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The woods were just as he remembered them. Dark and foreboding, the occasional dog running out at them. Sometimes he would see something off in the distance, another one of those nurse creatures, sometimes something else- larger. He'd run after them if they were sufficiently close, always hitting them with his flashlight. He'd bludgeon them immediately, making sure they didn't have time to move around him and get to Eileen. Making the first move was the best option- plus, he was finding he didn't mind it. He hated when dogs caught him unaware, but he managed to jump into them, only catching a few bites and scratches so far.

It had been a very long walk towards Lynn's house- honestly, though, not as long as it should have been. It would make the map hard to follow exactly, but really, that was the least of their worries. He still didn't feel quite right. In fact, Henry's mind kept fuzzing over, and it was hard to concentrate. He'd assume it was the oppressive air, pervasive even here in the great 'outdoors'. But no, there was something else. Everything seemed tilted, one way too far or another. Still, other worries.

He checks the map, near useless as it is now, and finds they're on the right street. It wouldn't be far now. As soon as he folds up the map to tell Eileen this, he sees another figure behind her, about twenty feet. He's out of breath, but he runs quickly, charging it so it barely has time to turn before he's clocked it upside the head. He stomps on it heavily, then leans with his hands on his knees, panting. "There's a lot of these damn things, aren't there?" he asks Eileen, out of breath.
By the time Henry reached the merry-go-round, rusted to a stop and tilted slightly off it's axis, he decided it was the most welcome thing he'd seen in hours. Carefully, he plopped himself down onto it, long limbs splayed everywhere. He looked around the rest of the small playground, relaxing very slightly at the small bit of quiet he seemed to have been granted. He'd been running since he got here, he had to stop before something stopped him- he really wished he didn't know this from experience. Words like 'routine' and 'long haul' floated through his tired brain.

He thought about Eileen, and what she must be going through right now. If he was lucky, she got out immediately. She had tumbled on a small, insignificant portion of this horribleness, and it had taken a half hour or so to get out, but now she was back at home and hoping for his safety. He knew that wasn't how it happened, but he had to tell himself otherwise. Still, he tried once again to remember what she had with her. Did she have those high heels on? She definitely had her pistol, but how many rounds? Were they out by now?

He blocked out images of Eileen screaming for him as those things with the long split mouths bludgeoned her, blocked out the image of her tearful face resting on her knees, murmuring that he should be far from here. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. He checked to make sure he still had some ammo left as he passed the jungle gym. The swings squealed horribly, as if his passing caused some sort of disturbance in the air. As he looked down the dark of the continuing tunnel, he really wished he hadn't smashed the bulb on the flashlight with the last group of creatures. This was going to be so much harder in the dark.

As if hearing his thoughts, a light flickered behind him, followed by the sound of static. He didn't want to turn around, but he felt he had no choice. There was the thready contents of a voice hidden in the sound- no way he could just ignore that. There was a television behind him, sitting on that same merry-go-round, maybe even where he had sat. Henry walked back to stare at it.

Trying to listen for anything else approaching was proving impossible- the static was loud and getting louder. Every once in awhile, he heard some small snippets of a female voice. He listened harder, but there was no picking it out- eventually, however, it did clear up to the point that he could tell enough. It wasn't Eileen. Words became clearer. "...Ashfield and the woods of- szzzt- ....bodies of men and women were discovered. The police reported that all the murders appeared to be the work of the same perpertrator." Henry frowned and looked down at the snowy screen, making out the image of a woman in it. She held papers, apparently giving her this 'new' information. "Four of the victims were found dead at the scene, and the fifth victim, a Miss Eileen Galvin, was transported to---"

It promptly cut back to static. Henry, frowning, brought a hand to it's side, jolting it lightly. The static didn't change. Was that before, or-? His thoughts cut out as that same news scene cut back in. It was for News 7 again- he could see the logo in the back- but the announcer was now a man. "Earlier today, the bodies of two former residents were found in the South Ashfield Heights apartment building."

"What...?" he said, narrowing his eyes at the aerial image of South Ashfield Heights as a helicopter panned over it.

