I'm The King of the Swingers

A somewhat concerned looking White Wolf had quietly told him that no... Cass was definitely not standing in front of them, washing her hair with the aid of a watering can... she was in fact likely to be days away. Neither was there a large purple orangutan, dancing the Macarena on Jay's shoulders - did he think maybe it would be a good idea if he got some rest, he'd probably had too much sun.

"Yeh... Sun."

A confused and irritable Alex had reluctantly conceded that there was a gnat's chance he might be hallucinating.
"Don't tell anyone" he'd husked.
"Hm."

Trying to ignore the mouse-sized mosquitoes buzzing around his head - they might have been real, he couldn't tell - he was uncharacteristically chatty over dinner, telling an apparently enthusiastic Efof about a motorbike he'd once 'borrowed' from a policeman and even laughing, loudly, running on the edge of his nerves.
He'd received a few looks - which was, for some reason, actually funny... Funnier than whatever he'd just been saying, anyway.
What had he been saying again?

He wouldn't normally have bothered talking, especially when there was curry in front of him, but he was feeling a bit hyper. Agitated. He drummed on his thighs which made Seymour wince peevishly over at him.

He'd been ignoring the signs as best he could, holding the insistent demon behind a rattling gate, but it had been gaining strength and it was about to seize him.
No alcohol or fags makes Alex a loony boy.
No alcohol or fags. Anywhere. Anxiety at the thought sent his brain-fog machine into overdrive, pumping too much smoke into his mental disco, till it was the only thing he could focus on. They were in the middle of nowhere. The nearest sign of society, civilization... a vending machine... was likely in orbit. He suddenly felt panicky and isolated and hot sweat breached his skin. To take his mind off it he pretended to be listening to whatever Efof was saying - something about really liking the planet.

"Yeah... Yeah. Cool. *Hack hack* Excuse me. *Hack*"

A coughing fit sent him to the bushes to become reacquainted with the, formerly delicious, curry. The spewing of words now replaced with segments of mushroom.
Dammit.
When he was done, relieved, he absent mindedly ran his fingers up and down his staples, letting his fingernails bounce off them as he looked around.
There might not be a pub for light years - though a small part of him was holding out hope that they'd find a fully stocked bar around the next corner - but it really was quite beautiful out here. Efof was right, weird creatures aside, it was pretty awesome. He sat on a rock and looked at the stars.

When he stumbled back into camp about an hour later, he was promptly moaned at by Seymour and scolded by Jay, which just made him more irritable. He issued them a hurt look, and snatched his blanket from the back of Seymour's chair, gits, before bedding down a little way from everyone else.
White Wolf's fur might have looked warm and inviting, and incredibly cushion-like, but that wasn't the point. He didn't want to be near anyone. They were all smeggers.
His mood was swinging more violently than Phil's love truncheon during the glow stick saga.

As he dropped into fitful sleep, half watching ghostly rhinos in tutus circling the crew, he saw a light shining in the distance. Another hallucination. He grumbled at it to sod off, ignored Jaxx announcing something, and finally fell into a proper sleep.

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