[How long has he been here for? Deoxys doesn't know. He doesn't care to know, either. But for — days? Maybe even weeks — he's slept. He doesn't care if he ever wakes up again. Even though his dreams are plagued with sea monsters and raging waves and blinding flashes of light, being awake means hurting more. For all this time he's been slipping between the deepest sleep and being in that hazy state that sits directly between the sleeping and waking worlds. These periods of semi-wakefulness are full of the hazy sounds of machinery, the sea, and male voices shouting to one another. At first he become restless at the noise, but it's always been so far away, he'd soon begun to feel safe.
Until now.
Footsteps. The crushing, dull pain in his chest starts ebbing back as Deoxys becomes more aware. He heard them, he knows he did; the corporeal sound coming from in his own hiding place. Deoxys becomes rigid with terror, suddenly aware that he's no longer alone. An attempt to sense who or what is there just makes the pain in his chest spike and he stops, his head lulling forward. His powers, they're all...]
no subject
Until now.
Footsteps. The crushing, dull pain in his chest starts ebbing back as Deoxys becomes more aware. He heard them, he knows he did; the corporeal sound coming from in his own hiding place. Deoxys becomes rigid with terror, suddenly aware that he's no longer alone. An attempt to sense who or what is there just makes the pain in his chest spike and he stops, his head lulling forward. His powers, they're all...]