I. ARRIVAL. EXT. THE TOWN CENTER - DAY [ Well, it's a doorway of sorts. Closing his eyes as the hot, humid air rushes around him, as the great pit in the Earth rushes up to meet him, consume him— ... Conservation of momentum is a funny thing, as Artemy's heels hit solid pavement and immediately abandon all hope of graciously catching his weight. ]
[ Enter: one big, hulking fellow, skidding through a side door like a bat out of hell, stumbling, and being taken out unceremoniously by a humble park bench. He trips clean over it and lands flat on his back, half-swallowed by a bed of festive autumnal perennials. ]
[ Exhausted, completely disoriented, not to mention just covered in blood, he's just— he's going to lay here for a minute. Squinting up at the noonday sky. Is this a dream? This isn't what happens when you die, he knows that much. Whatever, this may as well happen. ]
II. PUMPKINS. EXT. THE TOWN CENTER - DAY [ No doubt there had been some unintentional pumpkin carnage in his initial drop in. He probably punted at least one into next week, but he'd been a little preoccupied at the time. They're harder to miss now, gathering around him like angry little ducklings. There'd only been a few when he'd closed his eyes for a minute on this bench, and now they're practically spilling over, scowling intensely. ]
[ He scowls back. ]
[ Just as he's picking one up and contemplating reinventing Punkin Chunkin, he notices you nearby. The lone suspect. He holds the pumpkin up a little more. ]
You running around leaving portraits? [ It's uncanny, really, the more you look at it. ] I don't know if I'm flattered by the dedication or offended by the likeness.
[ Seriously, there's like twenty of them. He does look about two steps away from kicking your ass for it, but he's joking. That's just his face. And his voice. And his... everything... He's very tired. ]
III. WHAT A RIDE. EXT. THE WELL - EVENING [ When the horse first mopes into view, Artemy is all for it. All pats and shushes and good good neck rubs, it's a suspiciously tame horse. But for all it tries to get him on its back, his feet are very good at staying planted. It's been years since he's ridden a horse. He knows better. ]
[ So now it's become a bit of a nuisance, roaming along after him as he walks back towards the town proper, knocking its head against his shoulder, nipping at his sweater, nosing in under his arm in search of more attention. And it's endearing, for a bit, but he's got like. Shit to do. Come on, buddy. ]
[ The next person he sees, he gestures. ]
Hey. You lose something?
[ Lose your horse?? The one that he's almost got in a headlock by no fault of his own, the way it keeps trying to sidle under his arm and get him to swing over its back. Please be your horse? Please take your horse. ]
IV. HEART GAME. NETWORK - NIGHT [ ???? ]
At this rate I just look forward to the excuse to sleep in.
Artemy Burakh | Pathologic 2
[ Well, it's a doorway of sorts. Closing his eyes as the hot, humid air rushes around him, as the great pit in the Earth rushes up to meet him, consume him— ... Conservation of momentum is a funny thing, as Artemy's heels hit solid pavement and immediately abandon all hope of graciously catching his weight. ]
[ Enter: one big, hulking fellow, skidding through a side door like a bat out of hell, stumbling, and being taken out unceremoniously by a humble park bench. He trips clean over it and lands flat on his back, half-swallowed by a bed of festive autumnal perennials. ]
[ Exhausted, completely disoriented, not to mention just covered in blood, he's just— he's going to lay here for a minute. Squinting up at the noonday sky. Is this a dream? This isn't what happens when you die, he knows that much. Whatever, this may as well happen. ]
II. PUMPKINS. EXT. THE TOWN CENTER - DAY
[ No doubt there had been some unintentional pumpkin carnage in his initial drop in. He probably punted at least one into next week, but he'd been a little preoccupied at the time. They're harder to miss now, gathering around him like angry little ducklings. There'd only been a few when he'd closed his eyes for a minute on this bench, and now they're practically spilling over, scowling intensely. ]
[ He scowls back. ]
[ Just as he's picking one up and contemplating reinventing Punkin Chunkin, he notices you nearby. The lone suspect. He holds the pumpkin up a little more. ]
You running around leaving portraits? [ It's uncanny, really, the more you look at it. ] I don't know if I'm flattered by the dedication or offended by the likeness.
[ Seriously, there's like twenty of them. He does look about two steps away from kicking your ass for it, but he's joking. That's just his face. And his voice. And his... everything... He's very tired. ]
III. WHAT A RIDE. EXT. THE WELL - EVENING
[ When the horse first mopes into view, Artemy is all for it. All pats and shushes and good good neck rubs, it's a suspiciously tame horse. But for all it tries to get him on its back, his feet are very good at staying planted. It's been years since he's ridden a horse. He knows better. ]
[ So now it's become a bit of a nuisance, roaming along after him as he walks back towards the town proper, knocking its head against his shoulder, nipping at his sweater, nosing in under his arm in search of more attention. And it's endearing, for a bit, but he's got like. Shit to do. Come on, buddy. ]
[ The next person he sees, he gestures. ]
Hey. You lose something?
[ Lose your horse?? The one that he's almost got in a headlock by no fault of his own, the way it keeps trying to sidle under his arm and get him to swing over its back. Please be your horse? Please take your horse. ]
IV. HEART GAME. NETWORK - NIGHT
[ ???? ]
At this rate I just look forward to the excuse to sleep in.
[ Please let him back into his phone now. ]