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discedo_logs2008-09-28 02:13 am
staticnotsound.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2008-09-28 02:13 am
Entry tags:
[complete;; closed]
Who: Harry Mason and Simon Tam
Where: Marshall St. Apartments - Lobby
When: Afternoon, while food appears to be missing.
Rating: PG-13 for personal terrors and really awkward men.
Summary: Upon discovering at least part of which Harry can do, he intends to attempt to uncover more about it. Albeit he hardly expects the company of the doctor nearby.
the log:
While food does appear to be missing, Harry has dug into his personal reserves. A few cans of soups and chowders. Not much, but it'll keep them all going for now. If only for now.
He intends to head back to the church soon, to check on Cynthia -- if the scientists haven't come for her yet, anyway -- but.
But.
He's taking a moment, sitting on one of the dusty, old, and torn chairs of Marshall's lobby; in his hands, his broken radio, playing nothing but static at him. Red and dented and meaningless and meaningful.
He remembers. In the hardware store, what happened; he brought out not only one of his personal memories, but something from Kite, too.
Just what is he turning into. Just what is Harry Mason now.
For a moment, he's quiet. He stares intently at the radio.
Static.
Nothing but fizzling snow and.
"...came here for a... looking for..."
The words hiss out from the speakers. His own damned words, seventeen years ago.
Harry narrows his eyes, as if concentrating.
"...don't know what I... be a monster..."
"I could be a monster," Harry says dully to the radio, as if to explain his own thoughts. But he isn't so afraid anymore.
Just dulled. Tired. Angry and bitter and brittle from everything.
When was the last time he laughed and felt good about something?
Where: Marshall St. Apartments - Lobby
When: Afternoon, while food appears to be missing.
Rating: PG-13 for personal terrors and really awkward men.
Summary: Upon discovering at least part of which Harry can do, he intends to attempt to uncover more about it. Albeit he hardly expects the company of the doctor nearby.
the log:
While food does appear to be missing, Harry has dug into his personal reserves. A few cans of soups and chowders. Not much, but it'll keep them all going for now. If only for now.
He intends to head back to the church soon, to check on Cynthia -- if the scientists haven't come for her yet, anyway -- but.
But.
He's taking a moment, sitting on one of the dusty, old, and torn chairs of Marshall's lobby; in his hands, his broken radio, playing nothing but static at him. Red and dented and meaningless and meaningful.
He remembers. In the hardware store, what happened; he brought out not only one of his personal memories, but something from Kite, too.
Just what is he turning into. Just what is Harry Mason now.
For a moment, he's quiet. He stares intently at the radio.
Static.
Nothing but fizzling snow and.
"...came here for a... looking for..."
The words hiss out from the speakers. His own damned words, seventeen years ago.
Harry narrows his eyes, as if concentrating.
"...don't know what I... be a monster..."
"I could be a monster," Harry says dully to the radio, as if to explain his own thoughts. But he isn't so afraid anymore.
Just dulled. Tired. Angry and bitter and brittle from everything.
When was the last time he laughed and felt good about something?