Johan Liebert (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uglyinside) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardmeridiem2012-02-17 08:22 pm
uglyinside) wrote in asgardmeridiem2012-02-17 08:22 pm
[ OPEN! ]
Who: Johan Liebert uglyinside, The Gefion Park Carriage Driver He Named Otto, hotshit Claire Stanfield, and others!
What: The night of the Valentine's Ball, a carriage driver dies. His body is discovered in an apparent suicide. It appears that regaining your emotions brings along the ugly ones, too!
When: Feb 14th, 11 PM.
Where: The Arena.
Rating: Mature for ...death and stuff? idk, it's not that bad.
Like a watermelon hitting the ground.
The two of them sat at the edge. Johan had decided to give the carriage driver a name.
Your name is Otto, he said.
When the man's face started to appear, and his words were spoken with liveliness, Johan never bothered to find out his real name, and the man never bothered to tell him. They had spent every other night walking together. They talked about what Johan wanted to hear, and shared what Johan wanted shared. Grateful, the Driver seemed to form an attachment, one that Johan predicted and anticipated accordingly. That night, with the festivities of the Ball going on elsewhere, the two of them sat at the edge of the world. The carriage driver had no wife. No children. He didn't seem to have many people in the village that he specifically wanted to cure of their sickness. Instead, he was more focused on the man who had saved him.
"I've heard that people sink three times before drowning," Johan's words came out calmly, staring up at the stars with a distant wonder. In contrast, the man who sat beside him stared down at the ground with unease.
"You rise and sink three times. Imagine what it would be like to be doing that for years. Would air ever become less precious to you?"
The carriage driver quirked an eyebrow at Johan, his features a faded image on his face, but there.
"You say such weird things."
"I do?"
A comfortable silence cloaked the atmosphere around them, as the grey clouds above drifted across the moon. A pitiful light squeezed itself out in an attempt to reach the scene beneath it, but the carriage driver notices how much darker it's become.
"Isn't it strange?" Johan's inquiring words dripped with a soothing, almost hypnotic quality to the driver, as he listened and watched the man's lips. "How your illness is being cured, and yet you have no one?" He inclined his head, his hand moving over to cover the driver's and push his fingers in the spaces between his own.
"You're still all alone." He stated it plainly, tone flattened and without much sympathy.
"That's not true," Otto protested without a pause of silence, looking down at Johan's hand and then over to him with a gleam of desperation in his eyes. "I have you."
His eyes fell on the formerly faceless man in an unfocused manner, as if he were looking right through him or past him. Johan's hand slipped away from over Otto's, and rose to softly rest against his back.
"You're still all alone."
Like a watermelon hitting the ground. It was always the same sound. That same splash.
uglyinside, The Gefion Park Carriage Driver He Named Otto, hotshit Claire Stanfield, and others!What: The night of the Valentine's Ball, a carriage driver dies. His body is discovered in an apparent suicide. It appears that regaining your emotions brings along the ugly ones, too!
When: Feb 14th, 11 PM.
Where: The Arena.
Rating: Mature for ...death and stuff? idk, it's not that bad.
Like a watermelon hitting the ground.
The two of them sat at the edge. Johan had decided to give the carriage driver a name.
Your name is Otto, he said.
When the man's face started to appear, and his words were spoken with liveliness, Johan never bothered to find out his real name, and the man never bothered to tell him. They had spent every other night walking together. They talked about what Johan wanted to hear, and shared what Johan wanted shared. Grateful, the Driver seemed to form an attachment, one that Johan predicted and anticipated accordingly. That night, with the festivities of the Ball going on elsewhere, the two of them sat at the edge of the world. The carriage driver had no wife. No children. He didn't seem to have many people in the village that he specifically wanted to cure of their sickness. Instead, he was more focused on the man who had saved him.
"I've heard that people sink three times before drowning," Johan's words came out calmly, staring up at the stars with a distant wonder. In contrast, the man who sat beside him stared down at the ground with unease.
"You rise and sink three times. Imagine what it would be like to be doing that for years. Would air ever become less precious to you?"
The carriage driver quirked an eyebrow at Johan, his features a faded image on his face, but there.
"You say such weird things."
"I do?"
A comfortable silence cloaked the atmosphere around them, as the grey clouds above drifted across the moon. A pitiful light squeezed itself out in an attempt to reach the scene beneath it, but the carriage driver notices how much darker it's become.
"Isn't it strange?" Johan's inquiring words dripped with a soothing, almost hypnotic quality to the driver, as he listened and watched the man's lips. "How your illness is being cured, and yet you have no one?" He inclined his head, his hand moving over to cover the driver's and push his fingers in the spaces between his own.
"You're still all alone." He stated it plainly, tone flattened and without much sympathy.
"That's not true," Otto protested without a pause of silence, looking down at Johan's hand and then over to him with a gleam of desperation in his eyes. "I have you."
His eyes fell on the formerly faceless man in an unfocused manner, as if he were looking right through him or past him. Johan's hand slipped away from over Otto's, and rose to softly rest against his back.
"You're still all alone."
Like a watermelon hitting the ground. It was always the same sound. That same splash.
no subject
[They're approaching the Heimdall house now.] It's too bad you probably will never get to experience the kind of love I have to offer.
no subject
That's... too bad. [ He looks over at Claire, wistfully. ] So you don't think I'm good enough for it, right?
I think I could offer you a great love, myself.
no subject
no subject
Of course I would.
no subject
Why's that? Don't I frighten you?
no subject
I suppose so. But, you know, love frightens me too. A lot of things that can be good for us are also scary for us.
no subject
Well, if that's true, then I guess it'd be all right if I asked you to marry me. Though, I should be honest with you before I let you consider taking me up on my offer.
I've killed a lot of people and I don't plan on stopping any time soon.
no subject
no subject
I'll take that as a no, then.
no subject
He stops in front of the door, turning to face Claire. ]
Of course it is. After all, you're a monster.
no subject
[He stops in front of him, with a fair amount of distance between them.]
no subject
[ He tilts his head a bit. ]
no subject
But usually they don't necessarily need to know I'm human, 'cause they die very soon afterwards. What'd be the point in correcting them, then?
1/2
no subject
Have a good night.
no subject
Aww, man. All that wasted effort.
no subject
You did tell me you wanted honesty. [ He looks down at the wig. ]
If only you were honest about that marriage offer. Ah, well. I do hope you enjoyed the festivities of the night.
no subject
[He gives a shrug.] I appreciate the honesty. I was about to force it out of you, but it seems as though you finally know better than to try and fool me.
[He turns!]
no subject
She doesn't know anything but what she's been forced to be.
no subject
no subject