lemon meringue.

[kongeriget]

Who: Denmark, open to Marshall 301/2.
Where: Marshall 301/2
When: 5 AM this morning through noon.
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: Denmark returns from his stay in the 　 　 　, bloody, exhausted, and maybe slightly traumatized.
the log:

At five AM, the bed dips with an added weight as Denmark soundlessly returns to Discedo, the pajama bottoms he had worn to bed three days ago now stained red and purple and ruined. His body smeared with blood both dry and wet, his back and sides brown with it, streaks decorating his chest, belly, face, neck, matting in his hair, now a solid tangle and handing over his face, flat and heavy. Even at the darkness of morning, the light is too much. He squeezes his eyes shut and, suddenly humanly sore and exhausted, uncaring for the details of where he is or how, he falls instantly asleep.

He wakes again at noon, needing to pee more than he ever has in his life. The room is still to bright, the snow on the windowsill blinds him, he's cold and stiff and hollow and aching, hungry and hoarse and tired and confused. Only subconscious memory swings his feet out and climbs him out of bed, untangles him from the now-ruined blankets and sheets, leads him from his own bed to the bathroom clumsy and stumbling, looking like some sort of cheap horror-show monster.

Once he's relieved his bladder, he flushes the toilet, leaving rusty fingerprints on the toilet all over, is unable to find the effort to close his pants, and collapses with a thunk outside the bathroom door, sitting against the wall and squinting uncomprehendingly at the apartment around him. Only now does he recognize other people around, if there are any: he's been dead to the world—so to speak—from his return to now.