(no subject)
Who: Jin Shirato (fate_foretold), Fuuka Yamagishi (oneenemyleft)
Where: Horton 212
When: October 15th, evening.
Rating: PG-13 - R?
Summary: Jin finally stops by Fuuka's apartment! ...In order to kill her. But doesn't because he's a fail. And because Fuuka has a crossbow.
the log:
There was something wrong today. Jin was anxious. Couldn't sit still. He just couldn't stop thinking about all the people here. Sitting around, oblivious to the true reality of their lives... they all deserved to die. Painfully. Slowly, this feeling had crept up on him, until it was impossible to ignore. Sure, he'd killed before, but it hadn't been personal. He'd only done it because he had to. Not because he wanted to. Not because he'd particularly enjoyed it. It was different today.
He got up, walked over to the door, opened it. He strode purposefully, calmly, to the end of the hallway, down a few flights of stairs, until he came to the place.
He paused as he approached the door, an almost subconscious hesitation. Was this the room? Did it even matter?...No, just as long as someone suffered. He reached for the handle, but stopped again. It was probably locked. If he tried the handle, the person inside might know he was trying to break in. He withdrew his hand, raised it to the middle of the door, and grinned.
Knock knock.
Where: Horton 212
When: October 15th, evening.
Rating: PG-13 - R?
Summary: Jin finally stops by Fuuka's apartment! ...In order to kill her. But doesn't because he's a fail. And because Fuuka has a crossbow.
the log:
There was something wrong today. Jin was anxious. Couldn't sit still. He just couldn't stop thinking about all the people here. Sitting around, oblivious to the true reality of their lives... they all deserved to die. Painfully. Slowly, this feeling had crept up on him, until it was impossible to ignore. Sure, he'd killed before, but it hadn't been personal. He'd only done it because he had to. Not because he wanted to. Not because he'd particularly enjoyed it. It was different today.
He got up, walked over to the door, opened it. He strode purposefully, calmly, to the end of the hallway, down a few flights of stairs, until he came to the place.
He paused as he approached the door, an almost subconscious hesitation. Was this the room? Did it even matter?...No, just as long as someone suffered. He reached for the handle, but stopped again. It was probably locked. If he tried the handle, the person inside might know he was trying to break in. He withdrew his hand, raised it to the middle of the door, and grinned.
Knock knock.