Jay Merrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burntvideocassette) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-06-18 03:45 pm
burntvideocassette) wrote in entrancelogs2017-06-18 03:45 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] Some things can never be spoken. Some things cannot be pronounced.
Who: Jay and Tim
Where: The gardens
When: 6/18
Rating: PG - PG-13
Summary: Jay attempts to explain what he learned without explaining how he learned it
The Story:
It's supposed to be summer. That's what the people on the network said. Jay hoped he'd be able to step outside and warm up, at least a bit, but he just can't shake the chill. He tried to get the closet to replace his old hoodie--brown and worn thin from years of use--and to its credit, it did a decent job. It's the right color, and roughly the right size, but it's new and stiff and still needs to be broken in. It's not familiar, but at least it's warm.
Jay zips it up to his neck as he approaches the garden, eyes darting to the short shadows cast by the hedges. He tries to think about literally anything but the word that's been looping in his head since his conversation with the Mirror several days prior, but consciously trying just makes it worse. He remembers the conversation, and what he remembers is supported by the footage he's been watching and rewatching since he woke up the morning after. It reminds him of when he first found the tapes, that first massive shift in perspective.
He has to talk through it. Tim's the only one he knows who might immediately benefit from the knowledge. Tim's the only one who might understand.
Jay scans the benches, looking for him.
Where: The gardens
When: 6/18
Rating: PG - PG-13
Summary: Jay attempts to explain what he learned without explaining how he learned it
The Story:
It's supposed to be summer. That's what the people on the network said. Jay hoped he'd be able to step outside and warm up, at least a bit, but he just can't shake the chill. He tried to get the closet to replace his old hoodie--brown and worn thin from years of use--and to its credit, it did a decent job. It's the right color, and roughly the right size, but it's new and stiff and still needs to be broken in. It's not familiar, but at least it's warm.
Jay zips it up to his neck as he approaches the garden, eyes darting to the short shadows cast by the hedges. He tries to think about literally anything but the word that's been looping in his head since his conversation with the Mirror several days prior, but consciously trying just makes it worse. He remembers the conversation, and what he remembers is supported by the footage he's been watching and rewatching since he woke up the morning after. It reminds him of when he first found the tapes, that first massive shift in perspective.
He has to talk through it. Tim's the only one he knows who might immediately benefit from the knowledge. Tim's the only one who might understand.
Jay scans the benches, looking for him.
no subject
Still carrying those things around?
Well. Fifty percent of them are.
"Did you..." Fuck. Don't get choked now. "You need to talk about anything else, or...?"
no subject
This is...it feels like the end of the conversation, and he should be used to this by now, to splitting off into separate cars with a vague, 'I'll call you.' He should be used to the gap of days or weeks with nothing but the camera and the locks on the doors between him and whatever's out there.
He sounds like a needy fucking kid. Suck it up, Jay. He worked alone for months. Years, really, barely interrupted by the time he spent rooming next to Jessica. There won't always be somebody to watch his back. There usually won't be anybody.
"Can't really...think of anything." He fidgets with the camera. "Guess I'll let you know if...something comes up."
no subject
No longer sharing ratty hotel rooms, but at least they're sharing...a building. With at least a hundred other people, but it's something.
"Yeah." Feels like Jay should be the one in a hurry to get out of this place, like the man who couldn't seem to stand still beneath a streetlight. But instead it's Tim, slinking away from someone he didn't try hard enough to help.
"I'll...see you, then."
no subject
(He's afraid of you, isn't he?)
Jay nods, the brim of his hat covering most of his face. "See you."