#OBVS DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO MATCH LENGTH had 2 get in the mindset yk

[sureihsan-arc]

who: @alarakaplan​​ what: reunited and it feels so BAD where: some street corner or sumn

he was immersed in the world again. forced out of the mental plane by the sun’s cruel glare, forcing consciousness upon him, forcing himself back in his body. a body he did not long to be in. disconnected from it, limbs moving without his permission, forever detached from his mind...  his body did exactly what he did not wish to do: it stood up and cracked its back with all the subtlety of a male peacock. he glanced towards the little camp he had set up -- two dollars left in his ‘tip’ jar, painting stolen. well, $2 while alive is worth more than whatever the fuck picasso made when he was still alive. just about to pick up his utensils and move elsewhere -- a different corner, perhaps -- he caught sight of a certain someone who made him stop dead in his tracks. and only two people would ever be capable of that. only two people would ever bring such a flurry of emotion to ihsan, pierce the mask that he had become. his chest filled with rage... rage and grief and longing and confusion. confusion over rage and grief and longing. oh, but best to ignore it ! “ you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. ” rubbing a hand over his face, the other dropping the utensils he was preparing to move ( however distant it felt, for this body was nothing more than a mere vessel ), he charged towards that shamefully familiar figure before she could charge towards him first -- hell, hopefully before she had had the chance to see him. “ don’t tell me you’re fucking back in chicago. this isn’t your fucking place, brutus. ”  snapping his head up to the sky, addressing the big man upstairs... or whatever he should be talking to, he threw his hands out in gesture to her and called, “ actually, all things that are fucking holy, let me be talking to thin air ! ”  but she was real -- his mind, however sideways it could create the world, registered her as there. and it had become talented at distinguishing the real vs. the fake. and the confusion within it was not the confusion he was so familiar with, so content with.