I shifted restlessly.
My bugs ran into a wall of Brian’s darkness in the living room, on the couch.
Oh hey, this ought to answer one of my questions from last time: If Taylor’s outside and the bugs are inside, is her control still weakened?
I could feel it seep through them, tracing their internal organs. I didn’t move them further. I didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping.
Fair enough.
He wasn’t. A hand settled over my bug and covered it.
Oh, hey!
I felt him scoop up the cockroach and lift it into the air, holding it on the flat of his palm. The darkness dissipated, and the cockroach heard the bass rumble of his voice.
Taylor seems to have been quietly phasing in accepting some visual and audio input from the bugs, though not enough that she’s been able to use it to much effect.
I made myself rise from the bed. My ribs didn’t hurt anymore, and my burns were gone, but my muscles had kinked up from my sleeping in the fetal position on a piece of furniture meant for sitting.
Or, I suppose she doesn’t really so much accept the input so much as sense that the bugs are sensing things. With hearing, especially, that’s not too surprising considering sound is air vibrations.
I stretched as I made my way to the living room. He was sitting on the couch with his feet firmly on the ground.
How you feeling, dude?
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