IRC-Galleria

His mind was suddenly in shambles, his thoughts falling into irrational and unrelated heaps. The crash entry she had made into his space, intentional or not, had passed through him entirely and in an unforeseen manner. He was still in utter confusion, reeling the moments in a random order and growing more and more insecure about himself. This never happens to him. He knew what many of the most granite people he knew looked like when they lost their ability to resolve a situation, and couldn't help but notice it was happening to him. All composition gone, an expression best defined by the spacing gaze and speech lacking all the eloquence it once had. He had been pierced, and the feeling came accordingly. So sudden. So uncalled, so honest.

Unique people weren't anything new to him. Ever so often he'd come across someone, who'd change him permanently in a matter of days or weeks - sometimes even hours. Such a feeling was usually a generally passive, somewhat disorienting, but positive one. This time it felt more like something had passed through his head at the velocity of an aimed projectile, coming at a speed that makes the impact moment irrelevant. He had metaphorically been caught in a pigstick, and couldn't figure what had hit him. There had been no prior warning, no signs of escalation, no sense of danger; just an unexpected slash and he was stripped to the very soul. This was just his vision, of course, in truth he had chiseled parts of himself as they had conversed, and left mere framework to stand. These people could only be a new promising path. And the funniest part was, everyone behind it was entirely clueless.