♞ two :: i remember falling, i remember marching, like a one man army

[violenthearted]

[It's some fabulously obscene hour of the morning when Erik bullies into life fires up his network gadget and sets it on the counter in his kitchen to use as an impromptu webcam. His kitchen and living room are attached, so through the monitor one can see not only the front window with its curtains open, but the viva-la-whathehell going on below it.

Erik himself is leaning against the window and smoking, dressed from the day before like he hasn't been to sleep, and contemplating the unfolding scene with acerbic dispassion.]

Your City suffers from a poorly organized case of Revolution, it appears. [Capital letter audible.] Are we soldiering bravely on toward anything in particular, or have we lost one too many games of Risk?

[He smokes. Acerbically, or one of those other synonyms for 'dry' his typist is running through like Kleenex.]

Circumstances being what they are, this does strike me as the ideal time to mention I'm advertising my services as a locksmith. A profession coincidentally also often dealing with securities.

[Wouldn't it be comically inaccurate if this gave anybody the impression Erik was against bloody revolution as a means of affecting change.]

Comments

[coyote_walking]

This sort of thing happens every now and then here. People do ridiculous things in an attempt to get at the deities or try and get out of here.

And invariably it ends badly - or at best it goes back to the status quo.

In any case, I'm not sure that the deities aren't just as trapped here as we are.

[violenthearted]

Interesting supposition. Not that I'd let it sway me, but then I am a creature given to questioning.

[coyote_walking]

Yeah, my curiosity always gets me into trouble - or did back home.

My foster dad used to say that it was lucky I could run a little faster than an enraged werewolf because I sure did have a knack for enraging them.