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[day 156; open]
Jan. 23rd, 2014 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
somerelianceWho: Watson and Open.
When: Day 156
Where: the atrium
What: dog days.
Warning: violence. strange comedy. John Watson with a sword.
It was a grim sight. On the first day into the invasion; which was what John privately thought of it, even if there hadn't been any kind of official notification. By the second day, things seemed like a nightmare come to life. If he'd had any lingering doubt about the strange, other worldly quality of this place, it was all but vanished upon the first blood welling bite.
Rather luckily, John had been heading into his own room at the time. A quick slam of the door had dislodged that particular dog's efforts. Still. It took a moment for him to work through the reality of the situation. He'd been tricked once before, into believing that a killer canine was after him. This wasn't the hallucinogen and shadows playing havoc with his mind though.
This was bitter horror.
John's next worry was for Sherlock, and Mary, and Meja. (and more or less just anyone else in the building, yes, even Gabriel) So he went and tried tracking down those dearest to him. More or less successfully in some cases.
When he found Meja, he'd discovered another interesting fact. She had a spare sword, broad and well balanced. His normal talents were well into the area of sharp shooting, but gunless, he fell back on other kinds of military training and sheer determination.
On the third day; John was walking through the Atrium of the building. He'd encountered one roaming pack the night before, but hadn't found someplace safe to hold up in for a quick nap. Needless to say, Watson was a tired man, but he soldiered on.
When: Day 156
Where: the atrium
What: dog days.
Warning: violence. strange comedy. John Watson with a sword.
It was a grim sight. On the first day into the invasion; which was what John privately thought of it, even if there hadn't been any kind of official notification. By the second day, things seemed like a nightmare come to life. If he'd had any lingering doubt about the strange, other worldly quality of this place, it was all but vanished upon the first blood welling bite.
Rather luckily, John had been heading into his own room at the time. A quick slam of the door had dislodged that particular dog's efforts. Still. It took a moment for him to work through the reality of the situation. He'd been tricked once before, into believing that a killer canine was after him. This wasn't the hallucinogen and shadows playing havoc with his mind though.
This was bitter horror.
John's next worry was for Sherlock, and Mary, and Meja. (and more or less just anyone else in the building, yes, even Gabriel) So he went and tried tracking down those dearest to him. More or less successfully in some cases.
When he found Meja, he'd discovered another interesting fact. She had a spare sword, broad and well balanced. His normal talents were well into the area of sharp shooting, but gunless, he fell back on other kinds of military training and sheer determination.
On the third day; John was walking through the Atrium of the building. He'd encountered one roaming pack the night before, but hadn't found someplace safe to hold up in for a quick nap. Needless to say, Watson was a tired man, but he soldiered on.