[charloft] (SUN) The End
October 31, 2039
He expected to be vindicated…but he didn’t expect there to be joy.
There was no pain, no chill or discomfort of any kind, at least not yet. Eventually the nerves would respond and he would hurt, he’d beg for it to end but he wasn’t there just yet. It was a blessing, this reprieve…this chance to say goodbye.
Turning slowly, he took in the dark, rank alley that stank of old garbage and stagnant water. Beneath it was the true scent of the chilly desert night, crisp and clean. It was a good smell, nasty and promising as it filled his lungs for the last time. Good lungs they were, too, lungs and flesh and bone that had served him well and served the world still better…
Oh. That part wasn’t good, falling to his knees without meaning to do so. His shirt was wet now, wet and dark and somewhere he could hear someone screaming. It wasn’t him…it didn’t matter.
Next time, there’d be screaming, too. Screams of pain and terror, shrieks of joy and triumph. He would know the feel of blood in his veins again one day. His only regret was that this trip had been so horribly short. Too terribly short, this time.
Arms wrapped around him…yeah, he was on his back now. The sky was black, no stars. Too many lights for stars, he hated that.
He found the eyes he wanted, just over him as familiar arms held him close. It was starting to hurt, he was no longer able to breathe thanks to the bullet wound in his chest, thanks to the blood coating everything in viscous red.
At least he could be grateful that the man who accidentally shot him was a cop.
Reaching up to the face, pale and fuzzy in his dimming vision, he smeared a soft cheek in more red as he smiled. There was joy in the pain, bittersweet tears of farewell in his eyes and in his heart.
“I…have to go.” He wheezed, a cough flecking his lips with blood. “But I’ll…be…right back. I pro…”
He was out of time as he finished his oath in the poplar fields of the Underworld, then wasted little time in seeking out Hades.
He had a bone to pick with that son of a bitch before he made his way back to Earth again.
NOTE: ...and on this note, we turn our attention to a brand new Tommy! :P No, this journal isn't retiring or anything, but another muse in my head got loud and so I'm just using this as an excuse to pimp him. :P Meet Nico Contarini, blackstone_jr. He's a successful Italian actor living and working in Los Angeles, a member of the Fraternity...and for the record? The eerie resemblance to another deceased Frat brother is no coincidence. :D
Tommy Karras
Original Character
He expected to be vindicated…but he didn’t expect there to be joy.
There was no pain, no chill or discomfort of any kind, at least not yet. Eventually the nerves would respond and he would hurt, he’d beg for it to end but he wasn’t there just yet. It was a blessing, this reprieve…this chance to say goodbye.
Turning slowly, he took in the dark, rank alley that stank of old garbage and stagnant water. Beneath it was the true scent of the chilly desert night, crisp and clean. It was a good smell, nasty and promising as it filled his lungs for the last time. Good lungs they were, too, lungs and flesh and bone that had served him well and served the world still better…
Oh. That part wasn’t good, falling to his knees without meaning to do so. His shirt was wet now, wet and dark and somewhere he could hear someone screaming. It wasn’t him…it didn’t matter.
Next time, there’d be screaming, too. Screams of pain and terror, shrieks of joy and triumph. He would know the feel of blood in his veins again one day. His only regret was that this trip had been so horribly short. Too terribly short, this time.
Arms wrapped around him…yeah, he was on his back now. The sky was black, no stars. Too many lights for stars, he hated that.
He found the eyes he wanted, just over him as familiar arms held him close. It was starting to hurt, he was no longer able to breathe thanks to the bullet wound in his chest, thanks to the blood coating everything in viscous red.
At least he could be grateful that the man who accidentally shot him was a cop.
Reaching up to the face, pale and fuzzy in his dimming vision, he smeared a soft cheek in more red as he smiled. There was joy in the pain, bittersweet tears of farewell in his eyes and in his heart.
“I…have to go.” He wheezed, a cough flecking his lips with blood. “But I’ll…be…right back. I pro…”
He was out of time as he finished his oath in the poplar fields of the Underworld, then wasted little time in seeking out Hades.
He had a bone to pick with that son of a bitch before he made his way back to Earth again.
NOTE: ...and on this note, we turn our attention to a brand new Tommy! :P No, this journal isn't retiring or anything, but another muse in my head got loud and so I'm just using this as an excuse to pimp him. :P Meet Nico Contarini, blackstone_jr. He's a successful Italian actor living and working in Los Angeles, a member of the Fraternity...and for the record? The eerie resemblance to another deceased Frat brother is no coincidence. :D
Tommy Karras
Original Character