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[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[James stumbles onto the plane, carrying a plastic grocery bag full of clothes and, of all things, the great knife. He's back in his normal clothes, and they're pretty much caked with gore. James doesn't look too great either. He's spent the last couple of days running around Silent Hill, and he doesn't exactly spend a lot of time eating or sleeping there.

He doesn't say anything to anyone, just sinks down to the ground to catch his breath.]

Comments

[demnify.livejournal.com]

[the Master approaches, because James smells delightfully gory, though the gore does kind of smell like not-normal gore]

Let me guess, running a marathon through a zombie infested city? Monster infested city?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[James staggers to his feet as soon as he realizes he's being talked to, more than a little unsteady.]

It's a town, not a city.

[He pauses for a moment, then steps a little closer to the Master. Another pause. Another step.]

It's... Mister Seta, right?

[demnify.livejournal.com]

[the Master shrugs]

Town, then.

[then he nods]

Correct.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[This is James. Invading your personal space.]

You... smell like Mary.

[demnify.livejournal.com]

[...]

...Damn, still hasn't worn off. I assure you, Mr. Sunderland, I do not smell like your wife.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[Sorry Master. Have a gory man getting way too close.]

No, you do. I'm sure of it. You smell like Mary.

[James grabs onto the Master's arm, starting to sound more than a little off-kilter]

Were... were you with her? Did you see my wife?!

Where is she?!

[demnify.livejournal.com]

[he growls and jerks his arm back]

I haven't seen your wife. In fact, as you just arrived, our realities aren't even close to being merged, thus, I cannot, under any circumstances, see your wife.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[James just stands there like a useless lump.]

But... that scent... She wore it when she was well...

[demnify.livejournal.com]

[he crosses his arms]

Coincidence.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

But, Mary...

[Sry Master, you made brick-chan sadface ):]

I-

I'm sorry.

[aimania.livejournal.com]

[Flonne remembers you!]

Ah! James-san! Are you all right?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

Ah..?

[James looks down at himself, slightly sheepishly.]

I'm fine. None of it is mine.

[aimania.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank goodness. Was it a zombie?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

...Something like that.

[aimania.livejournal.com]

Those sorts of things are messy... Are you going to be all right?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

I'll be fine. I'm... sort of used to this.

[aimania.livejournal.com]

You must live in a place that is very dangerous.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

I don't live there, but it is a very dangerous place.

[aimania.livejournal.com]

Maybe you can go home soon? Did you find your wife...?

[kotaekiitenai.livejournal.com]

AH! [He gives James an incredibly weird look, because gore-covered clothes aren't the sort of thing you see every day.]

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[James returns the weird look. Because seriously. Big purple thing.]

W-what?

[kotaekiitenai.livejournal.com]

You're the niichan from before~ [Whoops, looks like he's completely forgotten/decided to ignore that whole 'don't call me niichan' conversation.]

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

My name is James.

[kotaekiitenai.livejournal.com]

[>___>] James-niichan?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[...sigh]

...Close enough.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Have a demon, James. He's staring at your big knife you.]

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[Have a James, Crowley. Staring back at you.]

...Hello?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Hi.

Er...had a bit of a problem, did we?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

Several.

Oh, um-

[pause for James pulling out Mary's photo and holding it up]

Have you seen this woman?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[a pause]

You're chasing after a woman with the world's largest butcher knife?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

That's not my knife. I just brought it here to keep it away from... whatever the hell the thing that was carrying it is.

Besides, it's too heavy for me to use properly...

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

[O.O MOMMY ALERT. She vanishes and reappears with a tray of tea and sandwiches and more clothes from the supply closet.] Signore James? Are you all right?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

Ah..? Henrietta?

[James glances around for a moment, then locates the grocery bag. He picks it up and holds it out to her.]

I cleaned those clothes you lent me. I couldn't get all the stains out... but I got most of it, I think.

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

That's all right, you can keep them. I got some more for you, too. I saved them under my bed. One of the cleaning ladies was doing laundry and I took them. [Sets the tray down and offers the clothes.] Are you hungry? I have some food.

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

...Thank you.

[Accepts the clothes, then clears his throat awkwardly]

I guess, but- ...I don't want to be a bother.

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

It's not a bother. It's already here, right?

[isolatedguilt.livejournal.com]

[James scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. He feels more than a little awkward accepting aid from a little kid.]

I guess you're right...

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

[She's a miniature mommy] Do you need anything else?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

How... unclean. And there isn't any aesthetic to it.