Ichabod Crane (no_superstition) wrote in indarkness_logs, @ 2010-10-20 23:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, 2032 10, ichabod crane |
RP: The video surely lies?
Characters: Ichabod Crane
Time/Date: Immediately following his viewing of the video
Location: AS, his room
Warnings/Rating: Sorrow
Summary: He cannot believe what he had witnessed, but it's hard to deny yet another horror
Status: Closed. Just a narrative.
Ichabod woke to another day on an island which, under any other circumstances, might have been a paradise; here it was nothing remotely close. Still, it was another day closer to the hope that there would be a reunion, and another step closer to what he hoped would be the end of their visit. As interesting as this "future" may have been, it was still not home. She was still not here. It was still not paradise.
The machine on the desk made a sound and he looked toward it; it was a thing he had not used, though he had toyed with it on occasion. The system was technology far beyond his understanding, but not his curiosity; normally it simply sat quietly, but this time it demanded attention- and Ichabod offered it.
Within moments he was sorry that he had, as the moment the machine became active the video played. His breath held as he watched the hotel breaking, the waves washing the bodies and the hotels away.
Oops. Lives reduced to a simple expression with no remorse or regret. "It cannot be," He said in a trembling voice, his eyes on the screen as the tragedy went through his mind; they would be safe, they had promised. The familiar light headed feeling began to overcome him, and he took deep breaths through his nose as he sat down and placed his on his chest. Gone... if what he had witnessed was truth, she was gone. Their life, their future; the one woman who could pull him from his books and inventions to see more of the world than the darkness... gone. Desperately he tried to message her, to talk to anyone at all on that island; his attempts were met with failure, and his hands trembled as he considered the implication that the truth was what he had witnessed.
"It is truth, but truth is not always appearance..."
Perhaps it was not as it seemed, but it was difficult to doubt. He could not allow himself to believe it, yet it did not stop the way he felt- the mourning and the sadness. If it was true, he owed her justice- and not only her, but for all of the innocents on the other island. That was if they were, in fact, washed away. He had nothing left to lose now; if it was to be their fate to die on this island, he had no intention of making it simple for them. He understood better now why some men took the paths they did, and while he had no intention of following, if he could provide some sort of justice for her, all the better.