Martin Darkov - 8th generation (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theguideless) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-07-05 08:47 pm
theguideless) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-07-05 08:47 pm
no this is the opposite of what i wanted [OPEN]
Date & Time: 7/5-7/10, typically in the late-late hours
Location: All over
Characters: Martin and many! YOU??
Summary: What a concept RUNNING INTO PEOPLE IN AN URBAN AREA.
Warnings: Martin is a gigantic sinkhole of misery and more misery it might make you want to throw your computer but please COME AT ME BRO
Hiding was a lot easier before the mission came along. It seemed the city was waking up, slowly but surely, to embrace the evening a little more than it did before. Lights from windows gave the streets a dim glow, played tricks with the shadows Martin's eyes were trained to follow and focus on. It was weird and unpleasant. Better for the people, maybe. But that wasn't any of his business. It never was.
He never did the right thing, whether he tried or not. Or maybe he did, but he was just unable to follow through. Either way, things would get worse, someone would get hurt...die...
He'd been training, best he could. Then that mission happened. Then, in that jungle...
It's all my fault.
If he walked fast enough, it would fall to the back of his mind, right? Or ran...
His shape flickered off walls in those glowing squares. Now and then, he saw the beams of lights of a late, late (or early) bus, and he'd skirt away like a frightened cockroach. There were quieter, empty places. Places to hide. And he'd find them, if he kept moving.
Location: All over
Characters: Martin and many! YOU??
Summary: What a concept RUNNING INTO PEOPLE IN AN URBAN AREA.
Warnings: Martin is a gigantic sinkhole of misery and more misery it might make you want to throw your computer but please COME AT ME BRO
Hiding was a lot easier before the mission came along. It seemed the city was waking up, slowly but surely, to embrace the evening a little more than it did before. Lights from windows gave the streets a dim glow, played tricks with the shadows Martin's eyes were trained to follow and focus on. It was weird and unpleasant. Better for the people, maybe. But that wasn't any of his business. It never was.
He never did the right thing, whether he tried or not. Or maybe he did, but he was just unable to follow through. Either way, things would get worse, someone would get hurt...die...
He'd been training, best he could. Then that mission happened. Then, in that jungle...
It's all my fault.
If he walked fast enough, it would fall to the back of his mind, right? Or ran...
His shape flickered off walls in those glowing squares. Now and then, he saw the beams of lights of a late, late (or early) bus, and he'd skirt away like a frightened cockroach. There were quieter, empty places. Places to hide. And he'd find them, if he kept moving.
no subject
His voice felt thick coming out.
"Martin. I'm a Darkov." As if anyone even understands that here. "Goodbye."
no subject
“Goodbye, Martin.”
no subject
I shouldn't have said anything, he thought miserably. I should've just run away.