The newscaster talked over the image. "Their deaths happened on the third anniversary of their kidnapping from the same apartments. They reappeared months after the kidnappings and had declined to discuss their situation with News 7." The static was gaining again, louder and louder until Henry could barely make out what the man was saying. He couldn't let this happen. "Police are investigating their deaths, but it is believed to be a double suicide at this time-" The static was tearing through Henry's skull at this point. He wondered how a sound could make it hard to breathe, but then he couldn't focus on anything but the noise. He grabbed at his head and winced, leaning backwards. "In other news, it has been -ffzzt- since a patient fr- ffsszzzzt- with her doctor, Troy Abernathy. The two were belie-"

The burst of static noise that followed was too much for him, even though he'd been trying hard to hold on. Henry groaned and toppled backwards, head in his hands.
He didn't shoot them.

He should have. They moved quickly and he didn't really have the time to club them all, but his gun- he left it in its holster, inexplicably. It was something he'd always have a hard time with. Shooting the dogs was easy easy enough, but the nurses seemed too much like people. So even though they were trying to rip him to shreds, he didn't shoot them. Instead he'd club them over the head with his flashlight, swiped their legs out from under them, stomped their ribs in. Maybe that wasn't any better.

There had been so many damp, moldering passages he'd forced himself through. Every hallway seemed to have one or two of these creatures. Short blonde hair framed their contorted faces, too-large mouths cutting sideways and diagonally, all the ways they shouldn't go. He'd run when he could, remembering the rule he'd given himself the last time he was 'here'. But there were a few times when they caught up with him, and then he was cornered, and he had to fight.

The last altercation included a knife in his shoulder blades from a creature he'd lost the position of. He'd twirled, catching her off-guard, and when she fell to the ground he stomped on her ribs once and ran faster than he ever had in his life.

He was still fairly certain he was underground, but now he was jogging briskly through a green field. There were people laying on the ground, all lined up in a row with their arms crossed. Henry went on the defensive immediately, but as they continued to lay still he noticed the wounds on all of them. Across the throat, in the eyes, over the wrists. Were they self-inflicted?

He knelt down upon reaching them. Boys in ripped t-shirts, wearing beaded necklaces and worn converse. Girls with long hair clips and short skirts, bruises across the cheeks and smeared overdone makeup. Seven people, not one of them over the age of 17. They were so very young- why were they here? He looked around, trying to find a clue. He eventually gave up, got up to leave when he noticed it. Under the teens, and around them, there were white flowers interspersed with the grass. White claudia...

An unearthly howl from thirty yards back caused Henry to look back. The nurses he'd been running from, and forgotten all about, were still on their way. He pushed himself up onto his feet and ran the opposite direction, hoping to find some way out, some way to Eileen. When he saw the blood trails, he figured that's likely as good an indicator as anything. The dark passages gave way to a series of long hallways, and finally a door.

As he shut it behind him, he found himself in yet another dingy doctor's office. He let out a long breath and stopped moving, first leaning against the back of the door, then jumping up as the pain in his back made him remember the knife-wound in his shoulder. He shook the cobwebs from his mind, as best he could, and walked to the opposite door.

He couldn't rest, he needed to get to Eileen. Wherever she was.
He shoots at the wall again, knowing he's wasting bullets- but he can't help it. He heard a low growl and people don't make that noise. He supposes that as long as he doesn't hear that high, chittering laugh (or even worse, a low, deep chuckle) he's doing all right.

He doesn't speak, although he's sometimes tempted to. There's no point. These things won't listen, and he's finally learned his lesson there. Damn it, why won't it just come out from behind where it's hiding? He has to go that way! He's made it through a labyrinth of alleyways, familiar but put together all sorts of different types of backstreets.  They started to blur together until they became a uniform grey.  And now he can see the lake in the distance, and he needs to get there. Who know what side it will be on, whether he'll be close to the correct cemetary (god, there are so many), but it's that little bit farther.

The thing growls once more, but doesn't come out. Henry leans back against the wall and sighs heavily, letting it sink in that he's going to have to go past it anyway. It's not going to be a ghost or anything like that. Putting the gun away, he holds the Maglite like a baton and inches forward, further and further. He can hear it breathing.

When he turns the corner, there's nothing there. He's starting to wonder if maybe it's completely deserted as he continues walking towards the lake.

He stares at the water as he walks, that hateful water that washes away bits of himself every time he's near it. He has to get there- Eileen will be close, and he has to find her. He can't last without her.

He hadn't noticed that the road ended abruptly, not until he puts his foot out and nothing catches it. He tips forward, and it's almost comical as he sees the ground come up to meet him, then fly upwards past him. He hears the growl again.

