WHO: Danny Matthews, Blaise Zabini, and Emma DeLauro for sure. Possibly others. WHERE: The bar. WHEN: Backdated to noon on Tuesday. RATING: Erring on the side of caution, let’s say R for any potential language. WARNINGS: Possibly language. Other than that, nothing that I know of. STATUS: In Progress
Danny was sitting on the bar, awaiting the arrival of the others. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet, and didn’t plan on doing any drinking during the meeting. He wanted a clear head for what was about to go down. Hopefully this thing would go off without a hitch and everyone would be able to work together.
Yeah right. And he’d go back to his room to find three supermodels waiting for him while outside pigs would be flying.
Still, he had high hopes for the goal of this thing, if not for the meeting itself. The real goal, not the one he’d mentioned in that post. His goal with this thing, his only real purpose for this meeting, was to give people a purpose. Maybe he’d been a little crazy when he first got here. But he’d put himself back together, slowly, after Amanda disappeared. With no one left to cling to, all he had was himself, and while it did cause a little bit of whining and moping, he’d slowly been able to reach a point where he felt a little less like Humpty Dumpty post-fall. And after that, he’d started thinking. His gears started turning, and as they did, he thought about how much of a powder keg this whole situation really was.
People with powers, some of them immensely destructive, all shoved onto one little island with absolutely nothing to do, absolutely nothing they could do. How long would it take for that feeling of uselessness to seep into people and start weighing them down into despair? How long before people gave up and started doing whatever they pleased? The endgame of that scenario, in Danny’s mind at least, was a gigantic battle that ended up destroying everyone.
So he wanted to give people a purpose. He’d hoped that it wouldn’t have to be him to step up and do it. He’d have much preferred to fall in line behind someone older and on slightly more stable mental ground. Unfortunately it didn’t look like anyone like that was going to step up, and with more and more psychotics showing up every day and targeting people, it became more and more likely that the people like that would all be absorbed in their own personal dramas and therefore be too busy to step up and do anything. So, before things got too bad, he decided he needed to grit his teeth and step up, even if he didn’t really want to.
He didn’t really think they’d get off the island. But he needed the others to think it, to believe that there was hope, because that would not only keep them focused and therefore too distracted for despair to set in, they’d also have that extra little layer of hope to combat it.
Or maybe this whole thing was to give him something to fight despair with. That was a thought he hadn’t cared to ponder too much.
He took a deep breath, trying to prepare for what was about to go down. Hope this works...