Jormungandr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
midgardserpent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-02-20 10:41 pm
midgardserpent) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-02-20 10:41 pm
Entry tags:
[Ninth]
Action: Zemekis Corp. Offices
[Yes, Jormungandr still works as an office guy. No, he still doesn't like it. He still has no idea what the papers are for, or what all it means, and he doesn't care. All he does is draw scribbles or type random letters on papers he's handed and somehow it works and no one talks about it. Sometimes he just sits and stares at the ceiling all day long. That's what he's doing now, actually. He's a master of patience and being able to sit in one place and do nothing. He never thought he'd be doing it in a place like this, though.]
Action: The Park, Late Afternoon
[He still likes the park. It's kind of nice. And it's away from the house and the nagging of the drone wife. He doesn't like her, but he tolerates her. He puts up with her by staying away from the house as much as possible. And so that means he spends a lot of time in the park.
He's sitting on a bench at the moment, staring at the sky. He's been here for half a year and he still hasn't really gotten used to having a sky. It's actually fascinating to him. All that blue, and the clouds... and the sun. It's like nothing he's ever dreamed.]
Action: Olney's Tavern, Evening
[Crowley had inviting him to come by when he was on duty sometime. Now, Jormungandr has no idea if Crowley is on duty or not, but he's decided to go anyway, to see what it's like.
He's sitting at the bar, watching the people around him. They're drinking, talking about strange things... He wonders what the point of this activity is. He wonders why humans even bother. Their lives are so short anyway, like the tiniest grain of salt in the vast ocean, dissolved into the greater whole and never noticed by anyone. How do they manage to survive?
...what? He can get philosophical if he wants. What else was he supposed to do on the bottom of the ocean?]
[Yes, Jormungandr still works as an office guy. No, he still doesn't like it. He still has no idea what the papers are for, or what all it means, and he doesn't care. All he does is draw scribbles or type random letters on papers he's handed and somehow it works and no one talks about it. Sometimes he just sits and stares at the ceiling all day long. That's what he's doing now, actually. He's a master of patience and being able to sit in one place and do nothing. He never thought he'd be doing it in a place like this, though.]
Action: The Park, Late Afternoon
[He still likes the park. It's kind of nice. And it's away from the house and the nagging of the drone wife. He doesn't like her, but he tolerates her. He puts up with her by staying away from the house as much as possible. And so that means he spends a lot of time in the park.
He's sitting on a bench at the moment, staring at the sky. He's been here for half a year and he still hasn't really gotten used to having a sky. It's actually fascinating to him. All that blue, and the clouds... and the sun. It's like nothing he's ever dreamed.]
Action: Olney's Tavern, Evening
[Crowley had inviting him to come by when he was on duty sometime. Now, Jormungandr has no idea if Crowley is on duty or not, but he's decided to go anyway, to see what it's like.
He's sitting at the bar, watching the people around him. They're drinking, talking about strange things... He wonders what the point of this activity is. He wonders why humans even bother. Their lives are so short anyway, like the tiniest grain of salt in the vast ocean, dissolved into the greater whole and never noticed by anyone. How do they manage to survive?
...what? He can get philosophical if he wants. What else was he supposed to do on the bottom of the ocean?]
ZEMEKIS
God. "Running out of money." It's a good thing this is his internal thought process enclosed within brackets, because he could never say those words aloud. Makes him slightly nauseous. As he turns to enter his office, he notices a guy across the room slumped down in his chair. He's no drone, judging by appearances. Dude is either comatose, practicing some extreme version of Zen or dead. The former and latter possibilities are pretty boring and not his problem, but the middle one piques his interest a little.]
Still alive over there?
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He raises an eyebrow and rolls his eyes. Working here, he's not entirely sure whether or not being dead would make a difference.]
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So, you work here Joe? Never knew that. Small world, this one-town, mystical hostage camp we all live in! How long have you worked here?
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S-so! How are you?
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Hey, ya meet my assistant here? Kono Kalakaua? Long legs, Asian persuasion, real easy on the eyes?
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