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discedo_logs2008-02-03 06:50 pm
sciens.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2008-02-03 06:50 pm
[ Incomplete. ]
Who: Hojo [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sciens], Prydain [not_riku_thx].
Where: Bottom apartment on the corner of Gohl and Lander.
When: February 2nd.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Hojo wants samples. Prydain has some! I'm so sorry Prydain-mun for my slowassedness.
the log:
Hojo's shoes had a steady creak to them, old and tattered leather that had never quite worked out the old strains of the material. It wasn't a sound he had really noticed before; now, it seemed oddly distracting, irritating, particularly unusual if only because this world didn't seem to respond to its existence. Where the sound should have echoed, it failed to. Discedo consumed it into its fabric like a sponge.
Hojo took towards the corner of Gohl and Lander, seeking out the broken streetlight to - in some strange ironic undertone, given its shattered state - highlight the location. His fingers distractedly caressed the lines of his pistol, though he felt no particular strain of fear, no real need to use it. It might have been odd. He had, admittedly, never really come to appreciate the severity of death, and given that his own proved to be something of a false alarm, arriving here had done little to discourage that.
If anything, it was rather disappointing that he'd manage to evade an encounter with monsters until this point, but meeting Prydain was sure to be interesting enough on its own. It had been such a long time since he'd had the opportunity to observe the work of a fellow scientist, so enveloped as he was in his own devices towards the end. His own vices. The chance to finally see something by someone of worth, a capable and somewhat-success, was quite exciting. Even if the programming had been defective, one's errors often helped to highlight one's successes.
Hojo had nothing. Prydain would make a pleasing start to rectifying that.
At the light he stopped, checked his watch: still broken, stuck on his time of death since his arrival in Discedo. Then, seeking out the door, he checked the lock. It clicked, gave way, and he let himself in.
Not a sound, no call to let Prydain know he was there.
sciens], Prydain [not_riku_thx].Where: Bottom apartment on the corner of Gohl and Lander.
When: February 2nd.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Hojo wants samples. Prydain has some! I'm so sorry Prydain-mun for my slowassedness.
the log:
Hojo's shoes had a steady creak to them, old and tattered leather that had never quite worked out the old strains of the material. It wasn't a sound he had really noticed before; now, it seemed oddly distracting, irritating, particularly unusual if only because this world didn't seem to respond to its existence. Where the sound should have echoed, it failed to. Discedo consumed it into its fabric like a sponge.
Hojo took towards the corner of Gohl and Lander, seeking out the broken streetlight to - in some strange ironic undertone, given its shattered state - highlight the location. His fingers distractedly caressed the lines of his pistol, though he felt no particular strain of fear, no real need to use it. It might have been odd. He had, admittedly, never really come to appreciate the severity of death, and given that his own proved to be something of a false alarm, arriving here had done little to discourage that.
If anything, it was rather disappointing that he'd manage to evade an encounter with monsters until this point, but meeting Prydain was sure to be interesting enough on its own. It had been such a long time since he'd had the opportunity to observe the work of a fellow scientist, so enveloped as he was in his own devices towards the end. His own vices. The chance to finally see something by someone of worth, a capable and somewhat-success, was quite exciting. Even if the programming had been defective, one's errors often helped to highlight one's successes.
Hojo had nothing. Prydain would make a pleasing start to rectifying that.
At the light he stopped, checked his watch: still broken, stuck on his time of death since his arrival in Discedo. Then, seeking out the door, he checked the lock. It clicked, gave way, and he let himself in.
Not a sound, no call to let Prydain know he was there.