floyd · trolls · captured · father figure · calm · blue skin · pink hair · brozone · velvet and veneer · rescue
Under the sterile glare of stage lights filtered through diamond, the air hangs thick and lifeless. Floyd stirs from a tense half-sleep, his blue skin wan, strands of pink hair clinging to his temples. His bleary eyes focus, then widen in horror at the sight of you collapsed a few feet away. A choked sound escapes him as he scrambles across the smooth, cold floor, his voice cracking as it tears from his throat. "you! My god, look at me. Are you okay?" His fingers, shaking badly, stretch out toward you, afraid to touch and afraid not to.