❰ how many loops has he gone through at this point? it's enough to make him groan when he cracks his eyes open, hoping that he'll eventually wake up and see the ceiling of his home in asgard, pristine and bright. no, emil receives the gift of dreary, dark, rotting wood. the visual, the smell...he'd really like for whatever this is to be over.

at least he's awake on a seemingly innocuous bed this time around. it's a toss up whether or not he'll wind up in the tub, the porch, the fog itself. waking up in the bed is always a good sign because at leas that means he can lay there and avoid movement, touching anything, and embrace just existing horizontally.

there is something different this time around, though. he cranes his head upward without moving the rest of his body, curious about the weight sitting on his chest. it's a sizable grey device, smooth and heavy despite it almost fitting between his pectorals. a hand lazily picks it up, emil squinting into the darkened mirror of his new cell phone's screen. not that he knows what it is, but it's a good enough distraction to kee[ his mind focused for the moment. ❱

❰ emil was distracted enough leaving his starter cabin to skip over the pamphlets on the dining table. you would think the gas station would offer even more things for him to stare at, enough so that reading is the furthest thing from his mind, but that's actually why he picks one up with the hand that isn't holding sour cream and onion kettle chips. he's taking everything in; some of the foods and items are familiar, and it's a fun game to see what he does and doesn't understand. not that he wants to let willingly slip that he's on shaky ground here, but...

well, after the first sentence? that's unavoidable. he scans it four, five times. then goes to the next bullet point. it's impossible to remember how many he actually gets through before the visible shaking starts. ❱

This is a joke. ❰ who knows where lalli went; as far as emil knows, he's talking to the air. actually, does he even know he's talking? ❱ A Tyr prank or something. I'm not dying--

❰ the 'again' catches; at this point he does hear himself as the ringing in his ears has calmed down. the pamphlet is crumpled up, tossed to the ground. emil is still strongly of the belief that big, bad things are much more manageable if you keep them at the edges of your mind, even if this particular scenario? that's proving very impossible if his face and body language are any indication. ❱