Chuck Shurley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godsprophet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-10-16 12:06 am
godsprophet) wrote in kore_logs2013-10-16 12:06 am
Entry tags:
'listen to the warning' the prophet he said
Who: Chuck Shurley and OPEN.
What: There's only one way forward, and this is it.
When: Day 121.
Where: The tunnels.
Notes: No, really, this is wide open. I made very little OOC plans so come at me.
What: There's only one way forward, and this is it.
When: Day 121.
Where: The tunnels.
Notes: No, really, this is wide open. I made very little OOC plans so come at me.
Raphael had come by earlier and said he would actually bodily drag Chuck into the tunnels if he didn't go willingly. But it didn't seem like he had an option either way. Earthquakes kept shifting below his feet -- it seemed to be tearing the entire cape apart. He had no doubt that, if he stayed, he wouldn't be alive to see whatever happened to the little town where they were held captive.
Chuck spends most of the time trying to decide what to take with him. Specifically, his typewriter. Balthazar had gotten it for him, and he'd used it well. It seemed like a shame to leave it behind. But, on the other hand, it wasn't exactly lucrative to go about dragging a typewriter through a series of tunnels who knows how long. He reluctantly leaves it behind.
He enters the tunnels alone and is glad he did. The effect is so instantaneous and so sudden he nearly trips over himself. Because, while he might not use all the omniscient and omnipotent powers he has at his disposal, he's always aware that it's there, hiding underneath his fingertips. But now, in these tunnels, it's gone. Vanished. Disappeared. He's honestly nothing more than the human he pretends to be.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of the amount of power this place -- these scientists -- hold over him, and it's not one he appreciates. He's never felt truly powerless, literally and figuratively, before, and he does not approve of these feelings in himself whatsoever.
But there's no place to go but forward. And so forward into the tunnels he goes.
Chuck spends most of the time trying to decide what to take with him. Specifically, his typewriter. Balthazar had gotten it for him, and he'd used it well. It seemed like a shame to leave it behind. But, on the other hand, it wasn't exactly lucrative to go about dragging a typewriter through a series of tunnels who knows how long. He reluctantly leaves it behind.
He enters the tunnels alone and is glad he did. The effect is so instantaneous and so sudden he nearly trips over himself. Because, while he might not use all the omniscient and omnipotent powers he has at his disposal, he's always aware that it's there, hiding underneath his fingertips. But now, in these tunnels, it's gone. Vanished. Disappeared. He's honestly nothing more than the human he pretends to be.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of the amount of power this place -- these scientists -- hold over him, and it's not one he appreciates. He's never felt truly powerless, literally and figuratively, before, and he does not approve of these feelings in himself whatsoever.
But there's no place to go but forward. And so forward into the tunnels he goes.
no subject
"Well, you're human now, right?" Because whatever was powerful enough to damp his powers would definitely damp the angels. "So, yeah. You need water. And food." Dehydration and hunger pains would no doubt look ugly on angels, and Chuck would like to avoid that if all possible. They hadn't been in the tunnels long enough to kill anyone, but it would be annoying and bothersome.
no subject
He frowns in thought, opening the jar slowly. The water does have a certain allure suddenly, and his mouth feels weirdly dry. This is thirst? How unpleasant. "I'm not human, I'm just...bound. You'd better drink first. I'm not sure where to start and stop."