Comments | winter_of_souls: [open]

tom_hanniger in winter_of_souls

[open]

Mar 08, 2010 13:40

Who: Tom (open)
When: shortly after sundown
Where: The jail
Summary: sore and sorry, someone's back from the dead.
Rating: TBA

( Its really/Too bad/He became a prisoner of his own past/He stabbed the moment in the back/With the round thumbtack/That held up the list of things he gotta do/Its really/No good/He's moving on before he understood/He shot the future in the foot with every step he took/From the places that he's been cause he forgot to look )

my bloody valentine: tom hanniger, !log, npc: the countess

Comments 26

vile_miasma March 9 2010, 00:05:57 UTC

The prison block was a dismal place, to be sure, and it suited the needs of one. Too dismal, though, perhaps. Even prisoners deserved to see their own punishment. She turned to the poor abandoned light switch on the wall, still covered and dust and forgotten about, and gently flipped it on with the side of her index finger. Dim, pathetic light flickered down the expanse. Some of the fluorescent bulbs overhead stayed on. Some didn't. They were enough, for now.

She gracefully and silently approached the only cell in this lonely place with a prisoner, curling her grip gently around one of the bars. The man inside was the most beautiful ballad she'd ever heard. She cocked her head to the side to get a better look at his face as pity wound its way around hers.

"Oh, my... What has the world done to you?"

The words rolled elegantly off of her tongue, dripping with sorrow. And yet, there was, like with all of her words, a distance to them; a hollowness, as though she were distracted by something else completely.

tom_hanniger March 9 2010, 20:52:52 UTC

Elegant, perhaps, but the words startled him nearly as much as the lights did.

Living in a year of darkness, literal or not, the buzz of the fluorescent bulbs springing to life were almost foreign. Tom nearly jumped from his half-up position and ran to see, but the pain still running through his limbs was incentive enough not to. Instead, he pulled himself up with a grunt - sitting against the wall to see who it was.

Then the woman appeared, looking at him like you would a dog in a shelter. He shook his head slightly, not recognizing her or the question.

vile_miasma March 10 2010, 03:38:13 UTC

He was very cute; to follow the analogy, like a scared puppy. She offered him a faint, sad smile, and allowed all of the sympathy she felt to show on her face.

"Do not be afraid," she said softly. "I've come to help."

Somehow that didn't feel like enough. She swung her hips to and fro slightly as she thought, allowing the free-flowing fabric of her dress to sway and gather around her legs. Before she began to speak, she sighed in a way that perfectly captured the disappointment and tire she felt.

"You deserve your own life," she explained, "and are long past due for someone to give you the true opportunity to live it."

tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 04:02:07 UTC

"I think we're a little past that point," He answered, the first words he had managed since waking up, gruff and met with instant regret from his sore throat.

He didn't like the way she spoke. It was like the words and the face they came from felt two completely different ways. To be fair, though, he was surprised someone was down here to speak to him at all. something in the rack of his head deemed her a messenger, the rest of the town having decided to let him rot...not that they would be out of their right.

"Who are you?"

She was pretty, and his attention wavered between her face and the way she shook her hips, but the question remained valid. The last time he spoke with a strange woman that knew anything about him it ended in a lot of unnecessary pain and a not so fantastic solution.

Thread 26