As the light starts to hit, it seems to create a sort of projection behind Hanna. It flickers as if playing an old reel of film, but the image starts to come in more clearly.
Hanna doesn't look much different than he does now sitting before Sheehan, he's still small, though perhaps more solid, younger in the face, his hair cut shorter with tighter curls. That isnt really what would catch anyones eye though, as a blue light emits from his eyes and mouth, pouring out of him as if his head was a lampshade.
If you look closer, tilt your head a little you can see more of him, his own hand clutching the handle of an 8" chef knife, buried into the skin just below his collar bone. Without much hesitation as the wound starts to bleed, he pulls the knife further down in a sharp line, carving himself open in what seems to be a small kitchen, a bit dated with its 70s cabinetry but warm and homey to contrast the small teen on his knees in the middle of it, more blood than just his own soaking into his jeans.
Hanna, the one actually sitting in front of Sheehan, turns his head to try and see what the light might be revealing, but he sees nothing, glancing back at the other man with a raised, cautious eyebrow as if to say 'well? What's the damage?'.
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timeasmymeasure
Cw: self harm/body horror
Date: 2024-11-18 04:15 pm (UTC)Hanna doesn't look much different than he does now sitting before Sheehan, he's still small, though perhaps more solid, younger in the face, his hair cut shorter with tighter curls. That isnt really what would catch anyones eye though, as a blue light emits from his eyes and mouth, pouring out of him as if his head was a lampshade.
If you look closer, tilt your head a little you can see more of him, his own hand clutching the handle of an 8" chef knife, buried into the skin just below his collar bone. Without much hesitation as the wound starts to bleed, he pulls the knife further down in a sharp line, carving himself open in what seems to be a small kitchen, a bit dated with its 70s cabinetry but warm and homey to contrast the small teen on his knees in the middle of it, more blood than just his own soaking into his jeans.
Hanna, the one actually sitting in front of Sheehan, turns his head to try and see what the light might be revealing, but he sees nothing, glancing back at the other man with a raised, cautious eyebrow as if to say 'well? What's the damage?'.