sirenspull_logs | Is there a hand to take hold of the scene?

Who: Cooper and OPEN to hospital staff and patients
When: May 23 - 25
Where: a private room in SPGH's recovery ward
Summary: Since the doctors won't let him leave yet, Cooper's asked to share his room with flu patients.
Warnings: Buddhism and mild clairvoyance?
Notes: If you want your character to make a sudden recovery, shove them in this room and let Cooper chat them up for a while.

Dale Cooper was eager to leave the hospital. It wasn't that he wanted to be a difficult patient, but he believed the local doctors were being overly cautious when it came to his wounds. No one seemed to believe that he felt fit enough to check out of the hospital, let alone explore the city as he so wanted to do. But, compared to past injuries, an abdominal gunshot wound and a few broken ribs seemed mild. He was convinced he was well on his way to a full recovery and should already have returned to work.

If they weren't going to allow him to check out, though, then he insisted they wheel in a few extra beds to accommodate flu patients who needed the room more desperately than he did. So far, he had displayed complete immunity. Theoretically, this was because he was not consumed with guilt. Cooper wasn't sure how much he believed the assessment that this illness was connected with guilt, but he would operate is if it was correct. And he intended to greet his new roommates with compassion.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Cooper recognized the gaze of intense scrutiny. He employed it himself so often. It made him immediately believe that there were several levels to this question, and he remembered the words he heard once in a dream: Through the darkness of future's past, the magician longs to see. One chants out between two worlds...

He blinked. More likely, according to logic, she was asking him about the Darkness in this city. The Darkness he had heard stories about but had not yet experienced for himself. "They've told me to stay inside after the sirens call at sunset," he said, "and that it'll only be safe again at dawn. They say the city streets fall into disrepair and that monsters of the night roam. They say it's so toxic that you can't even drink the water that comes from your faucet at night, because even the pipes become contaminated with poison."

There was a moment, one small instant, when it seemed Dale was conflicted about his answer. Mariella sensed not a lie but rather slight confusion. Then it was gone and his words came readily enough. At first she felt triumphant, her suspicions confirmed: Estacado was here! However, soon doubts began to take hold. What he described was not the evil she knew.

What did this mean? The Holy See had heard rumors of a town in America where the Darkness had infected everything, remaining there without a true host. Could the same thing be happening here? Or was this something new?

She frowned. Her predicament made less sense by the minute. Worse yet, as her confusion grew, a creeping fear began to take root in her. What if none of this was real? What if Estacado had infected her mind, leaving her trapped in this nightmare?

No! He would not be able to fool her in such a way. She was the Magdalena and could not be tainted; it was the only thing of which she could be certain. The answers to most of her other questions would have to wait until she could see this evil for herself. For now she would have to make do with the testimony of others.

"I do not doubt that evil is here. But have seen this Darkness with your own eyes or confirmed any of these claims?"

"Everything I've seen has been from the window of this room," Cooper answered, nodding toward it. "Needless to say, it isn't much. But everyone I've questioned about it says the same thing, more or less. At the very least, I believe that they believe this is truth. My own investigation will have to come after I've recovered."

He paused, then, and dropped his gaze to his hands. Specifically to his left hand. He'd worn a ring on that pinky and it had vanished shortly before he was Pulled out of his world. He still felt its absence even now.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer. Solemn. "What I can say is, I feel the Darkness. I feel it when the sun sets, like an ice-cold wind blowing over the city. It is an evil force greater than any I've encountered and I thank my lucky stars there's a wall between me and it."

Mariella, who had been resting at an incline, bolted upright into a rigid sitting position. Her body protested the sudden movement, but she paid it no mind. Every fiber of Mariella's being was intensely alert, her body fairly vibrating with excitement.

All of her other questions fell away. This development was of far more interest. Although she had heard of others not of the blood who could sense evil, never had she met one. Despite this, once again she did not doubt Dale's claim. He was open, earnest. His words were not spoken lightly; they carried the heavy weight of responsibility. And there was an impressive brightness to his spirit that lent him credence. However, the pitch black shadow that clung to it did give her slight pause. Of course, he could not be free of sin but...

"You have encountered and recognized evil before." Though she looked directly at him, the words were more of a musing statement than a question.

"Were you called to fight it or did it call to you?"

Cooper returned his gaze to Sister Mariella. The question sounded like something his former partner had once asked him many years ago, before they were even partners. Windom Earle had a great many ideas about the nature of evil and the FBI's role in eradicating it; namely, that such a thing could not be done.

He blinked and raised his chin. "It was my calling," Cooper answered. "And it was always there. I can't say for sure whether the call came from my heart or from the universe itself. Perhaps it was some kind of cry for help emitted from the ether. I only know that it could not be ignored."

The Magdalena nodded solemnly, satisfied by his answer.

"Many are called. Few have the fortitude to answer." Her smile was beatific. "It is always good to meet one of those rare few."

Mariella pondered their situation. The divine plan was forever in action. That was never in doubt. So, what role was she now to play?

"Perhaps people like you and I are drawn to this place for a great purpose." She preemptively waves a hand. "Yes, yes, I understand about the Core. That does not preclude the involvement of a higher power. And there is no doubt this place needs people of light to push back the dark."

Cooper smiled at that. He hadn't felt remotely compelled to argue with her; the Core, he believed, was like all things in that it was only one more piece in the hands of the great unknown. Whether that was fate or God or the collective will of the universe, the Core brought people to Siren's Port because that was exactly where they were meant to be at that moment.

But he was smiling especially because of that second note. He always tried to be an agent of light, but he was never sure he'd be successful. "Thank you," he said, because he took it as a great compliment. "And it's a comfort to know I won't be alone in carrying out that task."

Is there a hand to take hold of the scene?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject