Re: Journal of Sociology [S!6] - [Round One: The Pacific Spire]
09-12-2012, 01:04 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Blake pressed on up the stairway as soon as he felt up to moving again. He didn’t want to hang around in case Nemo decided to come after him, although after what had just happened in the hallway he didn’t think he would seek a direct confrontation he obviously couldn’t be sure. Maybe he shouldn’t have left him his gun, though truth be told he couldn’t say that leaving the weapon behind had been a conscious decision. Very little of what had happened in that hallway had been a conscious decision. The lights had flickered and then in the dark some instinct had took over and for a moment he had felt like he was outside himself, like he’d just been taken along for the ride.
Maybe someone else might have been concerned about this, or at the very least about the near death experience that he had just had, Blake felt elated. He felt exhilarated, and in a way he hadn’t when he’d slashed a couple of guards' necks. That had been a matter of business and not pleasure, there had been no joy derived from that act. But what was different? What had happened? Blake found it impossible to place his finger upon the difference between these two incidents. He could deal with that later, he thought. Slowly as he ascended the stairs he remembered that he had more important matters; a fraudulent spineless copy of him out there purporting to be the real him. Before he had been waylaid in a coerced hunt for parachutes he’d come to the highest floor in the hope that he could turn the building against himself, or well, his other self.
Blake froze and frowned. He distinctly remembered taking the elevator to the highest floor, and yet he was still ascending. For a moment he felt a little perturbed, a little unsure and uncertain. It was a stupid concern, he reasoned, some buildings have floors that cannot be accessed by the main elevators and this was just that. If he went to the doorway and opened it up he would find a corridor almost identical to the ones he had been in previously (except perhaps a little swankier given that these would be the executive floors), this he was almost certain of, and to prove himself correct he ascended the remaining steps to take him to the next floor up and slowly opened the door.
Beyond the door… was a corridor much like the corridors he had previously experienced, except perhaps a little more sterile and unwelcoming. Blake almost breathed a sigh of relief; though he was reluctant to admit it for a moment there he had let his imagination run away with him. There was probably an executive elevator somewhere that catered to these highest floors. A number of scientific types in labcoats and goggles hurried past and Blake slipped into the corridor behind them.
Blake pressed on up the stairway as soon as he felt up to moving again. He didn’t want to hang around in case Nemo decided to come after him, although after what had just happened in the hallway he didn’t think he would seek a direct confrontation he obviously couldn’t be sure. Maybe he shouldn’t have left him his gun, though truth be told he couldn’t say that leaving the weapon behind had been a conscious decision. Very little of what had happened in that hallway had been a conscious decision. The lights had flickered and then in the dark some instinct had took over and for a moment he had felt like he was outside himself, like he’d just been taken along for the ride.
Maybe someone else might have been concerned about this, or at the very least about the near death experience that he had just had, Blake felt elated. He felt exhilarated, and in a way he hadn’t when he’d slashed a couple of guards' necks. That had been a matter of business and not pleasure, there had been no joy derived from that act. But what was different? What had happened? Blake found it impossible to place his finger upon the difference between these two incidents. He could deal with that later, he thought. Slowly as he ascended the stairs he remembered that he had more important matters; a fraudulent spineless copy of him out there purporting to be the real him. Before he had been waylaid in a coerced hunt for parachutes he’d come to the highest floor in the hope that he could turn the building against himself, or well, his other self.
Blake froze and frowned. He distinctly remembered taking the elevator to the highest floor, and yet he was still ascending. For a moment he felt a little perturbed, a little unsure and uncertain. It was a stupid concern, he reasoned, some buildings have floors that cannot be accessed by the main elevators and this was just that. If he went to the doorway and opened it up he would find a corridor almost identical to the ones he had been in previously (except perhaps a little swankier given that these would be the executive floors), this he was almost certain of, and to prove himself correct he ascended the remaining steps to take him to the next floor up and slowly opened the door.
Beyond the door… was a corridor much like the corridors he had previously experienced, except perhaps a little more sterile and unwelcoming. Blake almost breathed a sigh of relief; though he was reluctant to admit it for a moment there he had let his imagination run away with him. There was probably an executive elevator somewhere that catered to these highest floors. A number of scientific types in labcoats and goggles hurried past and Blake slipped into the corridor behind them.
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You