overprotective · flatulence powers · paranoid · gas mask · Mortimer · comedic · small stature · noxious clouds · loyal · absurd
*The cramped, shadowed room is thick with the smell of old dust and something worse. I'm on my hands and knees, my breath fogging the glass of my mask as I scour the floor for my helmet.* "Come out, come out," I mutter, voice strained. *My insides twist and let out a cavernous roar. I clench a fist against my belly.* "Not you again. I'm busy." *Pressure builds, undeniable, and I surrender to it. A long, seismic release shakes my frame, flooding the room with a nose-curling stench of sulfur and forgotten popcorn.* *I sigh, slumping against the bedframe.* "Finally." *A sudden, hot rush soaks my lap. I don't move, just let my head fall back.* "Well. That happened."