(no subject)
Bo Hopper's been a security guard here at Arkham for a little over a year, and decided it was well time enough to take a week off to go camping. He never made it out into the woods, but that's what his cell phone message said, out of touch and back in next week.
It's one week later, and here he is, for his afternoon shift, a little rough around the edges, a little tired, but glad to be back, man. It's good to get back after a good week on your own you can't go home. It's good to go through the old routine, never especially talkative, but a friendly face, serious demeanor no one to miss you, the kind of guy the patients take seriously by virtue of being big and quiet and fair.
A coworker jokes about a Snoopy bandaid on his hand why are you picking at your hands? and Bo laughs it off, that's what got thrown into the first aid kit what's under your skin? after going on a fishing trip hooks with his brother's family, kid nephews, last summer wires and hooks
He goes on his rounds. He does his job. do you want this to stop? He takes his breaks and does his job if you want this to stop and leaves tiny vials throughout the asylum. He gives each one a shake and hides it at key points, camera blind spots, trash cans, and keep your nephews safe places where employees go, guards, doctors won't save you, places where patients go but not the maximum security ward, all the while feeling hooks and wires glad to be back, so glad to be back here, so glad to see smiling faces again.
By early evening you can't go home, the chemicals are seeping out of the hidden vials and drifting through the rooms and hallways of Arkham, and Bo Hopper is wandering through it, the first to feel, and recognize, the fear curling into his brain like so many bits of fishing line dragging and coiling through his arms. He tears at his sleeve, and the scratches and cuts under it are not camping accidents. do you want this to stop? it's not going to stop
It's one week later, and here he is, for his afternoon shift, a little rough around the edges, a little tired, but glad to be back, man. It's good to get back after a good week on your own you can't go home. It's good to go through the old routine, never especially talkative, but a friendly face, serious demeanor no one to miss you, the kind of guy the patients take seriously by virtue of being big and quiet and fair.
A coworker jokes about a Snoopy bandaid on his hand why are you picking at your hands? and Bo laughs it off, that's what got thrown into the first aid kit what's under your skin? after going on a fishing trip hooks with his brother's family, kid nephews, last summer wires and hooks
He goes on his rounds. He does his job. do you want this to stop? He takes his breaks and does his job if you want this to stop and leaves tiny vials throughout the asylum. He gives each one a shake and hides it at key points, camera blind spots, trash cans, and keep your nephews safe places where employees go, guards, doctors won't save you, places where patients go but not the maximum security ward, all the while feeling hooks and wires glad to be back, so glad to be back here, so glad to see smiling faces again.
By early evening you can't go home, the chemicals are seeping out of the hidden vials and drifting through the rooms and hallways of Arkham, and Bo Hopper is wandering through it, the first to feel, and recognize, the fear curling into his brain like so many bits of fishing line dragging and coiling through his arms. He tears at his sleeve, and the scratches and cuts under it are not camping accidents. do you want this to stop? it's not going to stop