Dr. Simon O'Neill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
protagonized) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-06-18 09:55 am
protagonized) wrote in undergrounds2016-06-18 09:55 am
Entry tags:
A Fallen Guardian - Part One (June)
With the perfect life
Westminster, 18 June (1:19 am) - Open to first responder only
Simon had been out with friends. For real, this time, celebrating the end of uni and the beginning of the rest of their lives. They'd gotten heartily drunk at a favorite pub, then gone to a club and done some more drinking. The only reason he hadn't stayed out all night was because he had to be at the Night Council early-ish the next morning, even though it was a Saturday. Unlike the rest of his friends, he already had a career--one that had very little to do with the degree he'd just spent the last three years of his life working towards.
And that was, ultimately, what killed him.
Later, he'll dissect every second of his death, or at least the ones he remembers, wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering how he could be so stupid as to be drunk and alone when he'd known for some time that the vampires were out hunting werewolves and shapeshifters to please their new leader, not to mention the fact that being a Guardian already put a target on his back in some parts of the supernatural community. At least it had been quick. Just a halfhearted fight (and he'd gotten some good hits in, he thought), a searing pain in his neck, and the warmth of his life blood seeping into the pavement.
And that's how he'll be found some moments later, when the vampire (newly turned and a bit of an idiot) hears footsteps coming towards them and spooks, leaving his dying victim crumpled against a wall.
Simon hasn't got long.
Where you never die
Westminster, 23 June - Open
There'd been a vigil two days after the murder, which was quite nice. Flowers and candles and people who'd never known him but thought he looked like a nice young man (plus his parents were quite famous, weren't they?) all standing next to the police tape that hadn't come down yet, crying about a boy with such a bright future ahead of him. Only the sensitive would have been able to tell that the boy hadn't quite left. A cold spot on the pavement, a certain prickling on the back of the neck, were certain indicators that a ghost lurked nearby.
Because that's what Simon figures he is now: a ghost. It's actually not as bad as he'd thought it would be. The first few hours after his death had been particularly traumatic, of course, watching his body be photographed by police and then carted away in an ambulance and wondering what would happen to his family and friends without him around anymore, but now he's gotten a little more focused. He's seen his Door. He knows that there's still something he needs to do to get to it and whatever lies beyond, and he's pretty sure that something is finding whoever it was that did this to him and making them pay.
Now if only he can figure out how to tell someone all this, he'll be well on his way to accomplishing his goal.
You just press rewind
Westminster, 30 June - Closed to Natasha
All right. He's made contact. Sort of. Now he just needs to make the right sort of contact. He has friends; they're going to have to help him sort this all out. When one of them approaches his little patch of pavement, he concentrates as hard as he can until--there.
A pale, shadowy figure materializes out of the air.
"Pleasant evening, huh?" Simon's ghost grins.
Westminster, 18 June (1:19 am) - Open to first responder only
Simon had been out with friends. For real, this time, celebrating the end of uni and the beginning of the rest of their lives. They'd gotten heartily drunk at a favorite pub, then gone to a club and done some more drinking. The only reason he hadn't stayed out all night was because he had to be at the Night Council early-ish the next morning, even though it was a Saturday. Unlike the rest of his friends, he already had a career--one that had very little to do with the degree he'd just spent the last three years of his life working towards.
And that was, ultimately, what killed him.
Later, he'll dissect every second of his death, or at least the ones he remembers, wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering how he could be so stupid as to be drunk and alone when he'd known for some time that the vampires were out hunting werewolves and shapeshifters to please their new leader, not to mention the fact that being a Guardian already put a target on his back in some parts of the supernatural community. At least it had been quick. Just a halfhearted fight (and he'd gotten some good hits in, he thought), a searing pain in his neck, and the warmth of his life blood seeping into the pavement.
And that's how he'll be found some moments later, when the vampire (newly turned and a bit of an idiot) hears footsteps coming towards them and spooks, leaving his dying victim crumpled against a wall.
Simon hasn't got long.
Where you never die
Westminster, 23 June - Open
There'd been a vigil two days after the murder, which was quite nice. Flowers and candles and people who'd never known him but thought he looked like a nice young man (plus his parents were quite famous, weren't they?) all standing next to the police tape that hadn't come down yet, crying about a boy with such a bright future ahead of him. Only the sensitive would have been able to tell that the boy hadn't quite left. A cold spot on the pavement, a certain prickling on the back of the neck, were certain indicators that a ghost lurked nearby.
Because that's what Simon figures he is now: a ghost. It's actually not as bad as he'd thought it would be. The first few hours after his death had been particularly traumatic, of course, watching his body be photographed by police and then carted away in an ambulance and wondering what would happen to his family and friends without him around anymore, but now he's gotten a little more focused. He's seen his Door. He knows that there's still something he needs to do to get to it and whatever lies beyond, and he's pretty sure that something is finding whoever it was that did this to him and making them pay.
Now if only he can figure out how to tell someone all this, he'll be well on his way to accomplishing his goal.
You just press rewind
Westminster, 30 June - Closed to Natasha
All right. He's made contact. Sort of. Now he just needs to make the right sort of contact. He has friends; they're going to have to help him sort this all out. When one of them approaches his little patch of pavement, he concentrates as hard as he can until--there.
A pale, shadowy figure materializes out of the air.
"Pleasant evening, huh?" Simon's ghost grins.
no subject
He can't even tip a bin or blow paper along the pavement. He'd love to be able to influence his environment even a little, but that seems entirely beyond him. He's not exactly going to be Poltergeist of the Year.
"I'm a shitty ghost and I was a shitty Guardian."
no subject
She'd say something else, but his last statement distracts her from pursuing the first line of conversation further. "You were a Guardian?"
no subject
"I got the job around New Year's. I'll be fucked if I know why I got nominated for it. I wasn't very good at the job."
There it is again: the past tense.
no subject
"Someone must have thought you'd be a good fit for it."