And then everything's dark.
Too long. Far too long. Henry checked his watch, and tried to remember where the hand was when Eileen had just stared at him and disappeared to Lakeside Cemetery. He thought it was five minutes. He'd give it a couple more, and when Eileen got back, he might actually get upset. She needed to be there, but she didn't need to take so long, did she?

Generally, Henry didn't have a hard time waiting for things. He could just zone out and let the time slide by- although, to be honest, he was trying to be better about that. This time there was no question, though. He felt every second pass by painfully, imagined he could hear the tick in his watch.

Ten minutes from that moment passed, and when he knew it was too late, he finally got out his phone. He cursed as he pressed the information into it, pressed the button. She had told him he was under no circumstances to come there, but he couldn't listen to her, not now. He won't look at the lake. He won't do anything but look for her. He repeated that in his head and waited for the scenery to change.

Nothing happened, and he let a broken sob escape from his lips before composing himself. No, this can't happen again, this can't, and if he has to, he'll just walk to Silent Hill.

He didn't make it to the parking lot- or rather, he did, but it was the wrong one. His car was still in it, but there was something off. It took him half a minute before he realized the exit was gone, a small building in place of the street.

He took a moment to pull the Maglite and extra ammo from his car, not expecting that either would do much good. As he located the little alley that was suddenly the only way he can walk, he was unsurprised to find blood splattered on the wall.
He still wasn't happy with this idea, and he never would be. But he had to accept it, and that he was something he was good at. Eileen had let him pick the spot, and he figured that New York was a neutral enough place.

What were they doing? They were going to talk to Dr. Abernathy, the monster who had sided with Walter. But he'd done a few helpful things, too, so that was why Henry hadn't dropped the idea outright. For a couple that was trying to avoid contact with all things Silent Hill, they were really coming into contact with a lot of it.

It was because they really had no choice. There were people missing and even though they didn't have much of a chance of helping them, there was still a chance. They had to try.

So he sips at a hot chocolate while standing outside the designated cafe, watching the people go by. It's late and Henry wonders if Troy is going to show up at all. He leans against the wall and looks to Eileen. "I don't know if this is going to work," he says quietly, unsure as to whether he should be happy or sad about that.
Waking Dream - A collection of songs for Henry TownshendCollapse )


*Download Here*

Songs and LyricsCollapse )
He doesn't want to be here. With every fibre of his being, he wishes he were somewhere else. As he does his best to edge towards the doorway, he listens to his mother drone on with Eileen about some thing. It was clear that neither of them really understood what the other was talking about, but they were trying to make the attempt at polite conversation.

In his mother's hands was a photo album, and that was the reason they were here. Henry didn't think it was worth it, especially with the way his father kept glaring at him. Henry didn't talk either, unless Eileen asked him something specifically. Then he'd have to catch up with the conversation, mutter something awkward, and his father would glare some more, and his mother would look disappointed. They're just how he remembered them.

He turns his mind towards trying to figure out a way to remove him and Eileen from this situation, but he can't think of anything that would be acceptable. This is an interesting way to be trapped.

The conversation turns toward vacations, and his mother inevitably brings up Rosewater Park. Henry shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Eileen, we've got a big problem.
Hi, everyone. This is still Henry...guess I should be more specific, huh? This account used to be 'other_henry'. I finally got a name change. I know this isn't too exciting or anything, but it's my name. So that should work.

Work's been pretty good. I keep thinking that I'm going to run out of buildings to take pictures of, but...it's not happening so far. It's been really nice.

Someone went missing around here recently. It's probably nothing, but...we're still looking into it. I wasn't able to get anything that wasn't already in the news article we saw, but...well, we'll keep looking. Does anyone here happen to know someone named Lynn DeAngelis? It can't hurt to ask, right?
All right, so I'm giving this a try. If it gets too difficult to do with just Henry, I may move to incorporating my other characters as well...we'll see. ;-)

The Nexus 100Collapse )
Hey, Eileen?

I know we're planning on meeting with a couple of your friends tonight....but I don't think I'm going to make it. I don't really feel like going out tonight. Sorry....hope that's okay.
Hey, Eileen....is everything all right with you? Are you doing all right? I mean, you seemed to be doing great, I just...I don't know. Nothing weird's happened lately, has it?
Coincides with this post.

It's not so much a schedule...Collapse )
I haven't written for awhile, have I? I seem to have a hard time writing in this unless I need it for something. I never was too good with journals.

