Sleeping through nightmares is a common occurrence for Idia, so there's nothing new about that. What is new is seeing Cater among the group at STYX, staring up at his Overblotted form in horrified loathing. "Murderer!" the image shouts, first from one throat and then four, and Idia doesn't bother to deny it. He doesn't whimper or cry out in his sleep, he simply wakes up when the group strikes him down as he always does, sitting there for a long time while staring at Ortho's empty pod. His brother is bright and early to class, of course. Idia will be taking his over the tablet again since his social battery is outright busted.
He finally drags himself to his en suite to clean up, not that he feels like it. Ortho has had to herd him into the shower too often, and the last thing he needs is to fall back into that habit and stress his little brother out. Bad enough that he's shutting himself in more than he was a few weeks ago, but they say healing is a roller coaster and this is a huge dip. A lag spike, as it were.
He brushes his teeth first so the taste has time to wear off (so he won't gag on whatever he decides to eat), then makes his way into the shower. He stands there for a bit, feeling his flames protest the water before finally giving up and fizzing out for now, the hidden mass underneath hanging heavy on his head. Going through the motions on autopilot, he doesn't linger much beyond that, and soon enough he's as clean as he can be. A quick dry off, followed by a towel wrapped around his hips, and he starts to wring out his hair. It'll take a bit to reignite, but it's not like he cares.
So he steps back into his room proper right as the door opens and Cater barrels in, not much to hide Idia's lanky form and absolutely nothing concealing the colorless waterfall of the finest wavy hair hanging past his knees. He freezes, staring blankly at Cater for a few seconds before his hands come up to sort of conceal his torso, blue sparks already starting to dance through his crystal-white hair.
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He finally drags himself to his en suite to clean up, not that he feels like it. Ortho has had to herd him into the shower too often, and the last thing he needs is to fall back into that habit and stress his little brother out. Bad enough that he's shutting himself in more than he was a few weeks ago, but they say healing is a roller coaster and this is a huge dip. A lag spike, as it were.
He brushes his teeth first so the taste has time to wear off (so he won't gag on whatever he decides to eat), then makes his way into the shower. He stands there for a bit, feeling his flames protest the water before finally giving up and fizzing out for now, the hidden mass underneath hanging heavy on his head. Going through the motions on autopilot, he doesn't linger much beyond that, and soon enough he's as clean as he can be. A quick dry off, followed by a towel wrapped around his hips, and he starts to wring out his hair. It'll take a bit to reignite, but it's not like he cares.
So he steps back into his room proper right as the door opens and Cater barrels in, not much to hide Idia's lanky form and absolutely nothing concealing the colorless waterfall of the finest wavy hair hanging past his knees. He freezes, staring blankly at Cater for a few seconds before his hands come up to sort of conceal his torso, blue sparks already starting to dance through his crystal-white hair.