Reviews :
Snake557 : Aww lol! Yeah Sezeke is definitely one for obnoxious nicknames, he never drops it haha
chuckiboo : Hi friend! Long time no see :D Thanks for your support! Yeah, it gets gnarly for a minute here, the fog doesn't really totally lift until well after chapter 180 unfortunately. Good things to come, just gotta trudge through some dark days before hand. As for Flint and Callum, you see them very briefly in between this segment of the saga, though they're only really mentioned in exposition until the very end of this shit show lol.
Song Listened To :
So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth (Art Mix) by Grimes
T/W : This chapter contains hard drug usage
*Chapter 160*
Gideon sucked in a tight, thick inhale and sat up in a jolt of searing, terrified shock. In the black, he thrusted his arms outwards, uttered a loud yell of terror, held his hands over his head and curled in a tuck away from what he felt was impending danger. In the curl away from said danger, he toppled off of his bed, onto the huge, cushiony ottoman of bed framing that hugged his bed and eventually toppled onto the cold tiles underneath. Still hearing the hissing roll of his arena's cell door open in a jarring bang of jolting him clear awake, followed by the final screams that came from Chase's figure, Gideon bugged his eyes in full terror and began to haphazardly scoot backwards on the tile, thus clumsily shoving his back into his nightstand. With such force, the beer on his nightstand toppled onto his head with a thunk, spilled liquid down his front and simulated what Gideon's brain imagined as a spill of blood, only furthering his panic.
"CHASE!" Gideon screamed in full, agonizing terror as he continued to haphazardly scoot backwards, he grimaced in a full splay of now mortified crying and eventually backed into a wall, and as his nightmare only finally released him, he scrunched into the corner of his incredibly massive, dim bedroom and gasped to suck in air as realization only just now graced his blurry eyes with the raw fact that he was, indeed, safe.
Due to Gideon's room as well as everyone else's being so spread apart from each other inside their incredible abode, Gideon's raspy panting was the only sound present, his yells not even reachable to anyone. He flinched as the beer bottle eventually tinkered and rolled back into a settle, after toppling to the ground, and as further clues brought him back to reality, he sagged his spine and allowed his brain to comeback to his body. A dreaded hit of senses he almost wished he had forgotten to tune to, he grit his teeth in the sudden heatwave of pain that coursed all the way up his jaw, in a mess down his spine, all the way to his achilles tendon in his heels, he had entirely forgotten about the blast of tattooing and piercing he had gotten the day prior. His face throbbed, his entire backside was hot with what felt like the worst sunburn of his life, and now his bare front and his underwear were soaked with cold, pungent beer. Gideon heaved a trembling breath through his nose as his limbs shook, he glared across his bedroom and felt that massive swoop of regret hover over him, though only just that. He squeezed his eyes shut and was adamant about not letting himself feel remorse or regret for putting himself in this situation. He huffed a noise of agonizing pain and lurched to a wobbly stand, and once there, just even the stretch of his skin, upon existing and bending, had him feeling as if he had been splashed with acid.
Due to The Block being in a perpetual state of darkened nighttime, and no sense of time anywhere inside Gideon's new abode, no new cell phone, no alarm clocks, somehow he felt as if the world had been put on pause. The only way to assume anyone was awake was the shed of light, the sound of music playing, chatter amidst their massive, shared kitchen, though even that room was almost too far away to hear such things. In the endless, mindless mistakes made, Gideon thoughtlessly swiped his hand to his face, so to rub it from top to bottom in a whole, messy splay of agitation, though as his bigger hand suddenly tugged on all five of his brand new piercings, including the tattooing that had made its way onto the sides of Gideon's face, Gideon recoiled in a further roll of agonizing pain and huffed a startled, raspy, deep voice out into his huge room, such noise that rattled his floor-to-ceiling windows across the stretch. He hunched over himself, held his hands to his knees and whimpered in trembling dread. He knew all this pain would subside, though he fluttered his eyes and remembered the one thing that quelled all of this pain yesterday, the one thing that would easily take him away from all horrible feelings, which included the massive storm cloud of regret that hovered over him in baited wait.
