[sunday reveries] margaret mitchell quote
Jun. 22nd, 2009 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magic_fratboyTakes place after this, this, and this.. Backdated to yesterday.
Life is under no obligation to give you what you expect.
====================
“OW!!! Shit!!!”
Cursing, he brought his throbbing middle finger to his mouth, but even the moist heat and pressure weren’t easing the pain. Lowering his hand, he cursed long and hard, this time in silence, when he saw the crack in his nail running into the quick and the well of red already appearing in the nail bed.
Forcing himself to block out the pain, Tommy gathered his focus and planted the bracelet against the wall again, throwing his body into the force of smashing it as hard as he could. The antique handcuffs, using a single-action spring to lock, were identical to the pair that already lay on the floor of the cell. The second pair was newer and had far less play, making it harder to slam them with enough pressure to pop the cuff, and far too easy to smash a finger in something.
It took him three more tries before he finally sprang the first bracelet, then twice more to get the second one off. Squatting, he picked up the key he’d spat out earlier and with some help from his lips and teeth, managed to open one shackle and then the other.
That left him with two pairs of cuffs, the boot, and the door…and not a lot of time left.
You were an idiot to do it this way. he chided himself, feeling the first creeping touch of self doubt as he stood and lumbered across the cell. Against the far wall, he could see them glittering like an old friend, wedged in the corner where one wall met another. In the low light, it was hard to see the outline of the length of plastic tubing that waited for him, much less the slim silver wire that was nested inside of it…
* * * * *
“As you can see, it’s not real big, but it served its purpose back in the day.”
Tommy nodded, stepping into the confines of the darkened cell he’d be occupying for his escape the next day, trying not to let the history and heaviness of the small space frighten him. He was alone for his tour of the jail, but in the RV, Zee and May were waiting for him. Their presence helped stave off any small hold the Darkness might try to get on him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, swallowing hard as he palmed the small bundle of steel and plastic in one hand, moving forward to press his hand to the far wall, as if testing its strength. “It’s definitely solid…”
When he moved his hand away, it sat firm in the juncture between walls, waiting for him.
Moving out of the cell as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion, Tommy turned to Louis, the curator, and smiled. “What about the rest of these cells? Could I see the one next door?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Karras…right over here…”
* * * * *
Crouched on the floor, Tommy focused on getting the wire into the cuff and began listening for the sounds he needed…the shift of tumblers, the click of finding the right bend in the right location. It was a struggle to keep his power at bay, but if he kept his mind on what he knew, on how the cuffs worked instead of how they opened, the pull of energy that preceded miracles subsided and left his mind to do the work for him.
The cuffs were similar to their future plastic cousins, a pair of notched steel ties secured with a lock at each wrist. Even now, they bit into his skin hard and made him regret his choice of keys to smuggle into his cell. The second pair above them was of no concern: having been secured high up on his forearms, the bracelets would slide off easily once he finished with this pair that lay between himself and freedom.
You need power to do this. You can’t get out on your own. You made a mistake, and now you will be humiliated.
“Know what else I can do? Find the human death that’s waiting for me, end this before it even begins.” He snarled out loud to an empty cell without looking up from the lock an inch from his face. He could still hear the tumblers, he could still see the shift of the pick as he tested the weight up and down, left and right. Breathing in, he focused on the energy outside the jailhouse, filling up the courtroom and drew it in, exhaling the same energy with a hard breath that rang out in the small space.
The light got just a little bit brighter. The cuffs clicked just a little bit louder as he cleared the dark energy in the room.
Time passed…without a watch, he didn’t know how much. The clock moved forward, and still he struggled. Which tumbler, which pin, which way to apply the pressure…
::snap!::
He froze for a moment, unsure if he was imagining it or not, but there was less pressure now and more pain as a little more blood ran to his injured finger, making him wince even as he smiled.
He shook his hand, and the shackle fell free.
A sharp, surprised laugh escaped him as his heart swelled, as one breath in and out were all he allowed himself in celebration before he fished his pick out of the handcuff.
He could do this, he knew he could do this…
…until he realized that in freeing one hand, he’d bent the pick. Badly.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, got to his feet, and moved to the door. Finding a rough patch on the coarse metal surface, he began to file away at the length of wire to get it honed to a fine point again.
