Slade Wilson (Deathstroke the Terminator) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
terminates) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-06-02 12:48 am
terminates) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-06-02 12:48 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Deathstroke (terminates) and Re-l Mayer (awakenings)
When: June 1st, early evening.
Where: Mugshots bar, Sector 4.
Summary: Despite being sick, Slade has opted to go to work. Re-l finds him there.
Warnings: Guilt plague things.
[ He's sick.
He's known about it for the last several days but hasn't actually done much more than ignore it as best he could. Business has slowed, and since Death is more than a little preoccupied, he's taken the liberty of shutting the doors early and having others do it for him.
Slumping heavily in his chair, he peers around at his office, the papers and bureaucratic nonsense piling up everywhere. He hasn't actually had enough brainpower to handle anything like it for two days. Yes, he knows the cause of this, and yes, he knows there is a cure. He just hasn't gotten around to addressing either.
Rubbing his face, he feels the fever and closes his eye. He doesn't expect to die, knows he won't, but that doesn't make it any less miserable. Maybe a nap is all he needs... ]
terminates) and Re-l Mayer (awakenings)When: June 1st, early evening.
Where: Mugshots bar, Sector 4.
Summary: Despite being sick, Slade has opted to go to work. Re-l finds him there.
Warnings: Guilt plague things.
[ He's sick.
He's known about it for the last several days but hasn't actually done much more than ignore it as best he could. Business has slowed, and since Death is more than a little preoccupied, he's taken the liberty of shutting the doors early and having others do it for him.
Slumping heavily in his chair, he peers around at his office, the papers and bureaucratic nonsense piling up everywhere. He hasn't actually had enough brainpower to handle anything like it for two days. Yes, he knows the cause of this, and yes, he knows there is a cure. He just hasn't gotten around to addressing either.
Rubbing his face, he feels the fever and closes his eye. He doesn't expect to die, knows he won't, but that doesn't make it any less miserable. Maybe a nap is all he needs... ]