понедельник, 19 сентября 2016
На самом деле это не драббл (не дотягивает) и не хэдканон (не могу сказать, что прямо-таки верю в то, что сама придумала), а просто попытка придать более-менее чёткую форму идее, которая довольно-таки долго крутилась у меня в голове. На английском, потому что сначала я написала это на тумблере, где сама что-то пишу крайне редко, но в случае с "Домом странных детей" я со своими коллажиками вроде как попала в фэндом, так что почему бы и нет.
Пусть будет и здесь.
(a concept: grown-up Enoch O’Connor and Horace Somnusson becoming private detectives)(a concept: grown-up Enoch O’Connor and Horace Somnusson becoming private detectives)
People don’t really like them.
They’re known across the loops, what with communication being much easier now that the Panloopticon is open and wights and hollows are gone. One of those lucky ones who can stay outside and live without fear of aging forward, people say (those people who did not fight for the Library of Souls, those who have never been captured by wights, those who do not know the price of such luck). They’re known because they always manage to solve the cases entrusted to them, and hated by many for the same reason - because there are always people who would prefer the truth to lie still, not only in Devil’s Acre but also in many other, more respectable-looking loops. That is the flipside of being damn good at what you do. It is worth it.
Mr O’Connor is the one that is shorter and broader, the one who is not nearly as nice as the other one. Frankly speaking, he never tries to be nice. He poses uncomfortable questions to the living and the dead alike, and only laughs at the things that other people find too horrible to laugh at. He likes to repeat that he’s in the business for the very process of it, for the thrill - and for the sake of making a living, of course - not because he believes that he’s making the world a better place. For every bit of injustice eliminated, there will appear more, and such state of affairs is convenient to too many people, and, honestly, he doesn’t care (this is where his partner usually rolls his eyes, indicating that Mr O’Connor probably doesn’t really mean what he says). People dislike his sharp tongue and cruel sarcasm, his plain clothes and his Cockney accent. People dislike him because he’s getting shit done. There are also those who are thankful for that, however.
Mr Somnusson is the taller one, the nicer one - even if in a slightly condescending way; always in a fine suit and with a cane (a sword-cane?) and most refined manners. He seems to actually believe in fighting for justice and helping people; he seems to be the kind of person likely to faint at the sight of blood not to find those who spilled that blood (he finds them; they always find them); he says things like “I apologize for my colleague’s behaviour; he is in a bad mood, that is all”. People still dislike him because he knows things. He knows things, he dreams things, he knows things after or even before they happen, and nobody feels completely at ease talking to him, because what might he know? That you cheat on your spouse? That you made sure your brother is written out of the will? That the last face the victim saw was not yours, yet you were the one who hired the killer? He will never tell until it’s time. And when it’s time, you’ll be in trouble.
People don’t really like them; they don’t really seem to care. They don’t seem to like each other very much either, or at least that is the impression one gets when seeing them bicker over and over again. Still, somehow they stick together after all these years. Somehow, after all the attempts to get them out of the way, they’re still there, still getting in the way of those who would rather prefer them gone.
Somehow they still get shit done; maybe they’re the lucky ones indeed.
@музыка:
Bear McCreary - Theme from Black Sails
@темы:
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