Things are going really well. I don't think I ever was in a job that I actually liked, that was more than passing time and getting paid for it. It's weird. A wonderful kind of weird. Thanks, Claire. Hope all your training is going well.

And I'm sure it's really obvious, but Eileen and I have been dating. That's really great, too. Hermes is going to help her sleep well tonight. I'm a little nervous about it, but it's really nice of him, and she could really use it.

It's like I have a whole different life now....I couldn't be happier about it. I'm still tired a lot of the time, but that's not a huge deal. And it's not anywhere as bad as it used to be. You know, I thought I'd need a vacation, but work is turning out to be that. Funny how this stuff works out sometimes.

Now if only we could be sure the Nexus would be safe...
He'd been really enjoying his job since he started. He loves New York and scouting out sites like this...it's so much better than what he was used to. This was an actual job. So when he's there, he's utterly focused on it. He manages to leave the time he told Eileen today- since she was expecting him, he was actually paying attention to the clock.

And as soon as he starts packing up, it hits him again. Not your business. He spends the next couple of minutes staring at his camera pieces, deep in thought. Then he packs up and heads out.

He calls Eileen as soon as he's reached his apartment again, letting her know he was back and ready.
Hey, Liz...could we talk? ...whenever you're feeling up to it, of course.
I don't think Ed believes me, about helping out with a cousin in Colorado. He said J told him the same sort of story....but he didn't push it, at least. I guess that's good.

Everything else is just getting back to normal...it's nice to be home.

PrivateCollapse )
It's a dream- and he knows it's a dream. The way you just do sometimes.

It's a dream and he's standing by the water's edge. This is where he belongs and he knows that, too. Out here by the water, you don't see the rusted metal, and there's only a little blood. The smell of decay is still invasive and cloying, but this is the only spot where its really quiet. Other than the apartment, it was Walter's favorite place. It's Henry's, too.

He likes it so much that he sees it both ways. The path is clear and sunny, for once not obscured by the constant fog. The path is also overgrown with dark black vines, which look vaguely like children's limbs in the darkness. The lake itself is exactly the same in both places- grey, unchanging quiet. A void. Henry can't help but stare at it as he walks.

His foot taps against something he doesn't quite expect- a bench. It faces the water, of course. The 'normal' lakeside falls away, and he's stuck in that horrible other world again. The wood is molded and rotting, but he sits on it anyway. It holds him...he knew somehow it always would.

And he should be resting, but he can't help thinking...thinking about how many times he's told Eileen not to give up hope already, how many times she's suffered so much she might have been better off dead. He thinks about how tired he is, how he doesn't know if he can do decent work for Claire, how he doesn't know if she'd feel too bad about it to tell him if he's not. He thinks about the simple fact that he doesn't know anything.

The lake takes it all into itself. Every thought melts in the air until he's run out of things to worry about. And then he can finally rest. He lays down on his side, feeling the slime pull off the wood and onto his face. He stares at the lake, and he even smiles a little. He'll finally have something like peace soon, he knows it.
I've got a job! A photography job.

Claire's having me scout out and document building on her homeworld. Eileen's going to be working on the business end of it.

I'm really looking forward to it. This is the sort of project I like. But I hope she isn't doing this just to help us out.
Out of everyone who went to the otherworld to help save Liz, Henry Townshend the only one who didn't seem to be affected at all. He didn't have any powers to drain, he didn't have any aggressive personality to bring out, he didn't have any change in himself at all. Somehow, he knows he's the only one. He can see it in their faces.

For reasons unknown, this bothers him a great deal. It's stupid, and he knows it's stupid, and he hates himself for it, but...even Walter's world overlooked him this time. The only thing unique about him, horrible as it was, and all these people had to deal with that and worse. And they dealt with it better than he did.

He wasn't a threat. He wasn't anything resembling a threat, and Walter knew it. Somewhere.

Because even though he tried, he didn't help anyone at all. He spent his entire time running away and failing to protect other people. Just like last time.

He can still feel Eileen jerking uncontrollably in his hands and screaming in pain while the other Henry (the useful one) completed the separation ritual. He could do nothing but watch her suffer.


He should be checking in on people. He's one of the few that wasn't really hurt, and the others could probably use the company. He should make sure they're doing okay. But after seeing Liz for a little while, he just can't bring himself to make the rounds.