One cuff, his boot, plus the door remained…and not a lot of time left.
Setting his jaw, he filed the pick and pressed on.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,000
Life is under no obligation to give you what you expect.
====================
“OW!!! Shit!!!”
Cursing, he brought his throbbing middle finger to his mouth, but even the moist heat and pressure weren’t easing the pain. Lowering his hand, he cursed long and hard, this time in silence, when he saw the crack in his nail running into the quick and the well of red already appearing in the nail bed.
Forcing himself to block out the pain, Tommy gathered his focus and planted the bracelet against the wall again, throwing his body into the force of smashing it as hard as he could. The antique handcuffs, using a single-action spring to lock, were identical to the pair that already lay on the floor of the cell. The second pair was newer and had far less play, making it harder to slam them with enough pressure to pop the cuff, and far too easy to smash a finger in something.
It took him three more tries before he finally sprang the first bracelet, then twice more to get the second one off. Squatting, he picked up the key he’d spat out earlier and with some help from his lips and teeth, managed to open one shackle and then the other.
That left him with two pairs of cuffs, the boot, and the door…and not a lot of time left.
You were an idiot to do it this way. he chided himself, feeling the first creeping touch of self doubt as he stood and lumbered across the cell. Against the far wall, he could see them glittering like an old friend, wedged in the corner where one wall met another. In the low light, it was hard to see the outline of the length of plastic tubing that waited for him, much less the slim silver wire that was nested inside of it…
“As you can see, it’s not real big, but it served its purpose back in the day.”
Tommy nodded, stepping into the confines of the darkened cell he’d be occupying for his escape the next day, trying not to let the history and heaviness of the small space frighten him. He was alone for his tour of the jail, but in the RV, Zee and May were waiting for him. Their presence helped stave off any small hold the Darkness might try to get on him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, swallowing hard as he palmed the small bundle of steel and plastic in one hand, moving forward to press his hand to the far wall, as if testing its strength. “It’s definitely solid…”
When he moved his hand away, it sat firm in the juncture between walls, waiting for him.
Moving out of the cell as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion, Tommy turned to Louis, the curator, and smiled. “What about the rest of these cells? Could I see the one next door?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Karras…right over here…”
Crouched on the floor, Tommy focused on getting the wire into the cuff and began listening for the sounds he needed…the shift of tumblers, the click of finding the right bend in the right location. It was a struggle to keep his power at bay, but if he kept his mind on what he knew, on how the cuffs worked instead of how they opened, the pull of energy that preceded miracles subsided and left his mind to do the work for him.
The cuffs were similar to their future plastic cousins, a pair of notched steel ties secured with a lock at each wrist. Even now, they bit into his skin hard and made him regret his choice of keys to smuggle into his cell. The second pair above them was of no concern: having been secured high up on his forearms, the bracelets would slide off easily once he finished with this pair that lay between himself and freedom.
You need power to do this. You can’t get out on your own. You made a mistake, and now you will be humiliated.
“Know what else I can do? Find the human death that’s waiting for me, end this before it even begins.” He snarled out loud to an empty cell without looking up from the lock an inch from his face. He could still hear the tumblers, he could still see the shift of the pick as he tested the weight up and down, left and right. Breathing in, he focused on the energy outside the jailhouse, filling up the courtroom and drew it in, exhaling the same energy with a hard breath that rang out in the small space.
The light got just a little bit brighter. The cuffs clicked just a little bit louder as he cleared the dark energy in the room.
Time passed…without a watch, he didn’t know how much. The clock moved forward, and still he struggled. Which tumbler, which pin, which way to apply the pressure…
::snap!::
He froze for a moment, unsure if he was imagining it or not, but there was less pressure now and more pain as a little more blood ran to his injured finger, making him wince even as he smiled.
He shook his hand, and the shackle fell free.
A sharp, surprised laugh escaped him as his heart swelled, as one breath in and out were all he allowed himself in celebration before he fished his pick out of the handcuff.
He could do this, he knew he could do this…
…until he realized that in freeing one hand, he’d bent the pick. Badly.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, got to his feet, and moved to the door. Finding a rough patch on the coarse metal surface, he began to file away at the length of wire to get it honed to a fine point again.
One cuff, his boot, plus the door remained…and not a lot of time left.
Setting his jaw, he filed the pick and pressed on.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,000
