Toshio Ozaki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sotobas_lot) wrote2012-02-20 12:36 pm
sotobas_lot) wrote2012-02-20 12:36 pm
[Real Life with DM and BRS]
[He's re-watched the tapes. Their interruption is a moment now permanently on video. His wife's actual death is, too, but he doesn't have the technology to merge VHS with some digital video format into one place.
In the end doesn't this black and white mess look like some college film student's horror project? That's what he thought of even the technicolor displays on the community at first.
It probably wouldn't convince anyone without physically present, tangible proof, like a cold, moving body.
Then again, his wife's disappearance, without a funeral, might turn them on him; they could think he was the mastermind behind everything. He was very good at failing to save them. If they had wanted to control the doctor of the town, they would have puppetted him exactly as he'd acted; concerned, desperate, but ineffective. The difference was that if he did it himself, he could do it in the day time.
But he's not suicidal, and he's not that ready to throw away everything, even if he seems ready to throw in the towel. Making himself a mastermind and revealing a false plan to get the town into a flurry that would probably only get them all killed isn't appealing beyond a self indulgent fantasy of ruining things for everybody.
That's... an unsettlingly Kefka-like thought. Disgusting.
He needs get get out. He can still walk in the sunlight for a little longer. Dead Master is here. So he, at least, will probably always be safe. The question is in what kind of world. Even going out into the village, there won't be much of anybody left to meet, and the mood won't be cheerful.
Still, he can't bring himself to talk to anybody in the house. His mother's a difficult woman even without her rants about supposing his wife ran away back home at a time like this, just because she was feeling ill. It was his own cover story, so he had to live with it, but... It was going to be found out eventually.
Everything felt like a ticking time bomb.
Then there was Dead Master.
She stopped him. He'd look like the villain here, he had said. He's hesitated too much; now she could take the blame as part of that party.
No. That wasn't what was uncomfortable.
She...
Never mind.
Just walk. Just get out for a little while.]
In the end doesn't this black and white mess look like some college film student's horror project? That's what he thought of even the technicolor displays on the community at first.
It probably wouldn't convince anyone without physically present, tangible proof, like a cold, moving body.
Then again, his wife's disappearance, without a funeral, might turn them on him; they could think he was the mastermind behind everything. He was very good at failing to save them. If they had wanted to control the doctor of the town, they would have puppetted him exactly as he'd acted; concerned, desperate, but ineffective. The difference was that if he did it himself, he could do it in the day time.
But he's not suicidal, and he's not that ready to throw away everything, even if he seems ready to throw in the towel. Making himself a mastermind and revealing a false plan to get the town into a flurry that would probably only get them all killed isn't appealing beyond a self indulgent fantasy of ruining things for everybody.
That's... an unsettlingly Kefka-like thought. Disgusting.
He needs get get out. He can still walk in the sunlight for a little longer. Dead Master is here. So he, at least, will probably always be safe. The question is in what kind of world. Even going out into the village, there won't be much of anybody left to meet, and the mood won't be cheerful.
Still, he can't bring himself to talk to anybody in the house. His mother's a difficult woman even without her rants about supposing his wife ran away back home at a time like this, just because she was feeling ill. It was his own cover story, so he had to live with it, but... It was going to be found out eventually.
Everything felt like a ticking time bomb.
Then there was Dead Master.
She stopped him. He'd look like the villain here, he had said. He's hesitated too much; now she could take the blame as part of that party.
No. That wasn't what was uncomfortable.
She...
Never mind.
Just walk. Just get out for a little while.]
no subject
Shooter, your words are reassuring. ]
no subject
what else are we going to do here in the meantime?]
no subject
I may show Shooter, or
what we may do