Howard Bassem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92012-03-02 10:18 pm
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in trans_92012-03-02 10:18 pm
Entry tags:
He Holds His Crayon Rosary [Open]
It's been a long time since Howard engaged in some harmless graffiti. Two years, if not a little more. He's exhausted from a long shift in Med Bay and then hitting the Media Library for his new Leon-appointed position, but it seems like the urge to vandalize things has been pent up for so long that he has all the energy in the world to do this.
The memory-statues and painting under the giant lit-up head in the Art Hall are as good a place as any. Using permanent marker, some pink spraypaint and his knife, he starts to carve and mark things into the shifting wall.
DGIG KILLED 1ST CREW
STACY WIPES MINDS
DON'T TRUST THEM
The paintings and statues shift and mold to his memories, images both calm and terrifying, images he remembers and ones he's long forgotten. There's him playing basketball in his driveway. There's Orc's face torn open by flesh-eating worms. There's a massacre, and there's a busy cafeteria, and there's Disneyland, there's the first time he broke his nose and there's him sleeping in math class. The statue becomes a child's corpse and then an impatient P.E. coach and then his grandmother. On the wall, the images keep shifting, but the marks he's making stay where they are, black and pink and chiseled.
WRITE IT ALL DOWN
The memory-statues and painting under the giant lit-up head in the Art Hall are as good a place as any. Using permanent marker, some pink spraypaint and his knife, he starts to carve and mark things into the shifting wall.
DGIG KILLED 1ST CREW
STACY WIPES MINDS
DON'T TRUST THEM
The paintings and statues shift and mold to his memories, images both calm and terrifying, images he remembers and ones he's long forgotten. There's him playing basketball in his driveway. There's Orc's face torn open by flesh-eating worms. There's a massacre, and there's a busy cafeteria, and there's Disneyland, there's the first time he broke his nose and there's him sleeping in math class. The statue becomes a child's corpse and then an impatient P.E. coach and then his grandmother. On the wall, the images keep shifting, but the marks he's making stay where they are, black and pink and chiseled.
WRITE IT ALL DOWN
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"That one's Emergency Rations and this one," Howard lifts the fat tabby into Orc's lap, "is Sushi. And they both like you way more than they liked me when I got them."
Sushi lays like a warm, purring lump on Orc.
"You can pet Sushi if you want. He's sturdy."
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"Good kitty." He mumbled.
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He demonstrates scratching the cat under the chin on Emergency Rations, gesturing for Orc to do the same for Sushi. "Since your hand's all rough, it'll probably feel even better to Sushi."
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"It's nice." He confessed.
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Only then did Orc realize the joke behind the cats names and it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Do you think anyone else is in the pods from home?"
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"Who knows?" Part of him wants to say 'who cares?', but that's not true. That little sprout of conscience he's been nurturing says he should, in some far-off way, hope that the other kids escaped. Except Drake, and maybe Caine, but definitely Drake. "Why would Stacy grab us and not people like Sam or Edilio?"
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At least Sushi's purring was soothing.
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Then again if he'd had one back home it would have been someone's last resort meal by now.
He took a deep breath at let it out slowly. He almost didn't mind being sober...almost.