Tim "Roderick" Nelson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
characterdefect) wrote2014-05-27 06:57 pm
characterdefect) wrote2014-05-27 06:57 pm
06 ◈ spam
[Weirdest. Drugs. Ever.]
[. . . is what Tim would say if he was the kind of guy who did drugs ever. But Tim has never even smoked weed. He is straight-edge, well-groomed, clean-cut, and an exemplary student, and if you asked him how he got here, he'd have a lot of theories but nothing too concrete.]
[He'd be polite about it, though. He hasn't quite learned to be caustic and cruel, or at least, he doesn't think he has. He doesn't remember meeting Joe Carroll, either, or killing his first young woman, or smiling while he did it.]
[Later, he'll be angry, because this was not the spirit of the wish he made. For now, he explores tentatively and then more boldly, up and down the ship, trying to keep out of people's way - until he reaches the pub, whereupon Tim Nelson, whose body feels too large for him, who is twenty and eternally sober, begins inspecting the beer selection.]
[Weirdest campus ever, that's for sure. He has the nagging feeling that there's work he ought to be doing.]
[. . . is what Tim would say if he was the kind of guy who did drugs ever. But Tim has never even smoked weed. He is straight-edge, well-groomed, clean-cut, and an exemplary student, and if you asked him how he got here, he'd have a lot of theories but nothing too concrete.]
[He'd be polite about it, though. He hasn't quite learned to be caustic and cruel, or at least, he doesn't think he has. He doesn't remember meeting Joe Carroll, either, or killing his first young woman, or smiling while he did it.]
[Later, he'll be angry, because this was not the spirit of the wish he made. For now, he explores tentatively and then more boldly, up and down the ship, trying to keep out of people's way - until he reaches the pub, whereupon Tim Nelson, whose body feels too large for him, who is twenty and eternally sober, begins inspecting the beer selection.]
[Weirdest campus ever, that's for sure. He has the nagging feeling that there's work he ought to be doing.]
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Where do you hide when there's a world class assassin after you because you lied to his face and then taught the girl you just met, jesus, how to dupe him by telling her the secret of how he kills?
The answer, apparently, is anywhere he possibly can. So eventually in his explorations, Tim will be walking down a hallway just in time to see Slevin oh so stealthily easing out of an empty room, freezing when he spots Tim, and then guiltily glancing back at the door to gauge if he can make it back in without being seen.
The answer is no. He can't.]
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[Eventually:]
You, uh.
You going somewhere in particular?
[aka what the frickle frack.]
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What'll it be, mate?
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Uh. House beer?
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Come around here often?
[This would be a serious and not alarming at all question, if he could get through the asking without sniggering like an idiot]
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You okay, man?
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Only I've a confession to make.
I am not the bartender.
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[He stares at his drink. He stares at Mason. Drink. Mason. Drink.]
Then what the hell are you doing behind the bar?
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[Mason has yet to realize they're all free]
Pretending, mostly.
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And for the beer, of course.
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[A little weird as hell, actually.]
Are . . . are you from Winslow University, too?
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