π ππππ πππππ ππππ. . . (SPOILERS)
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SEEN IRON LUNG. PAGE WILL CONTAIN HEAVY SPOILERS FOR IRON LUNG. he/him PARODY ACCOUNT
Mun's Pronouns: He/They
Joined December 2020
TEMP PIN. SIMON, THE CONVICT. HEAVILY HEADCANONED PORTRAYAL. THIS ACCOUNT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE 'IRON LUNG'. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
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eyes dart around, hands coming up to rub his forehead as he tried to think. "...what did i used to be called? do not say 'convict'." fingers point at the double. he's referring to 'the butcher' nickname.
Another wince. Christ, no wonder people don't like him ... βCould you not .. yell.α£ Please.α£β A sigh, rubbing his arm. β...Is there somethin' I can do to prove it.α£β
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the words coming from his double only made him feel worse, head shaking once more. "no.. no, you can't just say that-- you're not suppose to.. there's no way you're real!" he's yelling, like he has been for the duration of this trip. except now, it's directed at himself.
Simon winces. Hearing such insecurity, such fear, in his own voice.. he hated it. Say something, damn it.α βI..β He swallows the lump in his throat, and forces out quiet - hoarse sounding words. βI.. don't blame you.. f'thinkin' that. ..B-But, uh ... m'probably the realest --
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the slitted eyes and clawed fingers gave him the impression of not so, but he doesn't feel the need to comment on it. especially due to his condition. eyes squinted, looking at the base along with a somewhat relieved sigh. "good.. thank goodness."
viper walks with purpose , his posture uncannily perfect , dancing the line between human and not . " weβre not far now , just up ahead . " and heβs correct , their approaching a rather secure looking base , soldiers stationed about .
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hand places over his shoulder wound, wincing and gritting his teeth in pain. "when you're down here for so fucking long, you get creative.." somewhat sarcastic, glaring at the other.
" Oh , don't be such a baby . You're fine . " It lets go, but not before clicking its tongue in annoyance. Blood pools over the punctures. It can't help but smile a little. " You have a very strong imagination . "
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he'd slowly stand up, hands rubbing eyes once again. his head shakes, breathing picking up. "..no... no, you're not real."
This whole thing is fucked, he knows. Maybe he'd talk about it, but he's just.. so tired. So disoriented. Attempting to find his words again, he failed. Just .. silently standing there, now.
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hearing the other's voice-- his own voice, back to him, causes him to come back to reality hard. eyes widen, posture straightening as worry and confusion forms across his face. "what the..."
The other doesn't move. His eyes dart away briefly, but that's about it. A moment, before the pale man shrank back a little. β..Just- Just stay ... over there.β
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the feeling of concrete scrapping his back brings him some clarity, wincing in pain. "hmm.. wha--" he's still not all here.
β β All he could feel was concrete, scraping against his back as he was dragged away somewhere . He could only tell he was inside a building once the light dimmed, and he heard the shutting of a door . β You alright there .α£ β A muffled voice . β β
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(fingers start to tap against leg, head shaking at the other's words.) no kidding... i was to be sent down, in a submarine that was welded shut, only a camera and a map telling me my surroundings.
... definitely sounds like they were taking advantage of youγman... i mean... what's it matter to them if some convict ends up getting killed on a mission like that ββ rightοΉ better it be you than one of their men. it's so π§πΆπ€π¬π¦π₯.
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he doesn't register the pain, until he turns his head to see it. the mere sight of it causes him to let out a yelp of his own. "what the FUCK--" the pain is real, and definitely the same could be said for the other.
The jolt makes him yelp in surprise and claw at the closest thing to not tumble too far, making the firm, sharp grip land square on β and, partially, /in/ β the other's shoulder. " I may not be a hallucination but you are definitely concussed if this is a regular occurrence ! "
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