(no subject)
Decidedly set up house at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Seems like a strange place to stay but, having lived in an abbey for seven months at one point, I find myself at ease here. At any rate I am fine with settling anywhere. I would like to extend my gratitude to James Sunderland and, of course, to the little guy, Stitch for helping me out when I first got here.
Anyway, after taking the time to consider my current standing and doing a little poking around over the network, I’ve construed that the Manhattan, New York I woke up in may not even be the same Manhattan, New York from, as most people say, my “world” (I’ve been hearing that word a lot, which is most fascinating). Where I’m from, there was never any attack on Manhattan following the fall of the World Trade Center, let alone any of the supernatural kind.
In this case, I hope Little Ozzie, the Chief, and everyone are okay, safe in the world in which New York remains in tact. It may not be entirely inconceivable to believe that there’s not even a Pico Mundo in this reality, and if there is, it may not be the same place where I grew up.
How different is the world beyond this island compared to the one I know?
Assuming there is a world beyond the island.
I’m going to lose sleep over this, but I should really get some rest.
[ PRIVATE / COMPLETELY UNHACKABLE ]
Maybe that is why they appear so vastly different here...as black specters rather than the warm, opaque human shapes. It seems almost as if dying in this world isn’t the same as dying in my world. Will I even see Stormy if I die here? Could she save me from becoming like them if I do?
Yet there is her, which leads to more questions. I am led to believe that she is not of this world but maybe from Sunderland’s (and mine, assuming we share the same), since she seems to be somehow attached to him. I’ve been seeing her around the Cathedral. She is sick and pale and indifferent to me. There are others around here unlike those outside, too. The dead all have stories to convey, one way or another.
I wonder what hers is.
Anyway, after taking the time to consider my current standing and doing a little poking around over the network, I’ve construed that the Manhattan, New York I woke up in may not even be the same Manhattan, New York from, as most people say, my “world” (I’ve been hearing that word a lot, which is most fascinating). Where I’m from, there was never any attack on Manhattan following the fall of the World Trade Center, let alone any of the supernatural kind.
In this case, I hope Little Ozzie, the Chief, and everyone are okay, safe in the world in which New York remains in tact. It may not be entirely inconceivable to believe that there’s not even a Pico Mundo in this reality, and if there is, it may not be the same place where I grew up.
How different is the world beyond this island compared to the one I know?
Assuming there is a world beyond the island.
I’m going to lose sleep over this, but I should really get some rest.
[ PRIVATE / COMPLETELY UNHACKABLE ]
Maybe that is why they appear so vastly different here...as black specters rather than the warm, opaque human shapes. It seems almost as if dying in this world isn’t the same as dying in my world. Will I even see Stormy if I die here? Could she save me from becoming like them if I do?
Yet there is her, which leads to more questions. I am led to believe that she is not of this world but maybe from Sunderland’s (and mine, assuming we share the same), since she seems to be somehow attached to him. I’ve been seeing her around the Cathedral. She is sick and pale and indifferent to me. There are others around here unlike those outside, too. The dead all have stories to convey, one way or another.
I wonder what hers is.