(no subject)
I can't trail anyone like I used to, but I've been here four days and I haven't seen anything that looks suspicious - you know, in a familiar way. I don't have an alien slug wrapped around my brain yet, and nobody's tried to get me to go down any suspicious subterranean staircases with them. Even if there were yeerks here, the population's so small that I don't think they'd need to maintain secrecy if they were. And if I'm right and there's no portable Kandrona devices in the city, even if a Controller did show up, the yeerk would just die. I think this world's still untouched.
I still can't let my guard down. I mean, literally - I can't. It would be way too easy to believe that they really are gone. I know how badly I want to believe it's safe. Well, safe apart from the monsters I can see - there are a lot of those. Wanting something as badly as I want to be able to feel safe - about as safe as I can feel in an apocalyptic city of death and despair - it clouds judgement.
The part of me that's stronger than the part of me that want things knows that. I can't morph. They could drag me right down to a pool now, and I wouldn't stand a chance. I hate how much that scares me.
So I don't feel safe yet. I don't know if I ever will. I don't think I ever should.
So, it looks like I'm going to be staying here for a while. I guess I should introduce myself a bit better than last time.
My name is Rachel, and I'm dead. I didn't think much about what I expected from an afterlife when I was alive, but it wasn't this.
I hear there’s a police force in the city, and I'm thinking I want to join it. About the only other thing I'd probably be good for here would be as a style consultant, and . . . yeah. That's not exactly useful.
I never really thought I’d still have to think about career paths after dying. That’s kind of funny. In a totally morbid and kind of depressing way.
Anyway, what I’m saying is that I’ll do whatever whoever’s in charge here thinks I need to do to make myself useful to the police force. I don't really have any formal kind of training, but I can handle myself pretty well. I’m a fast learner, and pretty athletic, and hey, it's not like I've got anything to lose.
So, who do I talk to around here to get something to do? I really don't want to sit around and feel useless when it's this depressing out.
I still can't let my guard down. I mean, literally - I can't. It would be way too easy to believe that they really are gone. I know how badly I want to believe it's safe. Well, safe apart from the monsters I can see - there are a lot of those. Wanting something as badly as I want to be able to feel safe - about as safe as I can feel in an apocalyptic city of death and despair - it clouds judgement.
The part of me that's stronger than the part of me that want things knows that. I can't morph. They could drag me right down to a pool now, and I wouldn't stand a chance. I hate how much that scares me.
So I don't feel safe yet. I don't know if I ever will. I don't think I ever should.
So, it looks like I'm going to be staying here for a while. I guess I should introduce myself a bit better than last time.
My name is Rachel, and I'm dead. I didn't think much about what I expected from an afterlife when I was alive, but it wasn't this.
I hear there’s a police force in the city, and I'm thinking I want to join it. About the only other thing I'd probably be good for here would be as a style consultant, and . . . yeah. That's not exactly useful.
I never really thought I’d still have to think about career paths after dying. That’s kind of funny. In a totally morbid and kind of depressing way.
Anyway, what I’m saying is that I’ll do whatever whoever’s in charge here thinks I need to do to make myself useful to the police force. I don't really have any formal kind of training, but I can handle myself pretty well. I’m a fast learner, and pretty athletic, and hey, it's not like I've got anything to lose.
So, who do I talk to around here to get something to do? I really don't want to sit around and feel useless when it's this depressing out.