. And he swears, that the seaweed is actually swirling behind Kendra.

That is when the portrait blinks at him, and Hunter realizes that the magic has brought the painting to life. And he is now standing in a room filled with green-smoke and blaring music. Kendra is also there, smirking at him for a moment before she turns and walks away.

"Kendra! Wait!" Hunter realizes that this might be the only moment to talk to her. There is a strange denseness to the smoke, where Hunter almost has to push his way through. Every now and then, he pushes through an electric pulse to the smoke, and it cuts through his body like a thousand little knives.

"Kendra!" Hunter can barely see her anymore, but still knows she is there. He can hear her heels click against the floor, and tries to follow them.

"It isn't time. You should go. Turn back and save yourself." Her voice is like a whisper in his ear. Hunter turns, hoping to see her, but there is no one. He moves again, pushing through another electric pulse of smoke. Again, he can feel the electricity cut through his body, like a dozen little shocks.

"Kendra! I just want to help you." Hunter called out. He felt so tired. But he continued to push forward in his attempt to find the Witch.

"It isn't time."

"When! When will it be time? Dammit Kendra, just talk to me!"

"You should go." Hunter was surrounded by the electric pulses now. But her voice was so close. "Turn back and save yourself."

He pushed forward again, gritting his teeth to the pain. To the course of electricity that seemed to pull him apart from the inside. "Kendra!" He dropped to his knees.

Looking up, Hunter could see her eyes, piercing into him once more. "Sharpen your fangs and your claws, lost one. It isn't time... but it will be. You must wait. You must learn."

Then she was gone. And Hunter was left in his apartment alone again. He was kneeling before his canvas, paint covering his upper body. The electric pulses that he had felt during the experience was real enough, that it still coursed through his body. It pulsed in his veins. Over his tattoos.

He tried to reach out for his phone... but he just wasn't strong enough. Instead, he just fell to the floor and dropped into a deep blackness of sleep.

((ooc: Yes, this scene is open to others. As long as you know where Hunter lives... and feel that your character would find him.))

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It's long after two in the morning that Rhys arrives at Hunter's apartment. He'd hoped to meet his friend that morning to talk about getting him that lawyer, and while he's never been the best at paying attention to normal working hours, it's at least light out when he knocks on Hunter's door.

No answer. Rhys frowns, and knocks again. "Hey Hunter, you up?"

Unfortunately for Hunter, he is still unconscious when morning comes. So that is why there is no answer.

But, since Rhys has been here before -- Hunter gave him a spare key.

Rhys kind of wishes that his ECHOeye could see through things, but alas, he has to open the door to see what's on the other side. He does so, slowly, not wanting to walk in on anything he shouldn't see. "Hunter?" he calls out again. "You home?"

His eyes widen as he sees his friend lying on the floor.

Hunter doesn't appear to be injured in any way. It is hard to tell how long he has been on the floor.

He is breathing. Low and shallow. So that is one good sign.

Rhys looks around the room for any lingering threats before hurrying to check on Hunter. His ECHOeye lights up, scanning his friend to get a better idea of his condition, and he reaches out to lightly shake him. "Hey, buddy, wake up."

The only somewhat threatening thing in the apartment is the large canvas of Kendra, staring down at them.

Hunter doesn't have any internal injuries either. It is the touch that rouses him out of the deep darkness. The world is very blurry as his eyes part open, slightly.

"Rhys?" His voice is deep. His throat is scratchy and dry.

Oh good, he's responsive. "Hey, sleeping on the floor's bad for you," Rhys says, just relieved that Hunter's not in a coma or something.

"I'm on the floor?" Hunter tries to sit up, but an ache runs through his body that confirms -- yes, he had been on the floor for some time.

"Yeah, you were out like a light." Rhys isn't sure whether to help him up or encourage him to stay down, and just kind of hovers awkwardly instead. "You okay?"

Hunter is moving to try to sit up right now, so help would at least reduce the chance of him hurting himself.

"I think so. What time is it?"

"Early. Like seven-thirty or something." Rhys frowns at him, unsure what's going on. Hunter seems unusually... unsure of what happened the previous night.

It is like he is hung-over, even though he didn't have anything to drink the night before. He is just still tired. Unfocused. And thirsty.

But he is able to sit slightly, leaning up against the bottom of the couch for support.

"It was two when I stop painting..." That is at least five hours that he was on the floor.

"Can I getcha anything?" He doesn't have any idea what might help, without knowing what knocked Hunter for a loop in the first place. But it seems right to offer.

"Water?" Hunter knows that he needs to get hydrated.

That, he can do. Rhys finds where Hunter keeps his drinking glasses, and after a moment or two of fumbling around with the faucet, he manages to fill it with tap water. "Here," he says, offering it to Hunter.

"Thanks." Hunter takes his time drinking the water, just so he doesn't get the hiccups from rushing things.

"Could you also grab me a drop cloth?" He points to the corner of his art supplies, where there are a couple. Hunter really wants to cover the canvas of Kendra right now.

Rhys isn't sure what a drop cloth is, but Hunter gives him a direction to look in, at least. There are a couple of cloths over in the corner, fortunately all mostly alike, and he retrieves one, hoping it's the right thing. "This thing?"

"Yes. Thanks." Hunter tries to stand up, and doesn't get too far.

"Would you mind throwing it over that painting, please?" He points at the drying painting of the Witch.

"Uh... okay." He's not sure why, but it's what Hunter wants, so... he tosses it over the painting.

"Thanks."

Hunter nurses another drink of water. "I am sure you have questions. It's alright to ask them, Rhys."

"I'll start with the obvious... what happened?" He really doubts that Hunter just decided his floor looked like a comfy place to call it a night.

"I was magically pulled into that painting." Hunter gestures to the now-covered canvas of Kendra.

"I was trying to talk to her. The woman in the painting."

"Pulled in?" Rhys looks back at the covered canvas, puzzled. He's not totally unfamiliar with doors that appear out of nothing - Vault doors are known to do that, never mind the Nexus doors - but he's never heard of a painting causing it.

"Her name is Kendra. I can't remember if I mentioned her or not to you." Because his brain is still fuzzy. "But she is a witch. The one who cursed me."

"And I believe her magic caused me to get pulled into the painting because it sensed I wanted to talk to her."

"But I couldn't reach her."

"She was always... just out of reach."

"Does that mean she just... didn't pick up the phone?" Rhys guesses, lacking any real useful frame of reference for this.

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