"AGHHHHHHHHH!"
A slicing pain shot straight throughout Luke's arm at the activation of a power thought to be merely a dream.
A pulsing feeling, originating from his hand, slowly worked its way up his limb in horrific waves, bringing forth a type of pain that he had never felt before— matching, if not outright surpassing any pain felt inside that "dream" he was in.
"Agh— w-what.. the.. actual fuck is going on!"
Clenching his jaw shut and grinding his teeth in agony, Luke grips onto the sink for dear life as he thrashes his head back and forth, just dearly hoping for a slight respite.
But none came.
"FUCK!?"
And with the pain, the tight lid capping all his rage and sorrow inside his chest loosens, leaking out some of this built-up agony like a poison.
He brings the hand up, the one that started all this, and swings it down without the slightest thought.
CRASH
Shatter
But unlike his expectations of what would happen, that being a new type of pain being introduced by punching what is essentially a rock, something weird happened.
His hand went straight through the sink, destroying both the bowl and the tap.
He doesn't even register the spray of water that hits him though.
What he does notice is that on the back of his hand, appearing alongside a very familiar runic marking, is a pitch-black darkness spreading like a plague.
And like that, he regained his calm. The storm raging in his mind reached its peak, but with the entrance of a new foreign chaos, he entered the eye of said storm.
He stands more quickly than his unathletic body would and exits the bathroom, nearly ripping off the door handle on his way out.
He quickly enters the closest room to him and turns on a lamp to get a better look at the state of his hand.
Click
Only, it's not only his hand anymore. The darkness spread, reaching quickly over his forearm like a crawling shadow. And although his state of mind has blocked off all emotion to enter a fragile calm, the presence of pain ceases to disappear.
Alongside the pain is something else.
Something almost… familiar?
And as Luke recognises that, an idea sparks inside his mind.
Sitting down, he enters a comfortable position while crossing one leg over the other.
Then, closing his eyes, he focuses deeper. Sinking deep into himself in a way not entirely unlike the one where he called forth something that's proving to be the biggest mistake of the day.
And as he dives deeper and deeper, blocking out all other sensations and thoughts on his mind, the pulsing waves become increasingly clearer.
It became more physical to him, almost as if it were really a wave that he could reach out and touch. The thing pulsing, the foreign yet familiar substance, now that he was more in tune with it—he started noticing that it didn't just have a touch… but also a sound.
A sound that calms the heart to the point of indifference, a sound that makes you want to give up and let something feel take control.
…but that won't happen.
This is something that was a daily occurrence to Luke…to Corvo, in his time at Dunwall, just after he started to consume the runes.
So, with a spark of will, his heart beats with a thunderous roar and sends his blood surging throughout his veins. But alongside that blood, clinging onto all those individual cells, is a new substance that his body isn't supposed to have.
And yet, it functions the very same and obeys him like a faithful servant.
The mana courses through him, pulsating rhythmically, syncing up to the corrupt void energy that his body was so violently rejecting, clinging onto it.
Then, with another burst of intent, his energy expels that corruption in one small cloud of multi-coloured light.
Poof
Phewwww
A deep sigh escaped Luke's lips as the pressure of that malicious energy building up was expelled from his pores all at once.
He slumps down, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall.
But he pauses a moment later, feeling a suspicious wet patch form at his feet.
'What? I didn't piss myself right?! Was it that bad?'
Only after looking down does he get his answer.
The good news? Not piss.
The bad?
"Oh shi-!"
Once again he launches up and out of the room, flying out of the door frame and back into the bathroom.
What enters his vision is a complete mess.
Water everywhere, flooding a large area of the bathroom.
What he does first is grab what his mother firmly insisted were "show towels", and throw them over the spraying damaged pipe.
Next, with confidence that this stranger would be with him at least a minute, he sprinted through the house again.
Jumping down the stairs, catching himself on a bannister to not break his legs, and vaulting over furniture. All moves 'he' usually wouldn't be able to do.
But quickly, ever so quickly, the moves he learned from 'corvo' became increasingly clearer.
Making it to the desired location, Luke opens the drawers one by one, throwing out all useless junk behind him until he gets his hands on what he was looking for.
"Aha!"
Grabbing the two pairs of red grips, he once more rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. Once there he practically tears open the panel beneath the cheap landlord-acquired sink and locates the pipe leading to the broken tap.
Identifying it he grips the isolation point of the pipe and applies pressure to the tools, turning them against each other until stiff as well as until the noise of water escaping the tap disappears.
…
..
.
"Haaaaaaah… what a day…"
Sitting down on the sofa, donning a set of fresh clothes and the dampness of water still present in his hair, Luke lets out a deep mournful sigh for what felt like the millionth time today.
The bathroom situation? Mostly resolved.
"I suppose I need to call someone to come and resolve this, I'm no plumber after all."
He speaks quietly to himself as the dark circles under his eyes show a bone-deep tiredness.
"Perhaps someone on sight will give me a hand, won't hurt to ask and I need to go to work soon after all. But that leads us to another situation…."
Yes, situation number two. Perhaps the most daunting scenario of the day.
His arm. Once coated with a light tan and a crazy amount of freckles, now it looks, no, not only the looks— but the texture, density and strength held in the arm has changed.
But yes, it is the appearance that could cause the most problems currently.
As for the appearance, the arm is completely black. No, not like merely a darker pigmentation, but as black as pitch black, as dark as the night's sky.
"This could be covered up as a tattoo if I hadn't seen anyone for a couple of weeks, but seeing as it's Thursday, I must have been working all week."
Slap
He brings both hands to his face, slapping onto it slightly as he is overcome with exasperation and annoyance.
'Can this truly get any worse… don't answer that.'
Looking down at the watch on his wrist, the time shows 7:48, a daunting time considering he needs to be at work by 8:15.
Already he knows he won't make it on time. The state of morning traffic in the centre of London is horrendous after all.
"Fuck it, let's run."
Deciding to forgo the car, he dons a pair of leather winter gloves and makes way for the door.
…
..
.
"You should have exercised more, Fatty!"