Victor Frankenstein (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifeskills) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-12-05 12:19 am
lifeskills) wrote in entrancelogs2016-12-05 12:19 am
it's feeling like the sun's hiding
Who: Victor Frankenstein (lifeskills) and Dustin Henderson (chocolatepudding).
Where: Chillin' in Quor'toth.
When: Dec. 4th.
Rating: PG-13 for demon-y things? We'll see.
Summary: It's a hell dimension, what could go wrong for a doctor with suicidal tendencies and a precocious, monster-hunting kid?
The Story:
[A hell dimension. Well, if Victor had to guess where he'd end up in a choice between Heaven and Hell, it makes sense he'd end up here.
The first day sees him on edge. Weapons don't work here--as becomes readily apparent the first time a creature swoops down from on high and forces someone to rip a branch from a tree to bludgeon it--leaving them essentially unprotected in an event environment where dangers abound. Not just any danger, either.
Demons. From a distance, they don't look like the sort of metaphysical entity who could tear a woman's soul apart from the inside out as had happened to Vanessa, but they're horrific all the same and the connotation doesn't help put him at ease with so many of them prowling around.
On the second day, he's edgier, fitfully stalking the perimeter of the settlement, too apprehensive to rest, but too reluctant to face what this dimension has to offer by wandering very far. This place has a pull to it, a weight--it's in the toxic air he's breathing, in his head like a second voice, like the witches' lair all over again, bringing him closer to a version of himself he doesn't want to be anymore. Resisting the pull is, if possible, more challenging than keeping himself fed and watered here.
By the third day, after a night of being unable to sleep, Victor can no longer block the voice out. It tells him this is right where he should be and where he'll no doubt be going one day, so why fight it? Quietly, tiredly, he takes a seat by a ravine that looks down into a sickly green river of acid, watching it the way a child would watch the hypnotic motions of a mobile over their crib.
Danger is still all around, but it's getting harder to remember why he ought to care.]
lifeskills) and Dustin Henderson (chocolatepudding).Where: Chillin' in Quor'toth.
When: Dec. 4th.
Rating: PG-13 for demon-y things? We'll see.
Summary: It's a hell dimension, what could go wrong for a doctor with suicidal tendencies and a precocious, monster-hunting kid?
The Story:
[A hell dimension. Well, if Victor had to guess where he'd end up in a choice between Heaven and Hell, it makes sense he'd end up here.
The first day sees him on edge. Weapons don't work here--as becomes readily apparent the first time a creature swoops down from on high and forces someone to rip a branch from a tree to bludgeon it--leaving them essentially unprotected in an event environment where dangers abound. Not just any danger, either.
Demons. From a distance, they don't look like the sort of metaphysical entity who could tear a woman's soul apart from the inside out as had happened to Vanessa, but they're horrific all the same and the connotation doesn't help put him at ease with so many of them prowling around.
On the second day, he's edgier, fitfully stalking the perimeter of the settlement, too apprehensive to rest, but too reluctant to face what this dimension has to offer by wandering very far. This place has a pull to it, a weight--it's in the toxic air he's breathing, in his head like a second voice, like the witches' lair all over again, bringing him closer to a version of himself he doesn't want to be anymore. Resisting the pull is, if possible, more challenging than keeping himself fed and watered here.
By the third day, after a night of being unable to sleep, Victor can no longer block the voice out. It tells him this is right where he should be and where he'll no doubt be going one day, so why fight it? Quietly, tiredly, he takes a seat by a ravine that looks down into a sickly green river of acid, watching it the way a child would watch the hypnotic motions of a mobile over their crib.
Danger is still all around, but it's getting harder to remember why he ought to care.]
no subject
Which part do you imagine has been remotely convenient for me?
[Life at home, the highs of momentary happiness and the lows of confronting the truth of his actions, had made Victor soft. Being stuck in Quor'toth, breathing its toxic air, sharpens those edges again so that his reply, though calm and even, carries an undertone of challenge.
It's a ridiculous idea, and Victor doesn't even try to sugarcoat that he thinks as much.]
Pretending is a waste of time--I value mine too much to humor pretenses. If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked.
no subject
[ He should regret that. He really should, but there's something in the air, a bite, spurring him on. Like a voice is scratching at him from inside. His lips curl into a frown, fists clenched. Why had he come here? Dustin feels like he's already forgotten his original purpose.
It certainly wasn't to pick a fight, but here they are. ]
no subject
Dustin.
[It's uncommon for Victor to use a first name, an intimacy in it reserved for, as Dustin had said, friends. Has he called the boy by his name before? He can't recall, honestly. Either way, he doesn't utter it with a tone of offense--there's little too be offended by when the criticism comes from someone who hasn't lived long enough to fully understand the complexities he speaks of.]
When you're as old as I am, you'll understand neither the world or the people in it are obligated to be kind. It's a choice.
[Posturing is a choice as well, but it's a simpler one, an easy way out. Victor's never favored the easy way. Always the road less travelled, in this and in all things. No, he doesn't have his shit together, as the boy eloquently puts it--and maybe that's a symptom of the greater disease, the fact that he hasn't tried to mask his apathy, his disdain, his hunger for enlightenment.
Call him what you want, but he doesn't pretend to be other than what he is.]