Being Human RPverse: Drabbles + mini-FST [Men in Grey vs Purgatory]
Title: “Unforgivables”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: G
Summary: half-fanfic, half-fanmix about two powerful organizations of the Being Human world: "men in grey" and "men with sticks and rope" (includes "ghosts in grey" from the Quicksand RPverse by shirogiku and yours truly).
Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to Toby Whithouse and the BBC. Songs copyright of their respective authors.
A/N: I'm just insanely curious about these people!
I
Men in Grey
Foster the People - Houdini
(Raise up to your ability)
I know that you wanna
Cause it was easy to see
Of my ability
(Raise up to your ability)
Yeah you're undecided
Yeah so I can see it
Yeah I'm gonna wipe your mind away
To pick up a body covered in lacerated wounds and missing more than a half of its supply of blood, and to go home for tea and crumpets. That is what this job is really about. Equilibrium.
Arthur has a good head for numbers and a green thumb. He remembers what every shelf and every aisle contain, and he makes a jolly good cup of tea.
“The trick to this job is to avoid losing your head,” he likes to say. “You see many things that make you feel like you’re tumbling down the rabbit hole. You ask yourself many questions. But whether cats eat bats or vice versa, you must remain steadfast and in the know. Or at least act like it.”
Acting is vital. If you act a part out long enough, you might just start living it.
Men in grey are masterful actors.
II
Ghosts in Grey
The Villagers - I Saw the Dead
Have you got just a minute
Are you easily mad
Let me show you the back room
Where I saw the dead
Dancing like children
On a midsummer morn
And they asked me to join
They asked me to join
But my body was stubborn
Wouldn't let me give in
So I offered a good deed
In return for a sin
Jones tells him they bridge the gap between the world of the living and the world of the dead.
“For as long as those creatures have existed, there have been men like us. And for as long as men like us died, there have been ghosts like us.”
The rules are simple: go in, get out, say no, become stronger. After a while it gets easier to pretend the clinical chill of the corridor does not affect him. Sparks roams through the trash heaps of someone else’s memories until he is sick of his own strength. Each time, the cracks in him deepen, but that’s all right. He was never too human to begin with.
After the tenth voyage, there is one thing he knows for certain: death is in need of cosmetic repairs.
III
Men with Sticks and Rope
Muse - The Small Print
Sane, it'll make you insane
And I'm bending the truth
You're to blame
For all the life that you're losing
You watch this space
And I'm going all the way
And be my slave to the grave
I'm a priest God never paid
There are forms to look through and contracts to certify. Hardly enough time for lunch.
The newcomers huddle pitifully in the corner of the room. He picks up the stick and drags it across the bars, making noise. Some heads turn, nervously, like sparrows watching for a cat.
“Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream,” he sings, strumming the rhythm against his clipboard. The sin files are getting thicker.
A young girl is shaking uncontrollably. She is part of the group but she is alone. She looks like a child at a dentist’s appointment. He drapes a blanket around her shoulders. She doesn’t thank him, doesn’t even look at him. He is seldom kind and it’s usually not for nothing, but he lets it slide. Just this once.
Out in the corridor, a colleague is making a pact with a vampire. Things here are never dull.
“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,” he continues, half a tone lower. “Life is but a dream.”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: G
Summary: half-fanfic, half-fanmix about two powerful organizations of the Being Human world: "men in grey" and "men with sticks and rope" (includes "ghosts in grey" from the Quicksand RPverse by shirogiku and yours truly).
Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to Toby Whithouse and the BBC. Songs copyright of their respective authors.
A/N: I'm just insanely curious about these people!
I
Men in Grey
Foster the People - Houdini
(Raise up to your ability)
I know that you wanna
Cause it was easy to see
Of my ability
(Raise up to your ability)
Yeah you're undecided
Yeah so I can see it
Yeah I'm gonna wipe your mind away
To pick up a body covered in lacerated wounds and missing more than a half of its supply of blood, and to go home for tea and crumpets. That is what this job is really about. Equilibrium.
Arthur has a good head for numbers and a green thumb. He remembers what every shelf and every aisle contain, and he makes a jolly good cup of tea.
“The trick to this job is to avoid losing your head,” he likes to say. “You see many things that make you feel like you’re tumbling down the rabbit hole. You ask yourself many questions. But whether cats eat bats or vice versa, you must remain steadfast and in the know. Or at least act like it.”
Acting is vital. If you act a part out long enough, you might just start living it.
Men in grey are masterful actors.
II
Ghosts in Grey
The Villagers - I Saw the Dead
Have you got just a minute
Are you easily mad
Let me show you the back room
Where I saw the dead
Dancing like children
On a midsummer morn
And they asked me to join
They asked me to join
But my body was stubborn
Wouldn't let me give in
So I offered a good deed
In return for a sin
Jones tells him they bridge the gap between the world of the living and the world of the dead.
“For as long as those creatures have existed, there have been men like us. And for as long as men like us died, there have been ghosts like us.”
The rules are simple: go in, get out, say no, become stronger. After a while it gets easier to pretend the clinical chill of the corridor does not affect him. Sparks roams through the trash heaps of someone else’s memories until he is sick of his own strength. Each time, the cracks in him deepen, but that’s all right. He was never too human to begin with.
After the tenth voyage, there is one thing he knows for certain: death is in need of cosmetic repairs.
III
Men with Sticks and Rope
Muse - The Small Print
Sane, it'll make you insane
And I'm bending the truth
You're to blame
For all the life that you're losing
You watch this space
And I'm going all the way
And be my slave to the grave
I'm a priest God never paid
There are forms to look through and contracts to certify. Hardly enough time for lunch.
The newcomers huddle pitifully in the corner of the room. He picks up the stick and drags it across the bars, making noise. Some heads turn, nervously, like sparrows watching for a cat.
“Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream,” he sings, strumming the rhythm against his clipboard. The sin files are getting thicker.
A young girl is shaking uncontrollably. She is part of the group but she is alone. She looks like a child at a dentist’s appointment. He drapes a blanket around her shoulders. She doesn’t thank him, doesn’t even look at him. He is seldom kind and it’s usually not for nothing, but he lets it slide. Just this once.
Out in the corridor, a colleague is making a pact with a vampire. Things here are never dull.
“Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,” he continues, half a tone lower. “Life is but a dream.”