Shade, Spirit & Solace

[sl4irl.livejournal.com]

The tapping of that brutal namecheck, fingers across a leather sofa: George, Lorica, Neve.

Darklings are death-aligned beings, that he knew well. His own attentions had been more focused upon sending people from one coil to another, rather than focusing on what happened on the other side. He had considered branching out, now that knew (too late), but what good would be done?

He could rough up a specter, attempt to extract vengeance by tearing through some purposefully summoned phantasm...But where would be the worth in such an act? He might as well stitch a doll, then tear it to pieces, for all the justice that would mete.

Better just to mourn the departed, than to try and tear back the responsible. But with those words echoing through his consciousness, that was more of a struggle than ever...

"Yeah. He did it." The email bounced around his mind, the phrase seeming to loop itself. "Yeah. He did it." Yeah. He did it.

A sentence's worth of knowledge could leave you stumbling. No surprise there. No use knowing that and not being able to see it coming, either.