Karrie (Vandal) Norton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vandalization) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2012-12-16 07:07 pm
vandalization) wrote in re_alignment_logs2012-12-16 07:07 pm
Entry tags:
- !open,
- brave police: j-decker | kagerou,
- tf: g1 | thundercracker,
- tf: idw | drift,
- tf: idw | perceptor,
- tf: idw | wing,
- ✘ ace attorney | kay faraday,
- ✘ dead space | vandal,
- ✘ fate/stay night | arturia pendragon,
- ✘ tf: idw | ultra magnus,
- ✘ tf: prime | wheeljack,
- ✘ tf: shattered glass | soundwave (crau)
Hallways always [OPEN]
who: Vandal and any visitors. [OPEN]
what: Vandal is bed-bound, recovering from her month-long detainment and torture.
when: All this week.
where: The Medbay
warnings: very yes
notes: Tag in your own threads, it can be set during any point in the week.
The beep of the monitors is loud with her head this eerily silent. Whatever he did to her, between the needles and questioning, he separated it. Took something. Now that static in her head is far quieter. It's almost as maddening as when it was present.
Now she's almost lonely without it. Well- she was lonely before, but now even more so.
She doesn't sleep, no. It's not safe to sleep anymore. She wants to scream every time she's left alone, but it's not practical to have someone with her all the time. Prism is dead, the Gatherer is dead, but the way she goes back to that place every time she shuts her eyes.
So she lays in a space between waking and sleep, startling back to consciousness every tie she starts to drift. Shaking. Thinking about it. What it did to her.
She reaches up to smooth a finger over the gauze covering what used to be her right eye.
Ruined. He ruined her worse than the church did. The mental, the physical.
Everything. Ruined.
She wishes they'd have killed her when they found her.
But she's also a coward, and afraid of death, so here she sits and lets the stitches heal.
what: Vandal is bed-bound, recovering from her month-long detainment and torture.
when: All this week.
where: The Medbay
warnings: very yes
notes: Tag in your own threads, it can be set during any point in the week.
The beep of the monitors is loud with her head this eerily silent. Whatever he did to her, between the needles and questioning, he separated it. Took something. Now that static in her head is far quieter. It's almost as maddening as when it was present.
Now she's almost lonely without it. Well- she was lonely before, but now even more so.
She doesn't sleep, no. It's not safe to sleep anymore. She wants to scream every time she's left alone, but it's not practical to have someone with her all the time. Prism is dead, the Gatherer is dead, but the way she goes back to that place every time she shuts her eyes.
So she lays in a space between waking and sleep, startling back to consciousness every tie she starts to drift. Shaking. Thinking about it. What it did to her.
She reaches up to smooth a finger over the gauze covering what used to be her right eye.
Ruined. He ruined her worse than the church did. The mental, the physical.
Everything. Ruined.
She wishes they'd have killed her when they found her.
But she's also a coward, and afraid of death, so here she sits and lets the stitches heal.