[In Progress]
Title: Wasting Time
Characters: Black Jack, anybody who wants to join
Location: Somewhere outside Malaise (FREEZE TO DEATH? WHAT IS THIS 'FREEZE TO DEATH' YOU SPEAK OF?)
Rating: PG-13 in case of verbal outrage?
Summary: Was he really accomplishing anything here?
Date/Time: Day 19/Free Time
Shuffle, crunch, shuffle, crunch. His trenchcoat seemed to have become the best of friends with the snow at his feet. He couldn't hear anything else. That was a good thing... maybe.
Two days from now would be the third week of his work at Malaise. Three weeks. Three weeks of research, of insanity, of embarrassment... Was he really accomplishing anything by staying here? He would have thought that he'd found his lead by now. If things stayed this way, the organization would find him soon enough.
What was he thinking, deciding that this sorry excuse of an asylum would give him the answers he needed? It was so obvious that it was his time to leave - he could never stay in one place for too long lest he wanted to commit suicide - yet, and he shuddered at the prospect, somebody needed him.
Black Jack hoped he was just being crazy. It had already been days since that incident. He didn't require his help anymore. So why was he still there?
He wasn't sure if he was really asking the person in question, or if he was asking himself.
Characters: Black Jack, anybody who wants to join
Location: Somewhere outside Malaise (FREEZE TO DEATH? WHAT IS THIS 'FREEZE TO DEATH' YOU SPEAK OF?)
Rating: PG-13 in case of verbal outrage?
Summary: Was he really accomplishing anything here?
Date/Time: Day 19/Free Time
Shuffle, crunch, shuffle, crunch. His trenchcoat seemed to have become the best of friends with the snow at his feet. He couldn't hear anything else. That was a good thing... maybe.
Two days from now would be the third week of his work at Malaise. Three weeks. Three weeks of research, of insanity, of embarrassment... Was he really accomplishing anything by staying here? He would have thought that he'd found his lead by now. If things stayed this way, the organization would find him soon enough.
What was he thinking, deciding that this sorry excuse of an asylum would give him the answers he needed? It was so obvious that it was his time to leave - he could never stay in one place for too long lest he wanted to commit suicide - yet, and he shuddered at the prospect, somebody needed him.
Black Jack hoped he was just being crazy. It had already been days since that incident. He didn't require his help anymore. So why was he still there?
He wasn't sure if he was really asking the person in question, or if he was asking himself.