Comments | crowdedhour: what's the point in all this screaming?

mulder_trustno1 in crowdedhour

what's the point in all this screaming? | no one's listening anyway

Sep 23, 2009 20:49

Characters: Fox Mulder, Camel
Rating: Uh, maybe PG-13 for language
Time Period: Modern
Location: Cemetery
Relative Date: Night of the [dance] directly following this
Status: Closed. Completed! <3

Mulder really couldn't run anymore.

It didn't help that he was searching blindly, and only on a whim at that. It finally struck him, as his lungs started ( Read more... )

camel, fox mulder

Comments 32

talkingcamel September 24 2009, 03:56:15 UTC

Camel knew many languages. All of them, in fact. He prided himself in being fluent in all languages, dead and living alike, and somehow never really fell out of practice as the seasons faded into eternity and he refused to speak.

He could recognize any language, slip into it almost subconsciously, understand the other speaker as if their native tongue was his as well. As a matter of fact, Camel had no native tongue, at least not one he would claim.

But if he were to claim one, it would be the language he heard now, echoing through the gravestones and pulling him away from slumber. It was the first language he had learned, the day of his birth, the day when he knew his life was not one meant to be free of sorrow.

It was the language of grief.

He lifted his head, slowly, letting it hover just above the headstone he had fallen asleep behind, his gaze resting on the face of a man who's face was filled with pain.

Camel steadied his gaze, his eyes filled with as much sympathy and concern as he had felt for anyone here.

mulder_trustno1 September 24 2009, 05:02:26 UTC

Mulder found himself on his knees in the grass and the dirt, not giving a damn about the tux, not giving a damn about much at all, really.

He stared at the ground. There were dead bodies buried underneath there, and the mystery of what had happened to them after their death was when no one still part of this world was ever going to solve. Usually that would put it right up his alley - something he could find answers to that no one else could. Here, he was as clueless as anybody else.

"I'm alone, Scully," he moaned. "I don't know how to do it without you."

It was a strange sensation, the one of being watched in a graveyard at night. It didn't fill him with any fear - there wasn't much he could think of to be afraid of at this point. It was just a curious sensation on top of what he had thought were entirely dulled senses.

He looked back up to see a very strange shaped head staring at him through the gloom.

Mulder blinked.

What?It was a camel, there was no mistaking that much. As if that weren't strange enough, it was ( ... )

talkingcamel September 25 2009, 06:46:56 UTC

Camel tilted his head, ever so slightly, examining the man intently. He'd met a lot of interesting humans during his stay in the castle. He had the luxury of observing confusion, anger, and even kindness, on a level he had never been able to before.

Until he came to the castle, Camel had only been able to look upon humans as selfish, single-minded bipeds consumed with the need to control and destroy anything that they could grasp. Until he came to the castle, Camel had never entirely understood what it meant to be human ( ... )

mulder_trustno1 September 25 2009, 13:53:23 UTC

The camel was certainly a big guy, Mulder observed, as it made its way around the grave. And... it was wearing... a top hat...

Well then.

The camel looked between Mulder and the grave after sitting down next to him, as if asking a question.

"No, it's not hers," Mulder said with a sigh. "Her body disappeared. I don't think they can bury bodies that stop existing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to hope that meant she wasn't gone, you know, but it might be the most definitive proof that she is." It pained him to say it aloud much more than think it. "And if she is, then what?"

Thread 32