Dr. Spencer Reid (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} awkwardgenius) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} vas_captio_rpg,@ 2009-12-10 23:06:00 |
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Who: L Lawliet and Spencer Reid.
What: A meeting between two lawmen with extremely different views.
When: Day 30, late afternoon.
Where: The outskirts of the forest.
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Active.
The events of the past few days had left Spencer Reid with a definite sense of his own mortality, as well as the mortality of the other captives trapped in this glass prison with him. The powers that be, which everyone seemed to refer to as the Management, were calculated and cruel, and controlled every aspect of their lives here - what they ate, what they did, where they slept, and how much pain they felt. It was the sadist control-freak's dream, and everyone else's worst nightmare.
Having to watch people just like him tortured on screens right before his eyes whilst he, and their friends, were put in a position where they were expected to diagnose them with mental illnesses and come out with reasons for why they acted the way they did under the most horrifying of tortures. Needless to say, he'd been watching his back, living a paranoid mess in this dilapidated little world, hoping that he wouldn't wake up in a glass tank filling with water, or with someone he may have seen around cutting him up piece by piece. He'd been sleeping as little as he could, but you didn't need an IQ for 187 to know that one needed sleep to survive.
It was late afternoon by now, according to Reid's watch, and he was wandering the outskirts of town, near the forested area where he had first arrived. It felt strange to come back here... he could almost smell the clean, fresh scent of Hotch's car as he slowly began to drift off to sleep on his way back from the airport. He closed his eyes, the wind rustling chestnut bangs and tossing them across his face, as he tried to imagine he was back in Hotch's car... or at the B.A.U, or in the jet, or anywhere. Anywhere but here.
He swallowed thickly, before opening his eyes, feeling his heart sink as his eyes met with the overgrown bush around him. He felt homesick, which was actually a stronger feeling than the one of fear and despair at the end that he may meet... well, after being cruelly tortured, if the stories of others and what he had seen were anything to go by. What he wouldn't give to have Morgan ruthlessly teasing him about being a nerd, or to feel butterflies in his stomach when JJ called him 'Spence'. He found himself staring at the ground, misery all over his face and his stomach in knots, and tried to snap himself out of it.
He should head back. Being out here alone was, no doubt, a bad idea. He dragged the baseball bat that he didn't seem to be able to part ways with behind him as he went, letting it pull a path through the dried leaves, as he headed back in the direction of the village.
What: A meeting between two lawmen with extremely different views.
When: Day 30, late afternoon.
Where: The outskirts of the forest.
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Active.
The events of the past few days had left Spencer Reid with a definite sense of his own mortality, as well as the mortality of the other captives trapped in this glass prison with him. The powers that be, which everyone seemed to refer to as the Management, were calculated and cruel, and controlled every aspect of their lives here - what they ate, what they did, where they slept, and how much pain they felt. It was the sadist control-freak's dream, and everyone else's worst nightmare.
Having to watch people just like him tortured on screens right before his eyes whilst he, and their friends, were put in a position where they were expected to diagnose them with mental illnesses and come out with reasons for why they acted the way they did under the most horrifying of tortures. Needless to say, he'd been watching his back, living a paranoid mess in this dilapidated little world, hoping that he wouldn't wake up in a glass tank filling with water, or with someone he may have seen around cutting him up piece by piece. He'd been sleeping as little as he could, but you didn't need an IQ for 187 to know that one needed sleep to survive.
It was late afternoon by now, according to Reid's watch, and he was wandering the outskirts of town, near the forested area where he had first arrived. It felt strange to come back here... he could almost smell the clean, fresh scent of Hotch's car as he slowly began to drift off to sleep on his way back from the airport. He closed his eyes, the wind rustling chestnut bangs and tossing them across his face, as he tried to imagine he was back in Hotch's car... or at the B.A.U, or in the jet, or anywhere. Anywhere but here.
He swallowed thickly, before opening his eyes, feeling his heart sink as his eyes met with the overgrown bush around him. He felt homesick, which was actually a stronger feeling than the one of fear and despair at the end that he may meet... well, after being cruelly tortured, if the stories of others and what he had seen were anything to go by. What he wouldn't give to have Morgan ruthlessly teasing him about being a nerd, or to feel butterflies in his stomach when JJ called him 'Spence'. He found himself staring at the ground, misery all over his face and his stomach in knots, and tried to snap himself out of it.
He should head back. Being out here alone was, no doubt, a bad idea. He dragged the baseball bat that he didn't seem to be able to part ways with behind him as he went, letting it pull a path through the dried leaves, as he headed back in the direction of the village.