he looked in the mirror, pressing his uninjured hand to his facial bandage. his remaining eye looked practically blind, the iris absolutely massive and swimming in his watery socket, crusted blue blood jammed into the corner of his waterline. his lips were thin and chapped, metal canines threatening to burst from between them. he had an olive skin tone, overshadowed by his startling paleness and the deep grey-green peeking from the bandage. he tasted cinnamon - something he was beginning to connect with the building watery feeling in his bowls -- 'suki', he rasped. 'i feel weird.'

suki turned. 'oh no! what's wrong?'
'there's a swimmy feeling down there-- i taste cinnamon.'
'that probably means you need to pee. bathroom's over there. are you gonna need help?'
'n- no.' he felt hot in his cheeks. 'at least, I don't think so.'

note: his raspy voice is how he got his name! although he says it's short for 'rasputin'. absolute cornball!!

happy holidays - mine have been ugh. no good payout