[jmm] 27.10.3 - susan boyle lyrics
And though I may not
Know the answers
I can finally say I am free
And if the questions
Led me here, then
I am who I was born to be
And so here am I
Open arms and ready to stand
I've got the world in my hands
And it feels like my turn to fly
==========
NOTE: Channing is what_its_not and is mine to use and abuse.
It was never going to go according to plan.
He was on his back, tied to a chair by one hundred feet of rope that was now swollen and hot due to the fact he was laid out at the bottom of a two foot deep hot tub. Above him, the sun had been a wobbly, waterlogged dream, air a distant memory as he held his breath and struggled against his bonds.
And he was starting to realize, as the wraiths came, that things were never again going to go the way they were supposed to. They were on him in an instant, forcing him to close his eyes against the way they blotted out the light, demons of pure evil that only he could see. The crowd above the water could feel their power, he could sense the rising tension and knew his reserves were fading the more fearful they became.
His lungs began to protest, too early, too soon. His hands and feet continued to work.
One by one, they slid like ice over his skin, flotsam and jetsam from the void whispering lies and blackest despair in his mind. They dove in and out of that gaping hole in his soul, one of their own making and tried to eat him alive. Fangs in his heart, claws at his lungs, they tried to tear him apart from the inside out and change the content of the energy that was rising.
This was his future, his life from now on. He realized that as he let them come and, very calmly, let the previously uncomfortable heat of the bubbling water fill him. Hands gone numb from the cold, he tugged harder against the ropes until the warmth returned feeling and pain forced him back into caution. Foot by foot, he shook loose his bonds as best he could until both of his hands were free.
He was almost done with his ankles when a wraith sank teeth into his throat and, already too desperate for air, he coughed.
Tommy nodded immediately, the signal to the stagehand in the diving mask that he needed to be pulled out. Hands grasped his arms and hauled him up until he could cough up the water he’d swallowed and greedily suck down a glorious lungful of air.
“Jesus Christ, Tommy! Are you all right?”
He nodded, still hacking as he rubbed at his throat and chest, still stinging where he’d been bitten. No marks were on his body, no blood spilled, but he could still feel their teeth on him, still see the ocean of wriggling, slick black bodies teeming like maggots in the water.
“Did he do it? Did he escape?”
“He was underwater for like ten minutes! He’s probably half dead!”
“No, look! Look! He did, look! His hands are free!”
“Tommy.” The voice was Channing’s this time. “Are you all right?”
The most serious of his injuries flared to life then, the immense blow to his pride as he shifted and stood…free hand and foot, but still tethered to the chair by a messy knot of soggy ropes still tangled around his waist.
“Do I fucking look all right to you?” he snapped, smacking the surface of the water in frustration.
A rousing cheer rose from the crowd around the pool area of the Mirage, but the swell of energy that filled him did little to alleviate Tommy’s foul temper. His assistants clapped him on the back, congratulated him, but only Channing met his gaze in understanding.
He hadn’t gotten free. Not all the way. A partial victory was not a victory, just a high ranking failure. This was his life from now on, facing this sick-making feeling of toppling like an unsteady stack of May’s favorite building blocks. Nothing was certain, nothing would ever be certain…nothing he ever put together was going to turn out the way it was meant to. That part he made peace with even as impotent rage at himself had him ready to spend a week underwater to get the escape right.
He knew and accepted that his life and his triumphs no longer belonged to him. This was who he was, who he always would be…and as hard as it got, he took great joy in it.
No, the hard part of this, the thing that killed him was how fucking pissed Zee was going to be when she found out he’d done this…without telling her first.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 747
Know the answers
I can finally say I am free
And if the questions
Led me here, then
I am who I was born to be
And so here am I
Open arms and ready to stand
I've got the world in my hands
And it feels like my turn to fly
==========
NOTE: Channing is what_its_not and is mine to use and abuse.
It was never going to go according to plan.
He was on his back, tied to a chair by one hundred feet of rope that was now swollen and hot due to the fact he was laid out at the bottom of a two foot deep hot tub. Above him, the sun had been a wobbly, waterlogged dream, air a distant memory as he held his breath and struggled against his bonds.
And he was starting to realize, as the wraiths came, that things were never again going to go the way they were supposed to. They were on him in an instant, forcing him to close his eyes against the way they blotted out the light, demons of pure evil that only he could see. The crowd above the water could feel their power, he could sense the rising tension and knew his reserves were fading the more fearful they became.
His lungs began to protest, too early, too soon. His hands and feet continued to work.
One by one, they slid like ice over his skin, flotsam and jetsam from the void whispering lies and blackest despair in his mind. They dove in and out of that gaping hole in his soul, one of their own making and tried to eat him alive. Fangs in his heart, claws at his lungs, they tried to tear him apart from the inside out and change the content of the energy that was rising.
This was his future, his life from now on. He realized that as he let them come and, very calmly, let the previously uncomfortable heat of the bubbling water fill him. Hands gone numb from the cold, he tugged harder against the ropes until the warmth returned feeling and pain forced him back into caution. Foot by foot, he shook loose his bonds as best he could until both of his hands were free.
He was almost done with his ankles when a wraith sank teeth into his throat and, already too desperate for air, he coughed.
Tommy nodded immediately, the signal to the stagehand in the diving mask that he needed to be pulled out. Hands grasped his arms and hauled him up until he could cough up the water he’d swallowed and greedily suck down a glorious lungful of air.
“Jesus Christ, Tommy! Are you all right?”
He nodded, still hacking as he rubbed at his throat and chest, still stinging where he’d been bitten. No marks were on his body, no blood spilled, but he could still feel their teeth on him, still see the ocean of wriggling, slick black bodies teeming like maggots in the water.
“Did he do it? Did he escape?”
“He was underwater for like ten minutes! He’s probably half dead!”
“No, look! Look! He did, look! His hands are free!”
“Tommy.” The voice was Channing’s this time. “Are you all right?”
The most serious of his injuries flared to life then, the immense blow to his pride as he shifted and stood…free hand and foot, but still tethered to the chair by a messy knot of soggy ropes still tangled around his waist.
“Do I fucking look all right to you?” he snapped, smacking the surface of the water in frustration.
A rousing cheer rose from the crowd around the pool area of the Mirage, but the swell of energy that filled him did little to alleviate Tommy’s foul temper. His assistants clapped him on the back, congratulated him, but only Channing met his gaze in understanding.
He hadn’t gotten free. Not all the way. A partial victory was not a victory, just a high ranking failure. This was his life from now on, facing this sick-making feeling of toppling like an unsteady stack of May’s favorite building blocks. Nothing was certain, nothing would ever be certain…nothing he ever put together was going to turn out the way it was meant to. That part he made peace with even as impotent rage at himself had him ready to spend a week underwater to get the escape right.
He knew and accepted that his life and his triumphs no longer belonged to him. This was who he was, who he always would be…and as hard as it got, he took great joy in it.
No, the hard part of this, the thing that killed him was how fucking pissed Zee was going to be when she found out he’d done this…without telling her first.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 747