Gideon inhaled a trembling breath, shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, he could feel his imagination broaden, as if due to all of these raw experiences, he was now further exposed and sensitive to any sort of energy in the air. Because of this, he almost felt as if he had turned into a satellite dish, and whatever darkened frequencies he picked up were due to sagging into his reality and making their presences known, whether they be auditory or visual hallucinations, Gideon could feel himself on the brink of it and began to allow panic to come rushing back to him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he messily groped his bathroom wall for the light switch, to which it slowly rolled into a dimming effect that came to a fully powered-on state. He grimaced and peered about his glossy bathroom, though as he pressed across the whole of the matte-black tiles, to his huge wall of vanity mirrors, he long-blinked in delirious surprise and was floored to find that all the amount of icing he had done to his face, the night prior, had greatly helped with the swelling. He inhaled a deep, trembling breath and assessed his new skin, this new man that peered back at him, a terrifying beast of now rugged, battle-worn despair, anger, hurt, hatred, he nearly allowed himself to smirk at the raw creature he had become.
Jukkit's incredibly clean lining of tattoos were something Gideon so greatly admired, his art in general was something Gideon was impressed by, and it was here was he at least glad that this whole experience wasn't due to robbing him of the thing he truly enjoyed at his very core; creating art, in any sense of the form. Jukkit had splayed clean lines that hugged Gideon's jugular and to his shoulders and clavicles, lines that stretched up Gideon's temples to mock his stress-marks, though much bigger, bolder lines that snaked down Gideon's back in the artistic, almost hidden image of a fox-face that glazed down Gideon's strong shoulder blades. Big, bold statement lines that eventually cascaded down his rear, the backs of his thighs, and ending at his heels. The backs of his arms were clad with said intricate, bold markings, futuristic circuitry that Jukkit put an incredible amount of thought into, a collaborative experience Gideon was grateful to have some say in, he admired the work he saw in the mirror. The backs of his incredible hands were ladened with smaller intricacies, though every ounce of Gideon's brand new body tattoo was bold, strong, clean lines that held true to his precise, now cut-throat nature. He scoffed a small chuckle at himself in the mirror, though even with all of this ogling, Gideon wasn't brave enough to look himself in the eye. He avoided it at all costs. Something he was well aware would break him if he ever mustered the courage to do so, he knew doing so would make said rain cloud above his head open with a floodgate of regret and remorse he was adamant to not allow himself to feel.
Gideon finally turned to peer to his shower in a sting of sorrowful desire. How desperately he wanted to stand in the spray of hot water, and though he was technically clean due to the Game Over Arena resetting him, upon winning, he currently reeked of beer and was eager to soothe the intense burning his tattoos were causing him, an immense amount of pain that was keeping him from getting more than an hour of sleep at a time. He fluttered his eyes and could still feel the heaviness from the heroin he injected earlier, an addicting, lovely, warm embrace of shushed sorrow, he squeezed his eyes shut and felt dread course over him. He urgently replayed Jukkit's wise words, about not letting himself get carried away in it all, he wondered if it was something he could lean on temporarily, just to get him through the nonsense of his burning tattoos and swollen piercings. He grimaced in shame and coyly turned against Jukkit's words, he sat down on the closed lid of his toilet and was eternally grateful Jukkit had given him said dose of drugs, it was now something his coding could replicate, much to anyone's detriment. With a nervous, trembling inhale, he grimaced as the tattoos on his rear took the ultimate brunt of this all here upon his sit to the closed lid of the toilet. Knowing laying, sitting, standing, doing anything hurt, and with this, he held out his right hand and summoned a dreaded syringe, so full of Jukkit's pure mixture of dope that it daintily leaked from the needle's tip.
Gideon grimaced, once more, and peered to the nook of his left arm, the crease of the previous injection site. He understood that if he kept his act up, his arms would be ruined in needle marks, though he firmly kept reminding himself that he'd only rely on such a heavy, alluring drug for this small season of time. Just a week or two before the pain healed and everything returned to normal, he could see better nights of sleep on the horizon. Due to still not being used to needles, he exhaled a small whimper of nervousness, steadied himself and hovered the tip of the needle above a prominent vein Jukkit had accessed yesterday. Trying to avoid the small amount of bruising, Gideon sucked in a tight breath and gingerly plunged the needle into his skin, and with a squeeze, he fluttered his eyes in full, unadulterated relief and rushed his body with what he was due to referring to as liquid heaven, just the escape from hell he needed. He sighed, allowed the syringe to empty before pulling out, and as his arm gently bled a little, he fluttered his eyes with the rush of heat, the lovely dump of heaviness that almost immediately erased his pain, he felt his neck finally un-tense without any effort. He felt all of his muscles loosen, though in the toss he took to his bathroom door, which was agape, he jolted clear out of his skin as to just who was standing near the doorway. Due to his new bout of heaviness and calmness, he sucked in a breath and reacted a lot less animated than he typically would, he clutched his chest in said gasp of shock and fluttered his eyes in a daze.
