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multiversallogs2011-08-23 08:26 pm
paintfromlife.livejournal.com) wrote in multiversallogs2011-08-23 08:26 pm
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Who: Pickman and Herbert West. Then Njoki too, once they get back her and Pick's place.
What: Pickman is meeting up with his old pal Herbie, and having the 'guess what I've been up to since college?' conversation.
Where: Valhalla Inn, then out and about, Mafaton-ward.
When: Today, mid-afternoon.
Warnings: Descriptions of Pickman's physical state. Probably, discussion of grave-robbing, cannibalism, and attempts to resurrect the dead.
He was nervous.
Funny, wasn't it? He'd chosen this life. This transformation. Leapt headlong into the abyss, and never regretted it for a minute. But now there was someone in Baedal who had known him only as a human being (albeit a strange one) and he was nervous about having the conversation with him, about what he was, what he'd done to himself and what he did. Herbert was an old friend -- not the closest, not even in his strange little 'inner circle,' but a friend nonetheless, someone he'd had long conversations with and who'd helped him out with more than one science class.
He had a while to think about it on his way to the Valhalla, trying to work out how to phrase his explanation, how to defend his choices. Trying to come to grips with the idea that this could be the last time he'd talk with Herbert. Because as soon as he stepped into the Inn on his little goat feet, and as soon as the other man laid eyes on him, it would be glaringly obvious he wasn't entirely human anymore.
By the time he was at the door, though, he was determined. He knew what to do, what to say. And he didn't hesitate as he stepped inside, scanning the room for a man he recognised from a lifetime ago.
What: Pickman is meeting up with his old pal Herbie, and having the 'guess what I've been up to since college?' conversation.
Where: Valhalla Inn, then out and about, Mafaton-ward.
When: Today, mid-afternoon.
Warnings: Descriptions of Pickman's physical state. Probably, discussion of grave-robbing, cannibalism, and attempts to resurrect the dead.
He was nervous.
Funny, wasn't it? He'd chosen this life. This transformation. Leapt headlong into the abyss, and never regretted it for a minute. But now there was someone in Baedal who had known him only as a human being (albeit a strange one) and he was nervous about having the conversation with him, about what he was, what he'd done to himself and what he did. Herbert was an old friend -- not the closest, not even in his strange little 'inner circle,' but a friend nonetheless, someone he'd had long conversations with and who'd helped him out with more than one science class.
He had a while to think about it on his way to the Valhalla, trying to work out how to phrase his explanation, how to defend his choices. Trying to come to grips with the idea that this could be the last time he'd talk with Herbert. Because as soon as he stepped into the Inn on his little goat feet, and as soon as the other man laid eyes on him, it would be glaringly obvious he wasn't entirely human anymore.
By the time he was at the door, though, he was determined. He knew what to do, what to say. And he didn't hesitate as he stepped inside, scanning the room for a man he recognised from a lifetime ago.