[not open/soliloquy] -- in which Luis reflects
who: Luis
where: Pueblo; I imagined him being up on one of the cliffs surrounding the village, out of sight.
when: November 20th, 2004
rating: PG-13? R? I don't know. There's some (veeeeeery little) angst, a lot of swearing, and poorly constructed sentences. o_o
notes: I was just trying to get in character and whatever... I've never played Luis before, so I hope this is okay. And um. I'll just say that it was after this when he got captured bya horde of really ugly fangirls the ganados. So, in the actual game right now, he's probably ... in a cupboard, rolling around. I guess.
“Ah, shit,” Luis muttered, shaking the last Marlboro from the crumpled red and white pack. He'd smoked a lot more than he'd meant to, it seemed. He always smoked more when he felt strained— and if being chased by a mob of sycophantic villagers wasn't enough to make a guy feel stressed, Sera didn't know what was.
For the time being, however, the ganados had backed off, but they were crafty in a primitive manner— they could have some sort of medieval device up their sleeves: a trebuchet, or maybe, just maaaybe, a good ol' ambush, complete with pitchforks and torches, that would be happily ended by Mr. Luis Sera, virologist extrordinare, getting his overeducated ass stuffed into an iron maiden, or beheaded with a rusty, bloodstained guillotine...
I think it'd be better if you just stopped thinking, pendejo.
Luis let out a heavy breath that wasn't quite a sigh and shoved the cigarette into his mouth, sequentially lighting it and taking a long drag.
He stood like that for a while—just smoking and thinking.
This village... Pueblo... had been his; as a child, he'd become familiar with every nook, every cranny, every entrance, and every exit. And now... he'd let the village lose all of its sanctity, and for what? A bit of money, and the chance to work with Las Plagas (though he had to admit that his curiosity for the parasite was a morbid one; the creatures were amazing, he had to give Saddler that). As a scientist, it was great, but as a human...
“You fucked up,” he murmured in a scolding tone.
where: Pueblo; I imagined him being up on one of the cliffs surrounding the village, out of sight.
when: November 20th, 2004
rating: PG-13? R? I don't know. There's some (veeeeeery little) angst, a lot of swearing, and poorly constructed sentences. o_o
notes: I was just trying to get in character and whatever... I've never played Luis before, so I hope this is okay. And um. I'll just say that it was after this when he got captured by
“Ah, shit,” Luis muttered, shaking the last Marlboro from the crumpled red and white pack. He'd smoked a lot more than he'd meant to, it seemed. He always smoked more when he felt strained— and if being chased by a mob of sycophantic villagers wasn't enough to make a guy feel stressed, Sera didn't know what was.
For the time being, however, the ganados had backed off, but they were crafty in a primitive manner— they could have some sort of medieval device up their sleeves: a trebuchet, or maybe, just maaaybe, a good ol' ambush, complete with pitchforks and torches, that would be happily ended by Mr. Luis Sera, virologist extrordinare, getting his overeducated ass stuffed into an iron maiden, or beheaded with a rusty, bloodstained guillotine...
I think it'd be better if you just stopped thinking, pendejo.
Luis let out a heavy breath that wasn't quite a sigh and shoved the cigarette into his mouth, sequentially lighting it and taking a long drag.
He stood like that for a while—just smoking and thinking.
This village... Pueblo... had been his; as a child, he'd become familiar with every nook, every cranny, every entrance, and every exit. And now... he'd let the village lose all of its sanctity, and for what? A bit of money, and the chance to work with Las Plagas (though he had to admit that his curiosity for the parasite was a morbid one; the creatures were amazing, he had to give Saddler that). As a scientist, it was great, but as a human...
“You fucked up,” he murmured in a scolding tone.