"Ora, you scared the SHIT out of me," Gideon hissed, his voice was raspy and dry, he peered his heavy, delirious gaze to Ora in gentleness and allowed himself to hold eyes with her for as long as she would deem appropriate. Gideon dared to lazily chuckle, he leaned back to the tank of the toilet with a thud and was relieved that the press to the cold porcelain aided in soothing his burning tattoos, "I-I didn't even hear you come in. Guess Jukkit and Albar were right about you..."
Ora sighed through her nose, looked across Gideon's huge, glossy bathroom and twiddled her fingers. Gideon finally assessed her in the hit of light she was in, a lanky, creepy being with sheet-white skin, alongside the beautiful gradient of her grey body tattoo that started at her forehead, Gideon almost found it comical that she was always nude. Though she lacked any visible form of obvious genitalia, no breasts or anything obvious that proved that she was technically naked, he still furrowed his brow and understood that she had skin exactly like his. He wondered if she ever got cold, if she ever needed clothes, if anyone had ever asked her. He inhaled a trembling breath and allowed the drugs in his system to eagerly take over, to numb any shred of sorrow and harrowing thoughts, to not get rid of pain entirely, but definitely take a massive amount of the edge off. He fluttered his eyes in the lovely feelings and felt that, due to his troubles vanishing, he smiled a little and now felt as if he had space in his brain to daintily make a friend out of Ora. He knew Albar meant well and that Jukkit maybe was too hyper-active to level with Ora, Gideon dry-swallowed and dared to be brave, here.
"Ora, are you alright?" Gideon prod lovingly, essence of his true nature was something he felt comfortable displaying to Ora, strictly because she wasn't one to boast any blatant, outward opinions like Jukkit or even Albar at times. Ora gently sagged her eyes to Gideon, and much to his whole surprise, she eased a warm little smirk and looked down.
"I'm okay," Ora's gentle voice soothed, Gideon was shocked to see her now approach Gideon. As she came near, she reached over, grabbed a nearby metal stool and slowly sat down on it, so to sit with Gideon. Gideon heaved a long, tired sigh through his nose and messily put his now empty syringe on the counter next to the toilet, to which Ora glanced at, "Drugs?"
"Yeah, don't tell Jukkit, I'm just..." Gideon felt his speech slurring, the urge to go lay down and fall asleep was now upon him, he fluttered his eyes, felt himself nodding in and out of consciousness and knew to tend to his and Ora's impending conversation first, however difficult, "I'll be going through it, for a little bit... This takes the edge off... Otherwise I'd probably wreck this whole building down."
"Water?" Ora questioned lovingly, as if to insinuate if he should potentially have some, it was here did Gideon feel as if his mouth was dryer than a cotton ball.
"Me?" Gideon gestured to his bare chest, now sticky with the dried beer from earlier. Gideon choked a small giggle and felt kisses of the drug embrace his coding in addictive, collapsing glee, "Yeah I'm thirsty..."
"Go on," Ora gestured her hand cutely and waited for Gideon to manifest himself some water, though as he held out his right hand to do so, Gideon flinched as Ora gingerly rested her lanky white fingers to Gideon's left wrist. Her pupils dilated a bit bigger, she gave Gideon a loving, knowing little smirk, "Left hand."
Gideon froze and felt his world want to unravel. He held his breath and peered hard into Ora's eyes, dilated pupils that were now far easier to peer into, he furrowed his brow and wondered now just what reality he had stepped into. Ora glanced to both of Gideon's hands, the right one opened and ready to receive, the left one lazy and limp. Ora gingerly tapped her lanky fingers to his left wrist, once more, and bobbed a nod.
"Receive," Ora whispered, Gideon narrowed his gaze and desperately tried to gather his boggled thoughts.
"H-How do you know about that, Ora?" Gideon muttered, he had a bit of a temporary lisp due to the four piercings on his mouth, and due to his coding now lazily laced with dope, he inhaled a shallow breath and relished in how dizzy he was becoming.
"Manifest," Ora cutely quipped in knowing, she tapped Gideon's left wrist, once more, "Left hand receives."
