Allison Argent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-11 01:14 pm
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-11 01:14 pm
31} just like a needle in a haystack, another day when we run with the wolfpack...
{forward dated to tomorrow, because the mun is impatient. :P}
[ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC VIDEO]
[When the feed flickers to life, it shows an unconscious Allison Argent, head half-buried in her pillow. The arm she has flung out towards the camera, fingertips looming large in the shot, show that she's the culprit who activated the transmission: more likely than not, she roused just enough to roll over and, in a sleepy haze, shut off a nonexistent alarm, inadvertently flicking on her video feed.
The dead transmission continues on until it is interrupted...she may be asleep, but Allison Argent's coma is officially over.]
[OPEN SPAM]
[Allison is in a miserable mood by the time she finally showers and gets dressed, heading to the dining hall to eat. For a while, she walks the corridors of the ship, just to stretch her legs and really start to feel awake again, with stops to pick up Brownie and Duchess along the way.
Once Brownie has been walked, unwilling to separate from them just yet, Allison finally heads for the pub. The keys jingle in her hand with a sad, hollow sound.
She files in with Brownie on her heels, surveying the place with a sigh. She'd requested custody of the place just after she realized Duke was gone, then fallen into another stupid coma before she could take proper care of it.
She missed him...Jesus, she missed him.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to slip behind the bar, setting Duchess down on the end with her bandanna, some hay, and one of her chew toys to amuse her. Ever the responsible "mother," Brownie planted herself to lay on the floor directly under Duchess's perch while Allison began to shuffle around, looking over the glasses, booze, and anything else Duke might have left behind.
It was her place now...she had to learn how to keep it running.]
[ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC VIDEO]
[When the feed flickers to life, it shows an unconscious Allison Argent, head half-buried in her pillow. The arm she has flung out towards the camera, fingertips looming large in the shot, show that she's the culprit who activated the transmission: more likely than not, she roused just enough to roll over and, in a sleepy haze, shut off a nonexistent alarm, inadvertently flicking on her video feed.
The dead transmission continues on until it is interrupted...she may be asleep, but Allison Argent's coma is officially over.]
[OPEN SPAM]
[Allison is in a miserable mood by the time she finally showers and gets dressed, heading to the dining hall to eat. For a while, she walks the corridors of the ship, just to stretch her legs and really start to feel awake again, with stops to pick up Brownie and Duchess along the way.
Once Brownie has been walked, unwilling to separate from them just yet, Allison finally heads for the pub. The keys jingle in her hand with a sad, hollow sound.
She files in with Brownie on her heels, surveying the place with a sigh. She'd requested custody of the place just after she realized Duke was gone, then fallen into another stupid coma before she could take proper care of it.
She missed him...Jesus, she missed him.
Taking a deep breath, she walked over to slip behind the bar, setting Duchess down on the end with her bandanna, some hay, and one of her chew toys to amuse her. Ever the responsible "mother," Brownie planted herself to lay on the floor directly under Duchess's perch while Allison began to shuffle around, looking over the glasses, booze, and anything else Duke might have left behind.
It was her place now...she had to learn how to keep it running.]
[spam]
I was assigned to Arthas, as a temporary Warden this month. Letty told me he was going to come after her when he got out of zero and I wanted to make sure he couldn't hurt anyone.
[Her face falls and she shakes her head slightly, trying not to move much not to disturb Allison.]
I ended up hurting him instead.
[spam]
She doesn't know Arthas well...but she knows enough about him to be perplexed.]
Arthas? Sweetie...how did you hurt Arthas?
[spam]
She hates repeating this story, but it also serves her as a reminds of what not to do next time.]
Letty told me he was going to kill her, or try to, when he got out of zero. I wanted to stop him from killing anyone. But I also wanted him to understand what was happening, so I knew that just removing his will to kill wouldn't work.
[She sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes.]
I turned him into a rabbit. I made him powerless, defenseless, and trapped him into a body that wasn't his.
[spam]
[Allison blinked, shocked for the moment. For one thing, she's not sure how she could have done that (unless Dillon could turn people into rabbits, the way he turned Jerry human? The Admiral wasn't likely to approve a request like that...). For another, it was so...extreme. There were other ways, and Lydia was a creative person, but a rabbit?]
Sweetie, why? There are a million other ways you could have stopped him. [There's no judgment in her gentle tone, and her hand drifts up to stroke Lydia's hair, straying to occasionally smooth a stray tendril back against her temple or off her forehead.] You could have asked the Admiral to make it impossible for him to touch a weapon, or you could have had him assigned to work in the infirmary for a while and had the Admiral restrict his movements...or you could have asked the Admiral to give Letty some kind of protection. You could have asked the Admiral for anything else...why did you ask for that?
[spam]
[She sighs deeply, letting Allison talk. But starts to shake her head as she goes on. Lydia sits up slightly so she can look at her best friend as she tells her this:]
The Admiral isn't here, Allison. I didn't ask for anything, I just-- did it myself. We don't know what's happening, but he seems to be gone and we can do things. Things only he could do.