He spends time with Eileen, and he talks with her, and he's able to keep his spirits up then. They're able to talk about what they're going to do now. He can (shyly) ask her about where she wants to go on their first date. He can ask her how her parents are doing. They can mostly pretend it's over. But every time they're separated, it all comes back. He wonders how long it'll be before even she can't keep it away.
((Note!! Don't read if you don't wants spoilers for the 2006 Silent Hill/Nexus game. This isn't actually written anywhere, it's just Save Game data. ;-) ))

Read more...Collapse )
Hey, guys...

I know we've been working on this for awhile, but I was looking over some of the old records...the Halo symbol was what was around the holes in Walter's world, right? Or part of it, anyway. And that was the way me and Henry had to get around. So with these keys...we know they'd work better as those runes, but what if they need to be a circle, too? I don't know if they have to go around something specific, or if it could just be a wall...I don't know. Anyway, what do you think?

[Locked to Eileen]Collapse )
Things are better than they've been in awhile.

We'll keep working on it.
Hey, Eileen, Henry? What's this: ceteradesuntcaveatshencameratutamenconsummatumnonest ? I found it in the typewriter notes, and it says it's supposed to be for me, but I can't find whatever page comes before it. This isn't something I remember seeing before.

[Locked to Eileen]

Are you doing okay?

Walter, I will not let you have her. She will NEVER be yours. No matter how 'powerful' you make yourself, she will not. I'll make sure of that.
((This is meant to take place during the stay at the cabin in 713. I didn't get to writing it till now.))

He'd been doing his best the past few days, but Henry Townshend was even more exhausted than he expected. He'd stayed up to make sure Henry Sherman-Townshend slept, to make sure the guy had enough of the sedative he needed. He had to remind him he needed to sleep or else the man would end up desperately clawing at nothing.

On the fourth day, thankfully, the poor husband didn't need the drug. It made him foggy and that was a state that scared the other one more than anything. Being foggy was something he remembered. Fogginess meant drifting, and drifting meant going back.

Unfortunately, after that drug, there came the nights of sleeplessness. That sort of foggy was almost worse. It was sharp and biting, just like the death dreams Walter had forced him through a year ago. So Henry did his best to get the husband talking. He'd sleep in that same room with the man so they could talk whenever they needed, since the nighttime was so often fraught with pain and hurt.

They'd talk about anything they could- a lot of it was planning, but there were also attempts to get away from the subject. They talked about photography, they talked about England. They talked about Eileen.

And sometimes...sometimes they would talk about Liz...Collapse )

"But...what if that's the only way she'll be free? What if I blow it by trying other ways and he kills her and- I can't let that happen. I can't let her be one of his, I CAN'T." His eyes were no less dead, but his face twitched back in a sort of desperate hope. "I could make sure, I have a connection....I could take that power from Walter and crush his world...just need that book from James-"

The yelling surprised both men. "STOP it! STOP. Do you want to be a- a thing once Liz is free? Do you want to be like HIM? Do you think Liz'd want that? What the hell is wrong with you?!" He shook the husband by the shoulders. "Don't you dare do that to her! ...to yourself!"


But it was a panicked silence, and Henry Sherman-Townshend's eyes sparked out of that fear.

They didn't speak again for over an hour.
I was really not expecting that.

I tried to get out as quick as I could...but I still felt bad leaving him there. He seemed like a nice guy- it's not his fault that his name's Walter Sullivan. I'm glad one of them turned out okay, at least. Wish I could do more to help him...I hope the other Walter leaves him alone.

Still, it gives me a headache.

Last Sunday, I ended up over at Toluca Lake. I don't think that's going to happen again. I'm really scared about what I might be missing...but I notice it now. That's a good thing.

I talked to Ed at work again yesterday. Eileen? Would you be interested in maybe going to dinner with him and me sometime this week? He wanted to take me out for a beer to apologize for how we met, but I told him I wasn't big on that, so now he's insisting on dinner.
Mooore meme. I require more.

Post a reply to this entry and I'll tell you what O!Henry thinks of your character.

Same warnings apply. Internet spotty, blah blah blah.
I really really don't like her. I knew I wouldn't, but...god, it's like she's making fun of Eileen or something. It's disgusting.

It's still the only thing we've got to make him leave us alone. I just have to remember that it's worth it if Eileen doesn't have to talk to him anymore. And it did seem to calm him down.

God, this is such a bad idea. I hate that thing. What's worse...there's not anything I can do about it. Everything else is worse than what we have now. This is so damn frustrating.

