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capeandcowllogs2009-08-03 12:33 am
bestmachine.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2009-08-03 12:33 am
since the virus caught you sleeping
WHO: Cavil (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bestmachine) and Envy (fluidshape)
WHERE: Some seedy, worn-down motel complex.
WHEN: August 3rd, late night.
WARNINGS: None for now. Possibly some violence towards NPCs - will edit as needed.
SUMMARY: Cavil has just come back to life and he realizes he's conspicuously covered in blood and still in enemy territory. Not to mention, it sounds like others are close by. Ruhroh. Time to call a friend, right? Of course, when that friend sends someone else...
FORMAT: Paragraph, unless you would rather do quicklog!
He wasn't sure when he woke up. One minute, there was nothing, and the next he was staring at a blank wall covered in plaster from the ceiling. An old, metal bed frame. A table. A motel room. Huh.
And then he remembered the death.
It was funny - one would think that dying more than once would make the whole thing easier, but there was always a certain grip it had, a psychological pull that never really left, especially for the more gruesome instances. Cavil had seen Cylons that were an emotional wreck after all the New Caprica drownings and burnings and suicide bombings, and so he didn't keep the illusion that every death would be a breeze. He wasn't even surprised, really, when he spent the next five minutes staring at that wall, and then the next ten, and then the next twenty, and then the next hour. It made sense. Staring, not thinking.
Until there were footsteps. He sat up, slowly, so slowly, careful not to let the floorboards make a sound. His movements felt jerky. Artificial. People were still in this building. Maybe Kiryu, maybe Saitou. Maybe someone else willing to slice his arm off and dig a hole in his hand. It was sloppy, letting himself doze off with his eyes still open, letting his brain shut down. He looked down at his arm and saw that it was whole. He also saw that it was still soaked in blood, as was the rest of him. Great.
That was when he sent a message to Lust. He didn't really have friends in this city, but she was at least on his side, he knew. Better her than potentially embarrassing himself in front of the entire Coalition. Better her than wandering out into the hallway and being arrested on sight. Or worse.
You'll never see him coming.
Ominous, but he wasn't going to question it. He was going to wait for this new, mysterious person Lust told him about to pick him up, and he was going to put this awful day behind him. He hoped.
bestmachine) and Envy (fluidshape)WHERE: Some seedy, worn-down motel complex.
WHEN: August 3rd, late night.
WARNINGS: None for now. Possibly some violence towards NPCs - will edit as needed.
SUMMARY: Cavil has just come back to life and he realizes he's conspicuously covered in blood and still in enemy territory. Not to mention, it sounds like others are close by. Ruhroh. Time to call a friend, right? Of course, when that friend sends someone else...
FORMAT: Paragraph, unless you would rather do quicklog!
He wasn't sure when he woke up. One minute, there was nothing, and the next he was staring at a blank wall covered in plaster from the ceiling. An old, metal bed frame. A table. A motel room. Huh.
And then he remembered the death.
It was funny - one would think that dying more than once would make the whole thing easier, but there was always a certain grip it had, a psychological pull that never really left, especially for the more gruesome instances. Cavil had seen Cylons that were an emotional wreck after all the New Caprica drownings and burnings and suicide bombings, and so he didn't keep the illusion that every death would be a breeze. He wasn't even surprised, really, when he spent the next five minutes staring at that wall, and then the next ten, and then the next twenty, and then the next hour. It made sense. Staring, not thinking.
Until there were footsteps. He sat up, slowly, so slowly, careful not to let the floorboards make a sound. His movements felt jerky. Artificial. People were still in this building. Maybe Kiryu, maybe Saitou. Maybe someone else willing to slice his arm off and dig a hole in his hand. It was sloppy, letting himself doze off with his eyes still open, letting his brain shut down. He looked down at his arm and saw that it was whole. He also saw that it was still soaked in blood, as was the rest of him. Great.
That was when he sent a message to Lust. He didn't really have friends in this city, but she was at least on his side, he knew. Better her than potentially embarrassing himself in front of the entire Coalition. Better her than wandering out into the hallway and being arrested on sight. Or worse.
You'll never see him coming.
Ominous, but he wasn't going to question it. He was going to wait for this new, mysterious person Lust told him about to pick him up, and he was going to put this awful day behind him. He hoped.