and i’m pins and i’m needles
who; Raimi Matthews and very, very OPEN.
what; “Not all who wander are lost.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien
where; The Junkyard.
when; Sunday, after Porn Hour.
warning(s); All the cursing and Raimi’s usual offensive nature, I guess.
Smoke and wires stayed behind at home. If one could call it that. Raimi could hardly even consider that place to be a temporary living situation, let alone a place for him to consider home. Just a room with four walls and some electricity running through it. No strings attached.
For all of the slacking he did at work, how it was that he had gotten to the point where he needed something to do to keep occupy his time was beyond anyone’s guess.
Besides jacking the network with a flood of Japanese porn sites, that is.
But his hands were idle, and his brain needed to function. His so-called processors were getting rusty. Needed an update. Maybe run a utility repair or something. Fuck. Anything would be better than nothing.
What he needed was a reminder.
Some piece of home.
A memento that he was still here.
amazing grace
how sweet the sound
If what Anon had told him was right, then that meant he could potentially find it here.
The protective suit proved to be baggier than what Raimi was used to these days. He missed his stuff and all of his old clothes, but they wouldn’t accommodate him out here in the Junkyard, wading through all the crap in order to find just one thing - just one break was all he asked for.
“Fuck.” Between the radiation pushing in on the suit, the futility of wading through this mile of messes, and the exhaustion... it took every bit of effort in Raimi’s muscles simply to tell himself that it was okay to breathe again. His jelly legs wobbled before letting his ass fall flat over a pile of space debris with an exhale.
This place really was a Junkyard, wasn’t it?
what; “Not all who wander are lost.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien
where; The Junkyard.
when; Sunday, after Porn Hour.
warning(s); All the cursing and Raimi’s usual offensive nature, I guess.
Smoke and wires stayed behind at home. If one could call it that. Raimi could hardly even consider that place to be a temporary living situation, let alone a place for him to consider home. Just a room with four walls and some electricity running through it. No strings attached.
For all of the slacking he did at work, how it was that he had gotten to the point where he needed something to do to keep occupy his time was beyond anyone’s guess.
Besides jacking the network with a flood of Japanese porn sites, that is.
But his hands were idle, and his brain needed to function. His so-called processors were getting rusty. Needed an update. Maybe run a utility repair or something. Fuck. Anything would be better than nothing.
What he needed was a reminder.
Some piece of home.
A memento that he was still here.
amazing grace
how sweet the sound
If what Anon had told him was right, then that meant he could potentially find it here.
The protective suit proved to be baggier than what Raimi was used to these days. He missed his stuff and all of his old clothes, but they wouldn’t accommodate him out here in the Junkyard, wading through all the crap in order to find just one thing - just one break was all he asked for.
“Fuck.” Between the radiation pushing in on the suit, the futility of wading through this mile of messes, and the exhaustion... it took every bit of effort in Raimi’s muscles simply to tell himself that it was okay to breathe again. His jelly legs wobbled before letting his ass fall flat over a pile of space debris with an exhale.
This place really was a Junkyard, wasn’t it?