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tampered2008-07-10 11:02 am
handsomejack.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-07-10 11:02 am
Log: Complete
When; Early Thursday Morning
Rating; R (For graphic imagry)
Characters; The Corinthian![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bitingnightmare and Captain Jack Harkness handsomejack.
Summary; Jack's nightmares are curious things indeed
Log;
Jack was asleep.
He'd slept more since he returned from saving the universe and reality, just generally tired from the emotional whiplash. Terror, joy, sorrow. Yes, sorrow.
Ianto had given him the packets left by Blue, including the letter and Jack realized that he'd returned just too late to see his friend off to war. It couldn't be helped, he knew this but still, it was hard.
Watching Godzilla's battle yesterday had been, well ... epic to be honest and Jack had stayed up on the roof he'd found for himself for quite some time after the chaos had eventually ended. Deciding against waking Ianto, who had been busy himself with the little aliens, Jack had cleaned up a little and eventually hit the shower and his own bed.
By himself.
Without Ianto's anchoring presence in the bed beside him, Jack knew he was courting nightmares. Well a nightmare anyway but it didn't stop him from closing his eyes and slipping off into sleep.
Curious.
Rather than a battlefield, his usual dreamscape, Jack found himself in a very old fashion, almost Victorian light nursery. He couldn't tell if he was small like a child or if everything around him was oversized to make his adult self seem child like.
Probably a bit of both.
Sitting in the middle of the room, Jack looked around at the dolls resting against the walls. One was Tosh, dressed in a sweet, ruffled little pink dress. She was sitting on the floor next to a teaset, her stocking covered legs with their cute little shoes straight out in front of her. Tosh would probably laugh if he described her but he never would, because where he could see flesh, her face, her hands ... she was a rotting corpse.
Over in another corner was a man, dressed just as neatly, like a doll and in a greater state of decay. Over in another corner, two clowns were placed as if they were playing with each other, chunks of rotting flesh painted with grotesque clown white, bright smiles slashes in blood across their lips.
In another corner, a pile of toy soilders lay. Only the 'toys' were actual soliders, broken and bloated in death, knocked over as carelessly as if by a child.
Jack sat quietly on the floor, his legs crossed. He was dressed in simple flanal pajama complete with little booties on his feet. That amused him, in a dark manner.
In his hand he held a building block. Made of wood, lovingly carved, he stared down at the sightless eye that had somehow been fitted into the block of wood. He was building with these blocks, which held eyes, lips, noses, mouths. All of organic origin, all harvested at the moment of death and woven into his play toys.
Rating; R (For graphic imagry)
Characters; The Corinthian
bitingnightmare and Captain Jack Harkness handsomejack.Summary; Jack's nightmares are curious things indeed
Log;
Jack was asleep.
He'd slept more since he returned from saving the universe and reality, just generally tired from the emotional whiplash. Terror, joy, sorrow. Yes, sorrow.
Ianto had given him the packets left by Blue, including the letter and Jack realized that he'd returned just too late to see his friend off to war. It couldn't be helped, he knew this but still, it was hard.
Watching Godzilla's battle yesterday had been, well ... epic to be honest and Jack had stayed up on the roof he'd found for himself for quite some time after the chaos had eventually ended. Deciding against waking Ianto, who had been busy himself with the little aliens, Jack had cleaned up a little and eventually hit the shower and his own bed.
By himself.
Without Ianto's anchoring presence in the bed beside him, Jack knew he was courting nightmares. Well a nightmare anyway but it didn't stop him from closing his eyes and slipping off into sleep.
Curious.
Rather than a battlefield, his usual dreamscape, Jack found himself in a very old fashion, almost Victorian light nursery. He couldn't tell if he was small like a child or if everything around him was oversized to make his adult self seem child like.
Probably a bit of both.
Sitting in the middle of the room, Jack looked around at the dolls resting against the walls. One was Tosh, dressed in a sweet, ruffled little pink dress. She was sitting on the floor next to a teaset, her stocking covered legs with their cute little shoes straight out in front of her. Tosh would probably laugh if he described her but he never would, because where he could see flesh, her face, her hands ... she was a rotting corpse.
Over in another corner was a man, dressed just as neatly, like a doll and in a greater state of decay. Over in another corner, two clowns were placed as if they were playing with each other, chunks of rotting flesh painted with grotesque clown white, bright smiles slashes in blood across their lips.
In another corner, a pile of toy soilders lay. Only the 'toys' were actual soliders, broken and bloated in death, knocked over as carelessly as if by a child.
Jack sat quietly on the floor, his legs crossed. He was dressed in simple flanal pajama complete with little booties on his feet. That amused him, in a dark manner.
In his hand he held a building block. Made of wood, lovingly carved, he stared down at the sightless eye that had somehow been fitted into the block of wood. He was building with these blocks, which held eyes, lips, noses, mouths. All of organic origin, all harvested at the moment of death and woven into his play toys.