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entranceway2017-10-02 02:00 pm
nascensibility) wrote in entranceway2017-10-02 02:00 pm
Entry tags:
- 2064 read only memories: turing,
- blindspot: jane doe,
- dangan ronpa: mondo oowada,
- dc comics: kon-el,
- estancia: kay,
- fantastic beasts: newt scamander,
- from dusk till dawn: seth gecko,
- good omens: crowley,
- gravity falls: dipper pines,
- gravity falls: wendy corduroy,
- hatoful boyfriend: nageki fujishiro,
- legends of tomorrow: ray palmer,
- lucifer: chloe decker,
- marvel: peggy carter,
- marvel: sharon carter,
- marvel: teddy altman,
- mass effect: legion,
- newsflesh: georgia mason,
- persona 5: ryuji sakamoto,
- rick and morty: morty smith,
- rick and morty: rick,
- supernatural: sam winchester,
- the amazing spider-man: peter parker,
- the flash: caitlin snow,
- the mummy: alex o'connell,
- the mummy: evelyn carnahan,
- the picture of dorian gray: dorian gray,
- the walking dead: michonne,
- warm bodies: r,
- wynonna earp: doc holliday
[VIDEO] Wonderland Death Watch β
In the wake of our most recent event and regarding the fate of those who lose their fifth life, I would like to propose a new series of data collection on mansion residents. It is my opinion that the instatement of a βdeath watchβ - that is, an archival record of extant resident deaths that have occurred - should be created and maintained, and would serve as a valuable resource for the protection of those who are at risk.
[This is the difficult part: persuading people to share this sort of thing about themselves, knowing what it does to others and how it can hurt, is no easy task. She believed as much when she first spoke with Shepard on the subject, and believes the same now. Evelyn herself does not like to offer personal information unless asked, but knows the burden of carrying that suffering on one's own and how easily an environment can fall to fear.]
I understand that this is very private, very personal information. I understand it is traumatic, and not something that many people want to share. Therefore it is incumbent upon me to stress the critical severity of this situation, and assure you that you are not alone.
I myself have lost four lives here.
In disclosing as much, I hope that others can be swayed to believe in the efficacy of this database, and would urge residents to volunteer their respective death tolls to build the record. Residents who submit information to the watch on their numbers may do so to me privately, if there is concern about embarrassment or persecution from peers.
[It is a valid concern, and one which she has agonised over.]
Commander Shepardβs confirmation from the Queen of Hearts that those who are remade after their last demise are conscripted as spies is extremely troubling. Regardless of the veracity of the information given its source, we as unwilling residents do not have the luxury of allowing for that liability. For those concerned about their safety, I will be actively working with the commander, who is well-equipped to establish and manage security procedures once the record has been transcribed and analysed. This is a living document, and is expected to require additions over time.
I am aware that this is a drastic measure, but a measure worth taking. Please feel free to direct all responses and queries to myself and Commander Shepard.
[OOC NOTE: I realize this is a hot button issue as has generated a lot of replies, which is great! In order to keep myself sane, I'm going to have to cut it off here and request that no one else respond in this post. Messaging Evelyn's inbox is cool if you want to drop a line there instead, but replies will be slower there.
Anyone who did not get to respond in here before the cut-off, I'd really like you to at least drop a comment HERE if you believe your character would still share their information with her. Thank you for understanding!]
no subject
What happened to me? [He takes a deep breath, forcing himself calmer. Or at least to sound calmer. ]
Nothing happened to me. I just realized everything I ever believed in was going to let me down if I let it.
...only had to lose everything that mattered to me to figure it out. [The bullets he took? Yeah, they don't matter. They don't count. He got over that. It was everything else---He keeps thinking he can actually say the words, and finds he can't.]
no subject
Or rather, he's withholding the truth. No one goes into such great detail only to peter off near the end and say it wasn't anything at all. Evelyn's mouth tightens, but she doesn't call it to attention.]
...I loved someone once - trusted them, immensely - who lied to me for months. I was trying to find this- I was following these sporadic murders happening around the mansion that we believed belonged to the same killer. It tore me apart, not knowing. The uncertainty. He'd known, the entire time, apparently. Who it was. He'd been complicit. I felt-
[Evelyn looks away from the camera, taking a deep breath and sighing.]
I felt like nothing after I knew. Like I had nothing.
no subject
No, he hasn't disconnected, despite the long silence. Just...what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? What the fuck is he supposed to say, when that story basically feels like someone ripping open another hole in his chest? ]
...why are you telling me this? [His voice isn't small, but it sounds more like a croak. ]
no subject
[She doesn't immediately answer his question, one turn for his own manner of avoiding the subject. Not that she intends to withhold information, only that there are important parts yet to note.]
My third. It was- ah, a knife, maybe three or four ribs up from the bottom. [Almost distractedly, the taps the spot with her fingers. Her tone is calm, collected - bordering on clinical, but the expression is tight. This is not an easy subject.] Perforated my lung. It was the killer, of course, not the man I had loved. In that moment, they felt the same.
