EMPATHY - (He’s talking, this is good. You’re doing good. You’re helping him. He wants to die a little less right now. Or he’s stopped actively thinking about it as much.)
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - (Look at that energy. This is probably the most he’s said in days.)
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - (You used to do this for him. You used to be good for him. In the old days you’d bring him food. Make sure he ate and get him talking. More of the same the next day. Slowly you'd lure him out of his apartment with the jogging. Jean's a lot like an ornery horse. He needs steadiness.)
“…yeah. Loud.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY - (Horrible place to be hungover. The clomping of boots, constantly. Then the smells. You weren’t the only person throwing up in the trash bins.)
PAIN THRESHOLD - (You can hear a pen drop from across the room. Twisting knives in the back of your hangover. Fuck McLaine and his little girl laugh. Squealing bastard.)
EMPATHY - (No privacy to cry in peace. Everyone knows everything.)
HALF LIGHT - (Smothering closeness. Sweat and unwashed male bodies packed together like horses. And you, always twitching and pacing. Like a tiger. You nearly mauled a young patrol officer who startled you.)
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - (That was *your* fault, you brute. Jean handled it.)
“I remembered uh. Finding a burger in the trash I guess…”
HALF LIGHT - (Muffled screaming from the holding cells, the closest any room got to being soundproofed. McCoy stomping his boots on the stairs out of the dungeon, hollering for Gottlieb. He’s a sloppy trigger happy maniac. He'll never make captain. Things started going sour between you after that first Yefreitor. And his big loud voice booms. “Been an accident down here!”)
COMPOSURE - (And everyone looks the other way.)
INLAND EMPIRE - (Don’t go there. Don’t go down to the dungeon. You don’t have to remember it.)
VOLITION - (Pull back. Now.)
“Gave that shithole 10 years maximum before it collapses on us all.”
cw police brutality
EMPATHY - (He’s talking, this is good. You’re doing good. You’re helping him. He wants to die a little less right now. Or he’s stopped actively thinking about it as much.)
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - (Look at that energy. This is probably the most he’s said in days.)
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - (You used to do this for him. You used to be good for him. In the old days you’d bring him food. Make sure he ate and get him talking. More of the same the next day. Slowly you'd lure him out of his apartment with the jogging. Jean's a lot like an ornery horse. He needs steadiness.)
“…yeah. Loud.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY - (Horrible place to be hungover. The clomping of boots, constantly. Then the smells. You weren’t the only person throwing up in the trash bins.)
PAIN THRESHOLD - (You can hear a pen drop from across the room. Twisting knives in the back of your hangover. Fuck McLaine and his little girl laugh. Squealing bastard.)
EMPATHY - (No privacy to cry in peace. Everyone knows everything.)
HALF LIGHT - (Smothering closeness. Sweat and unwashed male bodies packed together like horses. And you, always twitching and pacing. Like a tiger. You nearly mauled a young patrol officer who startled you.)
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - (That was *your* fault, you brute. Jean handled it.)
“I remembered uh. Finding a burger in the trash I guess…”
HALF LIGHT - (Muffled screaming from the holding cells, the closest any room got to being soundproofed. McCoy stomping his boots on the stairs out of the dungeon, hollering for Gottlieb. He’s a sloppy trigger happy maniac. He'll never make captain. Things started going sour between you after that first Yefreitor. And his big loud voice booms. “Been an accident down here!”)
COMPOSURE - (And everyone looks the other way.)
INLAND EMPIRE - (Don’t go there. Don’t go down to the dungeon. You don’t have to remember it.)
VOLITION - (Pull back. Now.)
“Gave that shithole 10 years maximum before it collapses on us all.”