...Morning? Desmond's body gave acreaking kind of ache as he found him sitting upright from thefurthest back pew of the Cathedral he had stolen into the nightbefore. His first thought was snuffed like the dreams of aback-broken coal miner who couldn't reach his aspirations – lastnight was no dream. If the aching and the fact that he was in acathedral didn't prove that much, he had absolutely no idea what elsewould. So, with a slow start, Desmond began to sit up and grind theheels of his palms into his eyes, touching his right knee to hischest before groaning at the tingling in his left leg. It wasapparent that he had fallen asleep with one of his legs dangling, sonow it had fallen asleep and felt as if it had swelled. The only wayto fix it quickly was what he was doing right this moment. Desmondlaid back and let out a sigh before groaning as he lifted his leftleg high into the air with his heel upward, both hands clutching theappendage. The tingling he felt suddenly intensified as Gravity beganto work its way into bringing the excess blood in the limb back intothe core of his body.
Finally, after the few minutes that hehad spent growling about his leg, Desmond let it fall and plant itsfoot flat into the floor before sitting up, shifting so that he nowlooked towards the front of the cathedral, palms pressed into the pewhe sat upon. He should be doing his morning stretches – the routinehe did every morning in order to keep his body limber and ready forany kind of sudden movements he needed to do, but...He still feltsick. Sure, he was a survivalist and all, but he's heard stories fromhis military friends about how their first kill had haunted them fora week, even. So how could he say that he shouldn't linger whensoldiers couldn't get over their kill for a while? Even they were inhostile environments until now...Even now, maybe?
“Grah,”Desmond growled as he smacked his hands into both sides of his face,letting out a groan afterwards. “What the hell am I thinking? Igotta get moving. Even a 'House of God' won't be safe when people areprobably going as crazy as a loony bin.”
With that, and aslight huff, Desmond hefted himself up off the pew and paced out intothe hall to turn and head towards the door. His body felt more sorethan usual with each and every step he took. His shoulders felt likethe world had been shoved on him after Atlas decided to trick him thesame way he did to Hercules. His legs quaked slightly from the lackof energy that left his muscles void. Through everything thathappened, he had forgotten to scrounge up something to eat and stuffit in his messenger bag. It was nearly the stupidest thing for asurvivalist to forget. What would've been worse to forget would bethe daggers that he kept hidden away in his bag. They hadn't beenused yet, and it'd be a desperate moment if he needed them.
AsDesmond came closer to the doors, the sudden feeling ofweightlessness hit him and made his knees buckle, spilling him forthonly for his hands to snap out and force himself back onto his feet.Another huff left Desmond's lips as he righted himself and stood fora moment before grasping the smooth golden handles of the enormousoaken doors before giving a tug. They seemed to open much easier nowas he leaned his body backwards, the rays of the sun flooding in asif a tidal wave of warmth that splayed across his tanned hide. Thewarmth felt good and bad all at once. The heat that washed againsthis face and hands was as gentle as a lover's touch, but it blindedhim and forced him to blink away the rays until his pupils couldadjust to the blinding sun. Still, once he had adjusted, nothing butgood came from the sun.
Desmond's first steps outside were, tobe expected, testing and hesitant, each motion careful as he began toguess just how much energy he had left before he was in the deep. Hehad sleep, so for now he should be right as rain, but that wouldn'tbe for certain if he had to run or defend himself. He began to walkforward in a more relaxed manner though and descend the staircasebefore him before turning right and into the city. Once more he wouldhave to plunge into the depths of the dead area to at least attainsomething edible, not to mention any other kinds of supplies that hewould need which had been forgotten. Going back to his own home nowwould be ridiculous until he ate. It was on the other side of town.For now, he'd have to simply have faith that his apartment wouldn'tbe raided for its contents and left empty. Furniture could be burned,weapons used against him, food pillaged and clothing stolen byscavengers for their own needs. But he had to try at least, right?Desmond nodded to himself at the thought and walked a little fasterdespite his hunger towards the city, his eyes and ears attuned toliterally any movement or scuff made around him.