Dr. William Flemming (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myfedorarocks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
caveofsapphires2012-04-10 09:57 pm
myfedorarocks) wrote in caveofsapphires2012-04-10 09:57 pm
What a strange, strange man
WHO: Twitch (Dr. Grant)
WHAT: Twitch is new here. He has no idea what's going on, but he's going to be exploring and doing some reading.
WHERE: The cave, specifically the library
WHEN: Immediately after his arrival (April 10th)
This place was strange. Stranger than the facility on the island had been. At least then, it had felt familiar, even if he hadn't understood why he knew his way around the facility. But this wasn't something completely knew, and on top of that, his dream hadn't been real? But that part... that part made sense.
They hadn't told him what the accident had involved. Maybe it was what made him like this, unsure of what was going on. Unsure of even his own name. The name "Allen Grant" held nothing for him. But then, "Twitch" had been something the children in his dream had called him because of his ever present nervous tick. It had been something he enjoyed, a name more real sounding than anything else, but he didn't exactly want to get in trouble for calling himself something that he was told wasn't real.
Twitch was a much better name for himself, because he would be a terrible doctor. His hands shook all the time. About the only time he was able to hold them steady was... well. He hadn't exactly found a consistent manner in which he was able to hold his hands steady.
It must have been a terrible accident, though, for him to not remember his name. To not have a name even in his dream. How many years had he been in the hospital? The photograph of him was quite old and he did look younger, maybe by ten years or so.
His head hurt, and the place was making him disoriented and confused. It was why he found himself, after a long time, at the library. Maybe he could find something here. Something about the city as it used to be, before the Disaster. Maybe he could find some newspaper clippings about himself here. About what made him into this scared, nervous wreck of a man. About the accidents. Anything at all.
He had been told he was respected, surely he was well liked enough that there would be something?
WHAT: Twitch is new here. He has no idea what's going on, but he's going to be exploring and doing some reading.
WHERE: The cave, specifically the library
WHEN: Immediately after his arrival (April 10th)
This place was strange. Stranger than the facility on the island had been. At least then, it had felt familiar, even if he hadn't understood why he knew his way around the facility. But this wasn't something completely knew, and on top of that, his dream hadn't been real? But that part... that part made sense.
They hadn't told him what the accident had involved. Maybe it was what made him like this, unsure of what was going on. Unsure of even his own name. The name "Allen Grant" held nothing for him. But then, "Twitch" had been something the children in his dream had called him because of his ever present nervous tick. It had been something he enjoyed, a name more real sounding than anything else, but he didn't exactly want to get in trouble for calling himself something that he was told wasn't real.
Twitch was a much better name for himself, because he would be a terrible doctor. His hands shook all the time. About the only time he was able to hold them steady was... well. He hadn't exactly found a consistent manner in which he was able to hold his hands steady.
It must have been a terrible accident, though, for him to not remember his name. To not have a name even in his dream. How many years had he been in the hospital? The photograph of him was quite old and he did look younger, maybe by ten years or so.
His head hurt, and the place was making him disoriented and confused. It was why he found himself, after a long time, at the library. Maybe he could find something here. Something about the city as it used to be, before the Disaster. Maybe he could find some newspaper clippings about himself here. About what made him into this scared, nervous wreck of a man. About the accidents. Anything at all.
He had been told he was respected, surely he was well liked enough that there would be something?
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He seemed to believe what they'd been told about this world, so she played along.
no subject