I guess I just have to make sure I'm there for Eileen. This has to be even harder on her....
Paranoid Disorder:Very High
Schizoid Disorder:Very High
Schizotypal Disorder:High
Antisocial Disorder:Moderate
Borderline Disorder:Low
Histrionic Disorder:Low
Narcissistic Disorder:Low
Avoidant Disorder:Very High
Dependent Disorder:Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:Low

-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --
-- Personality Disorders --

I probably shouldn't have taken this right now...but I was curious.

I don't think the paranoid one should count, though.
I still feel like I should tell him what really happened. Maybe the anonymous mail is a good idea? But then he's just going to look deeper, and I don't want him to get hurt...he'd probably know it was me, anyway.

Ed has been into the store a couple times since then. I was glad to see him- I thought he was going to go down there, but I guess he thought better of it. Or he's still getting information, maybe.

I don't know what to do about the rest of this. I can't think of it all at once.
The very second he sees this, Henry hits the speed dial and waits anxiously.
Well, I guess that phone call could've gone worse....I told him as much as I told the police- about the ritual and the killings. He wanted to know more about the second group- of course he did, he wanted to know about Joseph. I stayed vague. I did end up telling him about Paul, though- I don't know if I should've done that. He was really nice to me- must've said thank you twenty times. I tried to tell him how bad the cult was, but I don't know if he listened. I hope he isn't going to go off and do something....I hope he believed me. I hope it wasn't too obvious that I wasn't telling him everything.

But I still feel like I did the right thing.
I'm sorry if I was quiet today. I've been trying to think this out.

A man by the name of Edward March approached me last night- he said he was Joseph Schreiber's friend. He's been trying to find the connection between the murders and Joseph's disappearance.

I...I don't know what to do about this.
Clack, clack, clickclack...this work is easy and lacks any sort of real thought. Henry stares at the colors as he rearranges the stack of movies into alphabetical order. It was always nice and slow on weekday nights.

'Hello, I'm looking for something on serial killers?'Collapse )
Did Inventory a few nights ago. It went pretty well...and I guess I'm getting a promotion. So money won't be quite as tight for me. That'll be nice.

I've been trying to get out on my days off, practice my photography. I think I'm going to apply for another business license, once I've got enough saved. I might have better luck here than I did in Ashfield, too. There's more businesses, at least.

I'm trying to be a little better with other things, too. I'm not having as many...problems as I had been. It only happens a couple times a week now. I've been getting more tense moments (especially when I'm alone, like right after we close the store), but those are much easier to deal with.

Things are getting better. Or starting to, at least.
Wow...I'm really lucky I didn't get fired today. My boss is very understanding.

I don't know how I'm going to explain why I couldn't handle listening to a kids' movie...especially since the real explanation is pathetic enough. I don't know why it set me off so bad.

I've been really trying to get better with this stuff...
He only has a few boxes and one suitcase, so he and Eileen can handle it in one trip. That he's sure about. He's nervous and excited at the same time- it'll be nice to have a place of his own, but is it going to be like last time? It coudln't be, of course not, but...he still feels a little tense. It's as if he's finally rejoining the land of the living- and he's still not quite sure what that means.

The packing had been done long before Eileen arrived. The suitcase contains not clothes, but camera equipment. He didn't feel right stuffing it in with other stuff, especially since lenses always seem to squirm down to the bottom. He sticks the last box on the borrowed rolling dolly and looks up at Eileen. "I think that's it. It's weird...we could probably just 'point with this stuff...but I'd rather we just walk, I guess."
I just got back from another world where I was pretending to be a married version of me, and I co-signed a lease with a younger version of me.

This has been the weirdest day I've had in awhile. But I'm glad I could help. And the world didn't explode or anything, so that was nice.

Liz is still out. Hopefully, Henry will find something soon.
To my coworkers and customers:

(Yes, I know you can't read this.)

No, I don't want to watch the Fog. I don't care if it's a good or bad horror movie. I don't care if it has Selma Blair in it. I don't care if I can get it early for free. Stop trying to get me to watch it.

He's seeing him more often now, the figment of his nightmares wrapped in normality. A flash of blood-spattered blue, then a flash of something else, something metallic, and then Henry's blood leaking out onto the floor, and all he can think is damn, I just mopped that.

And then someone would ask him something and he'd be standing there again. Before the flashes. And nothing had happened at all- how could he have thought all that was happening?