[His commanding officer had been a part of what happened to him, she knows now, and in an attempt to alleviate and acknowledge that, Evelyn fixes him with a intent look once more. These are not sympathies. Just truths.]
It hurts...almost more, to be betrayed. I'm sorry it happened to you.
no subject
And he knows, you don't share this kind of high caliber stuff for nothing. It takes him a moment to start talking, like he's steeling himself up for it. ]
They pulled life support off me after three days. Three days, and they thought I was going to finally die. Three days stuck in a body, hooked up to every goddam machine they had, stuck with the memory of my daughter's goddam blood spilling out over my legs.
They wanted me dead. I wanted me dead--anything would be better than that.
[Was that enough? Did it balance the scale of what she'd told him? Maybe. ]
My CO. Taught me to shoot, taught me everything I knew about how to be a good goddam Marine.
I was a good goddam Marine.
He was behind it. The shooting. My family dying.
[Was THAT enough? ...it was enough.]
no subject
It is never necessarily that she is attempting to relate, or detract from someone else's pain, but make the already-difficult environment they're in a little less oppressive. She has to try.
Which is why she doesn't expect Frank Castle to volunteer as much as he does. It may be that she has constructed an atmosphere safe enough for him to do so, or that he sees a relation in her words that is an echo of his own strife. As he continues she can pinpoint certain similarities, but the others...
He lost his family. He lost everything to someone he vouched for, who was built into a system that was supposed to protect people like him, like his daughter.
Will Graham worked for a bureau that did not protect him, failed him so miserably he was framed for the very crimes he had strained to solve - he paid it forward in dismantling the world he built for Evelyn after earning her trust.
It's good, that Frank killed his commanding officer. It was earned. But it doesn't stop Evelyn from reaching for her locket and fiddling with the clasp, struggling to break the silence after so profound an admission.]
I'm so sorry, Frank. [Voice tight, she continues,] I know what that feels like.
no subject
Anything, so long as it wasn't Frank Castle, object of pity.
Fuck. That sounds like pity. ]
Yeah, don't waste your time feeling sorry for me. I don't deserve it. Or need it.
[Or, more precisely, enough sympathy and he might break down completely. Anger's been the only thing keeping him going since he woke up in the hospital, unwilling to die. ]
I don't do what I do because of what they did to me. I do it because of what they did to them. [His family. His normal life and all those dreams he'd been fighting for for fifteen years.
It's a small difference, maybe. But maybe she can understand.] Not like what you've been through.
no subject
[Evelyn says almost immediately, the subject clearly a sore one to her as well. She received too many sympathies after Philip died a fifth time, as if she was the one with the problem and not him, too many well-wishers and sorry declarations after she came forward with concrete evidence as to Hannibal's treachery, when all she'd wanted was some goddamn help.
Not a shoulder to cry on, no hand to hold, someone who could look her in the eye and tell her they would do what it took to make things right, no matter the means or the method.
She understands that anger is a powerful tool, that rage can function but not sustain. She employed her own righteous fury back then and it wore her into the ground until she had to build herself anew, harder in many places than before.]
And what I do here is not for me. My efforts serve people who are terrified of what this place does to them, what it does to all of us. I didn't die four times at the hands of various murderers to sit around ruminating on how to better myself for it.
[God knows Evelyn wishes she could put a bullet in some of them. And she'd threatened to, before they quit themselves of this place entirely.]
no subject
[Both halves, if he could be greedy, but that's too much to ask. Hoping that some of them don't see him either as a victim raddled with PTSD, or a hero. He wasn't either. He didn't want to be either.
He didn't want to be what he was, which felt, sometimes, like something that had altogether too much of Schoonover's hand in it. The best use he had of who he was, and what he could do, was turn the weapon he had become against the man who made him.]
Yeah. I'm already gone, already goddam done for. Best thing I can do is try to make sure no one else has to get like me.
no subject
Evelyn's remembers being a victim of manipulation, the self-loathing of not knowing when one should have, the shame. More than anyone else, Frank punishes himself.]
I could say some very pretty words, [Evelyn remarks quietly.] That no one is beyond saving. Beyond help. But that would be disingenuous of me, and I'm not that good a liar.
You don't have to believe me, but I don't think you're as lost as you say you are.
no subject
{Red, on the rooftops, talking about how no one was too far gone. Everyone could come back. Bullshit, hopeless happy bullshit from someone who'd never crossed the line. ]
Some things, you don't come back from. Ever.
no subject
[She says softly, almost an afterthought. How could she forget that he's apparently gunning for the title of Most Well-Adjusted Vigilante?]
I'm familiar.
[It's the sincerity that is most galling, knowing he means every word of it. Part of her is still there in the hot streets of Cairo, over a decade ago. A world away and she still hears people screaming. Fire pouring from the sky, plagues inadvertently summoned by her own hand.
You don't come back from that.]
...listen, it's...been very illuminating, speaking with you. Maybe next time we'll meet in person.
no subject
He can tell a brush-off when he hears one. It wasn't Karen's 'you're dead to me', not even the same tone, but he knows the gist. He's crossed a line.
Wasn't the first time. Won't be the last. ]
Yeah. Okay.
[What else can he say?]
You know how to reach me.