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taxonomites2010-06-20 09:25 pm
aregulargirl.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2010-06-20 09:25 pm
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017: ACCIDENTAL VISUAL/LOCATION: MAX'S APARTMENT ROOFTOP (we are, we are the youth of the nation)
Max is on top of her apartment building, as she typically is at this time of night. Her legs hang over the side of the building as she watches the city, a troubled expression on her face. There's a lot going on in the city that she doesn't understand, things going on with her friends that she can't help with, or heard about too late to help with. It eats at her, makes her feel guilty and inadequate, makes her second guess herself and her actions. She's here partly to reflect and partly to plan, figure out what she and everyone else can do.
Something moves in the corner of her vision and she frowns, turning and standing to find out what it is - she's pretty sure that she's the only one living here who frequents this place -
And what she sees makes her chest clench and her blood run cold.
It's the same face that a lot of people in Taxon know as Dean's, it's the face that she now knows as Alec's, but even though it's associated with someone else in her mind now she can never forget who it first belonged to. It's her big brother, the one who told her stories to explain the world outside, the one who made shadows dance on the walls to make her smile.
The one who hadn't been able to handle the world outside, the one who'd tried so hard to cling to Manticore when his stories couldn't explain things anymore. The one who'd gone crazy and killed people as a sacrifice to a god he'd made up, a twisted interpretation of the tooth fairy.
He's standing there now, clothes dirty and face and hands scratched up. He's clutching a necklace of what most would recognize as the Virgin Mary, but she knows that's not how he knows her, not what he calls her. His hair is matted, clumps of dirt falling to the ground as he moves towards her, but that's not the most horrifying part - that would be the way his head is dangling at an unnatural angle, rolling lazily back and forth as he moves.
Max sinks to the ground, making soft, gasping noises at the back of her throat. Her tablet, which has been in the pocket of her jacket until now, bounces out and clicks on to show her face, eyes and mouth wide open in terror. Her body's gone completely rigid except for the way she's trembling, shaking like a leaf.
She has seen people dead before, watched people die, watched people dying. Seen her sister hooked up to tubes in a tank, held her as the life went out of her body. Seen another brother hooked up to machines with a hole in his chest that she knew she was because of her. Seen someone she loved fall to the floor as fever and blisters took over his body, seen that same person get shot on TV, seen him in a hospital bed more times than she cares to recall. All of these situations could be linked back to her somehow, she's thought of how she might have reversed them countless times, but in the end they were all just victims of circumstance. This is different, this death is one that she knows is her fault.
She wants to say something (i'm sorry), wants to cry, wants to scream.
She can't move.
Something moves in the corner of her vision and she frowns, turning and standing to find out what it is - she's pretty sure that she's the only one living here who frequents this place -
And what she sees makes her chest clench and her blood run cold.
It's the same face that a lot of people in Taxon know as Dean's, it's the face that she now knows as Alec's, but even though it's associated with someone else in her mind now she can never forget who it first belonged to. It's her big brother, the one who told her stories to explain the world outside, the one who made shadows dance on the walls to make her smile.
The one who hadn't been able to handle the world outside, the one who'd tried so hard to cling to Manticore when his stories couldn't explain things anymore. The one who'd gone crazy and killed people as a sacrifice to a god he'd made up, a twisted interpretation of the tooth fairy.
He's standing there now, clothes dirty and face and hands scratched up. He's clutching a necklace of what most would recognize as the Virgin Mary, but she knows that's not how he knows her, not what he calls her. His hair is matted, clumps of dirt falling to the ground as he moves towards her, but that's not the most horrifying part - that would be the way his head is dangling at an unnatural angle, rolling lazily back and forth as he moves.
Max sinks to the ground, making soft, gasping noises at the back of her throat. Her tablet, which has been in the pocket of her jacket until now, bounces out and clicks on to show her face, eyes and mouth wide open in terror. Her body's gone completely rigid except for the way she's trembling, shaking like a leaf.
She has seen people dead before, watched people die, watched people dying. Seen her sister hooked up to tubes in a tank, held her as the life went out of her body. Seen another brother hooked up to machines with a hole in his chest that she knew she was because of her. Seen someone she loved fall to the floor as fever and blisters took over his body, seen that same person get shot on TV, seen him in a hospital bed more times than she cares to recall. All of these situations could be linked back to her somehow, she's thought of how she might have reversed them countless times, but in the end they were all just victims of circumstance. This is different, this death is one that she knows is her fault.
She wants to say something (i'm sorry), wants to cry, wants to scream.
She can't move.