Fox Mulder | Not a Green Man (basementman) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-02-02 20:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, fox mulder |
Narrative; Fox Mulder
Who: Fox Mulder
What: Musings after midnight.
Where: 2106, Pott’s tower
When: Early morning; Sunday, February 3.
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
The TV was a constant soundtrack, alternating between low talking, breathy conversations, and a musical score that was possibly made on one electronic keyboard. It had been on for nearly three hours now, and while several shows had come and gone, the generalities of each had been the same. Mulder could not have told you what the characters names were, or the plot of any of the films, only that the television had been on for the entire time and that, with the exception of one trip to the toilets, he had not moved within that entire time. A pile of sunflower seed hulls gathered at the edge of the couch. They were mostly on a plastic bag laid down for the purpose of catching them, but likely a large portion of them would still fall to the side and have to be picked up by hand. Scully would have scolded him up one side and down the other had she come back to find the main room of the apartment looking like this. In some corner of his mind Fox wondered if the mess hadn’t been made in a subconscious attempt to get Scully back through the blue box. As if the Universe would know that he couldn’t make it on his own, and he needed her back here to help him figure out what to do. The show ended and moved into an infomercial and Fox found himself staring at a built female telling everyone about how they too could look like her. He closed his eyes for a moment, groped about for another sunflower seed, and then without having found one stopped. It took several moments, and several repetitions of how buying this DVD now would provide you with two free exercise mats, for his feet to actually swing over the edge of the sofa and land with a crunch on the sunflower seeds. He winced, just barely, and in a much swifter motion he silenced the television set. He had never been able to sleep well. Even in his own apartment on the other side of SHIELD’s tesseract, he had found himself staring at horrible infomercials - it was almost comforting to know that certain things were universal - but here it was somehow made worse by any lack of purpose. With Skinner reopening the X-Files only a few months before he had been pulled to this place, Fox had regained purpose again. After the brief euphoria of actually existing with and living with those from other worlds had worn off, he now felt as if he was back in that period of electronic surveillance without Scully, without the X-Files, and without any sense of what he was meant to be doing here. So far he had not regained a roommate, but he knew that possibility existed. Unless he asked to be relocated to a single room - and perhaps that was something he ought to ask for. It had been amusingly awkward to room with Scully at the beginning, but now that she was gone the apartment just felt empty and the possibility of a total stranger joining him didn’t make him thrill to his toes. Fox stepped across the room and glanced down onto the street below - as best as he could see it from the twenty-first floor. There was no surveillance, and he hadn’t stopped checking despite Scully’s rolling her eyes and the evidence suggesting that there actually wasn’t surveillance, and there were no notes from shadowy informants. Everything was remarkably normal and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Perhaps the NYPD, although he wasn’t certain they’d take him and if the electronic surveillance had driven him up the wall he couldn’t imagine that he’d love police work either. He did need something to take his mind off everything. He just had no idea what that something could be. |