Gideon swallowed a hard, dry gulp and now glanced down to the injection sites that began to riddle his left arm, he immediately felt that billowing cloud of regret above him get bigger and bigger, and though he desperately didn't want to cue his thoughts to Kepa, he lulled his eyes closed in defeat and sagged his shoulders. His coding wiggled with dreamy, heavy delight, he knew had he not just dosed himself up, he wouldn't dare allow Kepa's name to cross his mind. He smiled, as if it was all such a far away memory, he knew Kepa was the one to teach him that manifesting was best through his left hand, the hand he received gifts from the universe. He gave Ora a smile of cheeky defeat and nodded.
"You're right," Gideon grumbled darkly with a smirk, he grunted in the struggle to manifest himself a full glass of water with his left hand, and with such, he lulled his eyes closed, tilted his head back and chugged the entire thing in noisy gulps. He gasped in relief and avoided wiping his mouth and chin free of water, due to his sensitive piercings. He set the empty glass on the counter and peered to Ora in rising warmth, bravery flood him, he wondered if he could be the key to getting Ora to open up. He tried to steady his now drowsy thoughts and fluttered his eyes to stay upright, "You, uh... You wear clothes, Ora?"
Ora looked down to the ground, tucked her waist-length black hair behind her right ear, thus revealing a cute, pointy elf-like ear. She almost smiled, though shyly looked off and uttered an almost whispery reply.
"You asked first," She mused, Gideon furrowed his thick brow and understood that this meant that no one else had ever asked.
"What's your favorite color? I can get you o-one of those... I-I don't know," Gideon struggled to grapple at words, he fluttered his eyes and relished in the hit of euphoria that coat his soul in heatwaves of tingly delight. He gestured to his chest and tried to keep a train of thought going, "Big hoodies, they're comfy."
"Hoodie," Ora repeated, she fingered her lip and pondered as she whispered, "Favorite color..."
Gideon lulled his eyes closed and allowed a deep, heavy breath to so slowly escape his now relaxed figure, every ounce of pain in his body was gone, he smiled a little and was eager to hear just what Ora's favorite color was so he could manifest her a hoodie of that color choice and go to sleep. Enough time had gone by to where he was shocked that she had to think about it for this long, though just as he was about to open his eyes and wonder if she was still on track, he felt a rush of color suddenly coat the insides of his closed eyelids. He furrowed his brow in prickled delight as a very blatant, bright show of hot pink swirled about his imagination with a bounce of peppy, girly glee, and with a peel of his eyes, he stared deep into Ora's creepy gaze and locked with her as she crowned a sweet, cheeky little smirk of full knowing. Gideon choked a small giggle and allowed his arms to heavily sag off of his lap in the swing of unadulterated joy he felt in the understanding that she had somehow communicated with Gideon through their minds, the purest form of a playground, their raw imagination.
"Hot pink?" Gideon gawked, he choked out lazy laughter and sweetly lulled his sunken eyes shut, "I wouldn't have guessed that in a million years. That's really... Your favorite color?"
Ora nodded a few times and looked off in satisfied glee, as if just simply discussing it was the thing to make her happy, though Gideon sucked in a huge, deep breath, opened his left hand, and even though the injection sight in the crease of his arm stung, he grunted and easily manifested a hot pink hoodie, a maxi-sized one he knew Ora would drown in, something to keep her warm and cozy. Ora lit up, her pupils dilated in huge, cartoony joy, she stiffened her sit and graciously took the hoodie from Gideon's hand. As she put it on over her head, it draped her cute little body like a circus tent. It was here did Gideon grunt to a stand and lovingly pat her little shoulder as he walked away.
"Looks good, O," Gideon mumbled in a croak of gentle truth, he inhaled a shaky yawn and now began to leave his bathroom, "Sleep..."
Ora gingerly gripped the chest of her new hoodie and smiled, though as she watched Gideon leave, her eyes nervously dragged to the used needle on his counter, the empty glass of water, she grimaced a little and now understood this minuscule, fragile little bond her and Gideon had was pivotal. Never before had anyone, even in her days before Game Over, been able to interpret her thoughts like such, and it was here did she suck in a trembling inhale and understand Gideon's importance here, to the dark web. In her secretive, wistful desire to dismantle the whole of it, to shed light on the city she used to know and love, she gently sagged her hands into the huge, billowy sleeves of her new, hot pink hoodie and gave an immense amount of thanks to the universe for such a pristine, golden blessing in the disguise of Game Over's fifth winner, a ruthless, ruined wrecker with soulful eyes and the promise of a sunny future.
