☣There'd been a steady dripping noise resonating throughout your apartment since you crawled into bed. It was driving you insane but you were stubborn and didn't want to leave your pocket of warmth in the blankets. Your eyes are heavy, though, and you need sleep, so in the end your weariness gets the best of you and you get out of bed to check the kitchen and bathroom sinks. Both faucets are dry, though.
It honestly doesn't matter to you however, because after you've checked them the dripping has stopped and you are able to crawl back into bed just before it went cold. Your eyes are heavy, and sweet sleep is about to take over. As you finally fade out you feel something cold, and wet slide down the side of your face, you're so tired, though, and your eyes are heavy. You disregard the slimy substance, writing it off as drool. After all, you're tired and probably have no motor control. You fall asleep with minimal worry.
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Ḓ̢̗̥͍̮͖͇̖̰̪̳̺̳̔̔͛̑͑̄͗̽̾̌̍̾͗̚Ŗ̟͚̪̖̣̟̯̹͉̻̙̲̈̽̈́̀̌͆̑̿̑͐̔̔͝͝I̢̛̗̗͉̩͓̳͎̺̙͇̰͙̓͛͒̃̃́̈́͛̂͌̇̕͜͠P̡̛̛̦͉̫̰͙̯͎̭̥͙͕͎̄̋̈̿̈̃̂̈́̑̓̚͘ͅ.̨͎̪̖͉̝̦̮̰̻̀͊̃͒̋̑́̐̑͐̚͜͝͠ͅͅ ̡̨̡̢͙̳̩̞̜͕̫̞̦͈̉̎̒̅͗̊͊͋̔̅͑͊̓͋D̰͈̞̰̳̞͇̭̹̜͖̥̥̤͋̓̓̀̎̈͒̿̑̕͘̕͝R̢̧̡̩͇͖͓̫̱̫̭̼̔̇̃̌̈́̆͂̐̃͐̃̉̿̊ͅĬ̡͓̳̗̮͙̞̗͙͈̩̹͙̇̿̈́̂͐͌̽͂̒̈͘͜͝Ṗ̨̢̛̙̜͍̘͔̫̪͍͈͉̫͈͆̔͗͒͒̀̓̾͘͝͝.̧̨̭̣̪̤̞̪͉͚͚̮͊̿͐͑̂̐̽̏̄̐̔́͌͜ ̨̧̧̖͈̰̮̝̥̟͖̹͇̝͌̇̔̑͐̅̒̽̇̐̊͝͠Ḑ̦͖̝͎̦̟̬̣͓͎͙͇̀̈́́́̏̈́͋̄̇͑̚͝͝Ȑ̡͉̝̖͖̥̹͓͎̮̜̙͆̔͆̏̈́̽̆̉͒̉͆͝ͅI̡̨̧̛̮̮̗̲̞̱̥̦͈͎̞͌̊̾̓͐̅̀̿̌͑̎̓̒P̡̨͔̹̘͇̮̘͚͙͚͔̦̊̈́̀̐̀́͒̾̍̑͑̇͘͘ͅ.̧̧̧̧͉̳̤͔̻̗͖͉̼̅͐̓͊̔̑̽̋̏͛̕̕͝
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ƲƧЄЯИΔѦЄ: Slimedog.
I currently own four plumerians.
ǤЄИƉЄЯ: Genderless (Masculine).
It/Its/It's & He/Him/His
ИΔѦЄ: Cashile Lector || Cash/Lec/Les.
Cashile is a name meaning "child of a concealed birth".
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☣In the morning your eyes feel ten times as heavy as they were the night before. You feel a heavy sort of lump in the pit of your belly, at the back of your throat. You're colder than ever despite the fact that the apartment is warm. The clashing temperatures of the apartment's air and your body give you goosebumps.
When you slide out of bed you land on the ground with a thud, it was cold the night before, but now it's warmer than yourself. You still feel heavy, you feel sick. Your entire being feels like it's being weighed down with some unseen force. Your vision swims quickly before you regain control of yourself again.
You're about to throw up, and you retch disgustingly without control. Something thick dribbles down your chin, nothing else comes out. Your eyes burn because you feel like you're going to cry, but can't, something is blocking the way. You wipe at your chin, the ooze is bright green, it's lukewarm, it's thick and nothing like what puke should look like. Some more of the substance is starting to slide down your face.
You feel like you're going to be sick again, this time when you retch your eyes sting as a thick substance rolls down your cheek in place of tears. You'd managed to barf up a thick glob of the green. Your nose is runny with the stuff, you don't dare sniffle out of fear.
You're choking and can't seem to take in any air, the slime is still purging itself from your body and puddles down at your feet in sickening squelches and plops. The ooze is turning brown with your more important bodily fluids. You feel lighter than what you did before the ooze took over. A lightheaded feeling overcomes you and then you're slouching against your bed, you feel weak, you can't move. You hear it again just before you close your eyes.
Ḓ̢̗̥͍̮͖͇̖̰̪̳̺̳̔̔͛̑͑̄͗̽̾̌̍̾͗̚Ŗ̟͚̪̖̣̟̯̹͉̻̙̲̈̽̈́̀̌͆̑̿̑͐̔̔͝͝I̢̛̗̗͉̩͓̳͎̺̙͇̰͙̓͛͒̃̃́̈́͛̂͌̇̕͜͠P̡̛̛̦͉̫̰͙̯͎̭̥͙͕͎̄̋̈̿̈̃̂̈́̑̓̚͘ͅ.̨͎̪̖͉̝̦̮̰̻̀͊̃͒̋̑́̐̑͐̚͜͝͠ͅͅ ̡̨̡̢͙̳̩̞̜͕̫̞̦͈̉̎̒̅͗̊͊͋̔̅͑͊̓͋D̰͈̞̰̳̞͇̭̹̜͖̥̥̤͋̓̓̀̎̈͒̿̑̕͘̕͝R̢̧̡̩͇͖͓̫̱̫̭̼̔̇̃̌̈́̆͂̐̃͐̃̉̿̊ͅĬ̡͓̳̗̮͙̞̗͙͈̩̹͙̇̿̈́̂͐͌̽͂̒̈͘͜͝Ṗ̨̢̛̙̜͍̘͔̫̪͍͈͉̫͈͆̔͗͒͒̀̓̾͘͝͝.̧̨̭̣̪̤̞̪͉͚͚̮͊̿͐͑̂̐̽̏̄̐̔́͌͜ ̨̧̧̖͈̰̮̝̥̟͖̹͇̝͌̇̔̑͐̅̒̽̇̐̊͝͠Ḑ̦͖̝͎̦̟̬̣͓͎͙͇̀̈́́́̏̈́͋̄̇͑̚͝͝Ȑ̡͉̝̖͖̥̹͓͎̮̜̙͆̔͆̏̈́̽̆̉͒̉͆͝ͅI̡̨̧̛̮̮̗̲̞̱̥̦͈͎̞͌̊̾̓͐̅̀̿̌͑̎̓̒P̡̨͔̹̘͇̮̘͚͙͚͔̦̊̈́̀̐̀́͒̾̍̑͑̇͘͘ͅ.̧̧̧̧͉̳̤͔̻̗͖͉̼̅͐̓͊̔̑̽̋̏͛̕̕͝[