His dreams are somewhat better- at least until he wakes up. He dreams of 302 and how happy he was there. There are no cracks, no holes, no wall full of screaming twisted infants. There's just him in his home, content to watch the world go by. He feels sick when he sees it for what it is in the morning.

The thorazine's not helping. Well, it is, but just a little tiny bit- just enough to keep him from stopping with it altogether. Just enough to give him the hope that maybe...somehow...it'll start doing something because it really did seem to work the first couple of days he tried it. He's being very good and not taking more than he's supposed to, and he thinks that should count for something.. Henry has no idea that the doctor who prescribed it to him gives it out like candy (as if it will help anything and everything), and that what Henry wants are the side effects, the temporary relaxation, the sleep...he could get this from something far less toxic in the long term, but he just hasn't thought about it. He tries not to think of much, now.

They make everything a little more dull, at least. That's what he needs right now. Something mundane. Definitely not this new idea that at any moment, another version of Walter from another fucking universe might drop in on them and decide to finish what the other one started.... He doubted that the god thing would care very much which Walter Sullivan completed the ritual.

It would be so easy, wouldn't it? A slash of numbers on his chest and it'd be done.

He tries not to think about that. He can't think about that- he has to make sure Eileen is okay...she's more affected by this than he is, anyway. She's the one who was out there talking to him, who was fighting with Liz over him...god, that sounds stupid even thinking it. But she's the one always doing things. Like always, Henry's the one sitting back and watching it happen.

And he needs to be normal, for himself as much as for her. He's not happy with any of the photos he's taken since they came back, so he has to be able to work. He can't work if he's hallucinating all the time. And if he can't work, he can't pay for things like those pills that will work some day, damn it.

There's a lot of times when he's perfectly happy, really grateful, just to be alive. When the air is sweet and he's glad to have Eileen to talk to, and Liz and Henry to fall back on if times get hard. But sometimes...sometimes when times get hard, he can't bother anyone about it. Because all he can see are endless days of mindless work and always that possibility that he will come back and end it all in one stroke. And maybe Henry won't even mind by then.

That's not something other people can make better, no matter how much they care.

He just has to hope that things will be better tomorrow. That he'll see the shapes and colors he used to see, not the vacant smile and the empty green eyes.

Things have to be better tomorrow.
Had a bit of a problem at work today....

Sometimes I hate movies. I think I'll stick to the Disney stuff.

Still haven't found a place to live, although a couple of places are starting to look promising.
So am I the only one, then? This doesn't even make sense.

God, it isn't fair.

You'd think I'd be used to it by now.
All right, guess I'll be late to the meme. Again. *grin*

I stole this from Liz, who stole this from Eileen, who stole it from etc etc. I think I first saw it on Derek's LJ.

"How's my driving?"

I would like to hear anything you have to say about how I'm playing Henry. Good or bad, it doesn't matter. Post anonymous if you'd like, and feel free to ask questions. Mmmm, feedback.
[Locked to Liz and Henry Sherman-Townshend]Collapse )
Today was my second day at the video store. It went pretty well, all things considered. I was mostly normal, and the manager seemed to like the work I was doing. I only got weirded out once the whole day.

We watched Sky High about six times while I was there. Well, not really 'watched,' but it was playing on the screens. A new popular PG movie. That was...odd.

Other than that, I'm doing okay. Still haven't found an apartment. Still not sleeping too well. Better than in Ashfield, at least.
[Locked against everyone]

I should've just waited.

I realized that as I started on the third one. I think I'll leave it alone.

That just leaves....well. I have to know.

It might take me awhile. I've been having less time to mess with this stuff. Which is good, I think.
Liz, Henry...your cat was in the Nexus again. I don't know how she got in there. I'll go looking again tomorrow, but I can't go in the Nexus right now. As stupid as it sounds, I don't want to start singing again.

Eileen, if I can help with anything...please let me know. I figured you'd want some time to yourself. I still don't know exactly what happened to us. God, I hate the Nexus sometimes.

[Locked against all]Collapse )
I got tired of not knowing and found a place that sold me all the games. They were used- I got them and the system for $70. I haven't told Eileen yet. Maybe when I know more about all this, I can. I don't know if she'd understand.

...I don't know if I understand.

Got through most of the first game. I've seen a lot of it before- at least something similar. The graphics make it easier to take, but it's still hard.

How can this be a person's life?

Edit: We're leaving soon. Thank God. I wish Eileen didn't have such a hard time with it. I know why she is, though- it's got to be hard saying goodbye to all that.