jimmy lannigan ☛ jaime lannister (shitforhonor) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2011-10-24 23:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !halloween, !plot week, jimmy lannigan |
Who: Jimmy Lannigan
What: A Lannister comes to repay her debts.
Where: Jimmy's apartment, NYC
When: 11 PM, October 24th, 2011
Warnings: Violence, hauntings, dismemberment, language, and mild spoilers for ASOIAF through A Storm of Swords-ish.
Jimmy didn't know what time he awoke – only that he did, it was dark, and he was in pain. He gasped, swore, and sat up in his bed, breathing hard and heart racing for reasons he couldn't fathom, and it took him a moment to realize: no pain. There was no pain. Not awake. It had been a dream, that was all – an echo of a wound that had never really been his. Laughing, he raised his right hand in front of him, peered at the front of it, then the back. "Just a dream," he murmured, and he laughed again, this time out of pure relief. He'd never been so glad to see the back of his hand before. "A stupid fuckin' memory. Jesus." "No, Kingslayer," came a voice from the shadows. "Oathbreaker." A woman's voice. Jaime knew that voice, knew it better than he knew his own. The blood he shared with Jimmy froze in his veins. Lannister blood, like the crimson of their banners. Precious blood. "Brother." Fear and instinct propelled him as he reached for the gun tucked in his mattress, but the ghost (if a ghost it was) was too fast for him. She appeared like she did in Jaime's dreams, perfect and powerful, with one brutal addition – her blade. The blade he'd given to another woman. Oathkeeper sang as only Valyrian steel could, changing its song once and only once as it sliced through air and then, suddenly, flesh. And then it stopped. Just like the first time, Jaime screamed, and Jimmy screamed with him. But nothing went black. They weren't spared the pain by unconsciousness; something prevented him from slipping away into the blessed dark. Her, perhaps. His perfect punishment. Oh, yes. Her. She wanted him to hear this. "You abandoned me," she spat, undoubtedly radiant in her rage, but Jimmy was blind. He could only see himself clutching the bloody stump to his chest. He would not, could not, see the hand that had been there mere seconds before. The shock was too much. He wanted to ignore her, but her voice reverberated around him relentlessly. "For them. Them! Traitors and usurpers! Murderers of your own house! How dare you, Jaime! How dare you betray me!" Gasping, flailing, falling, he hit the ground with his shoulder, sending a spasm of unendurable pain to the ends of his phantom fingers, but he found the gun and gripped it tight with the only hand he had left. "You betrayed him first," Jimmy groaned through the pain and the delirium. He felt it was important to say more on Jaime's behalf, but his blood was so warm. And there was so much. So much crimson. "Go away now, you filthy cunt." He shot the apparition. She disappeared with a wild, inhuman shriek. He almost let himself die then, but Jaime's will to live was too strong. Miraculously, his phone had fallen to the floor in the chaos, and dropping the gun, Jimmy grabbed it and desperately hit redial. He could barely see now, and the stump he cradled to his chest was too real, too real, too real. ... A voice. On the other end of the line, there was a voice. "Help," he slurred, the edges of his vision dissolving. "I need help." And then, finally, black. |