It was like previously being airborne and then plunged into deep water. Flynn’s head sang with confusion and she could not feel or see anything— couldn’t concentrate on it more like. It felt like her brain was going cross-eyed, and she felt disorientated. She could feel Clyde’s mind, but where was her’s? She was not aware of herself, and the primal instinct of her Soulmist being used up was like an annoying tick in her mind. Her mind was not blank, but rather filled up with static pounding. Clyde’s hand twitched as she tried to reach up to grip her head— or Clyde’s, now— between her hands. Her mind slowly came into focus, differentiating itself from Clyde’s. Her first thought was: Ugh. Still rather dizzy, she sluggishly came to her senses. Her ghostly body was unfeeling, somewhat nuanced by the pain she felt whenever some of her Soulmist was stripped away, and now Flynn felt loosely tied to this body. She had to concentrate, as everytime her mind was elsewhere, she could feel her control slipping. She could feel Clyde’s mind, and focusing on maintaining her possession instead of poking at it was like trying not to stare at the elephant in the room. Vaguely, she could feel Clyde’s emotions, but it came out blurred and garbled to her. With blank eyes, she stared at Clyde’s hand and tried to lift it up, but it didn’t even twitch. Move, she tried to command it. It seemed she had totally forgotten how to move, being dead for so long and used to feeling like air. How does one move, again? It seemed so simple, but it completely stumped her. |