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tampered2006-09-05 12:53 am
bloodyuseless.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-09-05 12:53 am
Log: Ongoing
When; Day after sensory depletion day
Rating; PG?
Characters; Frederick Abberline (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bloodyuseless) and Scarab (noh_dancer)
Summary; TBA
Log;
Chain smoking was not considered a positive thing, but it helped one's nerves - and Frederick's nerves were shot to hell. It didn't seem to be bad enough that Scarab had been out looking for him when she'd been attacked, but now she was intent on getting back at it, and he was incapable of assisting. He had nothing to offer in a fight against a supernatural force - he could aim a gun and dissect a mystery and that was the extent of his skill. His visions were only of use if anyone actually listened to him... and they did not. 'Don't go outside, I've seen premonitions of your brutal rape and murder' had no effect, apparently. It was no wonder she was seeking out more formidable allies.
He did not want to mope about such things, truly. It made him feel pathetic and weak, and it wasn't how he wanted to conduct himself. So trapped between those sides, he ended up just shutting down on himself, becoming cold and detached while his mind tried to decide what to do.
That was why he was seated at the open windowsill, on his second pack of the day. He'd caught himself several times thinking about how the dead could escape this place and go on with their afterlives - but perhaps he already was in hell. Nothing new, he thought wryly, memory flitting to and fro, It's not like I haven't been there before.
Rating; PG?
Characters; Frederick Abberline (
bloodyuseless) and Scarab (noh_dancer) Summary; TBA
Log;
Chain smoking was not considered a positive thing, but it helped one's nerves - and Frederick's nerves were shot to hell. It didn't seem to be bad enough that Scarab had been out looking for him when she'd been attacked, but now she was intent on getting back at it, and he was incapable of assisting. He had nothing to offer in a fight against a supernatural force - he could aim a gun and dissect a mystery and that was the extent of his skill. His visions were only of use if anyone actually listened to him... and they did not. 'Don't go outside, I've seen premonitions of your brutal rape and murder' had no effect, apparently. It was no wonder she was seeking out more formidable allies.
He did not want to mope about such things, truly. It made him feel pathetic and weak, and it wasn't how he wanted to conduct himself. So trapped between those sides, he ended up just shutting down on himself, becoming cold and detached while his mind tried to decide what to do.
That was why he was seated at the open windowsill, on his second pack of the day. He'd caught himself several times thinking about how the dead could escape this place and go on with their afterlives - but perhaps he already was in hell. Nothing new, he thought wryly, memory flitting to and fro, It's not like I haven't been there before.