Elle Bishop (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
not_myfirstday) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalost2009-12-17 04:22 pm
not_myfirstday) wrote in paradisalost2009-12-17 04:22 pm
Entry tags:
033 ϟ ring christmas bells
[Private - handwritten]
I feel pulled in two different directions. I could think of some sort of metaphor about running alternate current over direct, but I'm not even going to try and be that lame right now. It's bad enough that I have no clue if I should get people things for the holiday, or if I should just ignore it.
At least in Hartsdale, I knew what to expect for Christmas. One lame Company party with everyone trying to prove they weren't who the rest of them think they are.
I doubt there's going to be much Christmas celebrating back home now. Everyone dies back there anyway. Pretty soon it'll just be Claire, the last one standing, living forever, and ever, and ever. Maybe Angela too, she'll probably figure out some way to be in charge forever.
I shouldn't care what these people think. I'm dead back home, so whatever I do here isn't going to change what goes on there. Going out in the cold, letting all that anger out, it actually feels good. I'm good at this. We're good at this, and when there are people with bombs and ridiculous plots to draw attention to the things they're doing? Why should I even worry?
Maybe I'll get Molly something for Christmas. That's at least something.
---
[Elle tucks the journal into her jacket pocket, and heads outside into the cold air. It's dry air, the kind that freezes your lungs if you breathe in deep, which makes it ideal for her natural ability to have a bit more 'accidental spark' to it.]
[ooc: Feel free to bump into her outside for random kisses, or accidental static shock!]
I feel pulled in two different directions. I could think of some sort of metaphor about running alternate current over direct, but I'm not even going to try and be that lame right now. It's bad enough that I have no clue if I should get people things for the holiday, or if I should just ignore it.
At least in Hartsdale, I knew what to expect for Christmas. One lame Company party with everyone trying to prove they weren't who the rest of them think they are.
I doubt there's going to be much Christmas celebrating back home now. Everyone dies back there anyway. Pretty soon it'll just be Claire, the last one standing, living forever, and ever, and ever. Maybe Angela too, she'll probably figure out some way to be in charge forever.
I shouldn't care what these people think. I'm dead back home, so whatever I do here isn't going to change what goes on there. Going out in the cold, letting all that anger out, it actually feels good. I'm good at this. We're good at this, and when there are people with bombs and ridiculous plots to draw attention to the things they're doing? Why should I even worry?
Maybe I'll get Molly something for Christmas. That's at least something.
---
[Elle tucks the journal into her jacket pocket, and heads outside into the cold air. It's dry air, the kind that freezes your lungs if you breathe in deep, which makes it ideal for her natural ability to have a bit more 'accidental spark' to it.]
[ooc: Feel free to bump into her outside for random kisses, or accidental static shock!]
1/2
Sor--
no subject
--ryyyyyyyy!
no subject
It's alright, it happens.