♠ | 032 | Video + Spam
lastrat: (I'll die another day)
[personal profile] lastrat
[The video comes on, and there's a flash of Bond's face - contorted in exertion and annoyance - before the device clatters to the floor. There's what looks like a giant boulder, rolling slowly, and eventually one of Bond's feet. His voice comes at the distance.]

I - have had - enough - bloody floods - to last - shit!

[The boulder comes back into view, rolling quickly - then the feed dies.]

[Open Spam]

[James Bond is not one to look for signs in his daily life. He believes in clues, contingencies, solid, physical aspects of the real world. He believes in what he can see and touch; he doesn't believe in signs that are more likely than not, coincidence and nothing more.

That said, he has spent the morning wondering if this flood is a sign. It's been six months since Ellie vanished and his job was left undone. He doesn't like leaving things unfinished, likes it less when he has no control over finishing them. Four months since he was even assigned a temporary inmate, though he's not particularly bothered by that: he still doesn't see the point. It doesn't earn him his deal. He's no closer to it than he was when he first came back with her blood on his clothes.

And there is no denying how similar this week's flood is in that regard. He's bloody Sisyphus, and his muscles are already exhausted with the constant pushing, rolling, of a boulder nearly his own height. He can't leave it, he can only rest for a few moments, and every time he nears the deck, he loses his grip and it goes rolling, tumbling back down to Zero. He can be found at varying levels throughout the flood, always pushing his boulder or chasing it. At some point, he loses his jacket: by the end of the flood, he's thrown off his sweat soaked shirt as well, baring all his scars to the world. The most noticeable are his right shoulder, his abdomen, along the inside of his left arm; he doesn't care. By the time his shirt is gone, overexertion has his muscles shaking.]