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fandomhighdorms2015-05-07 01:42 pm
ihuntkillers.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhighdorms2015-05-07 01:42 pm
Entry tags:
5th Floor Common Room; Thursday Afternoon
His first class was in the books and Jasper really didn't know what to make of this place. He'd expected to be sitting through classes that detailed the ins and outs of the works of Walden or Thoreau or taught him how to solve high level math problems. Instead, he'd dealt with a simulation about the aftermath of the end of the world.
Kinda interesting, he had to admit.
He had one more class tomorrow and then he'd make judgments on the whole thing. For now, he was sitting back on the couch with a battered manilla folder on his lap. Inside were the pictures of his father's victims that he'd hung up at home. One hundred and twenty four pictures. In a new place with so many new people, he needed this. He needed the reminder of what could happen if he ever lost control.
Prospects are there for you and for me, Jasper. That’s what they exist for, get it?
"Thanks, Dear Old Dad," he muttered, flipping to the picture between the eightieth and the eighty first victims. His mother's face stared back at him and he touched the old photo with a fingertip before sighing and closing the folder.
He left it on his lap and turned on the television. Maybe he'd try and do something normal.
[ Open ]
Kinda interesting, he had to admit.
He had one more class tomorrow and then he'd make judgments on the whole thing. For now, he was sitting back on the couch with a battered manilla folder on his lap. Inside were the pictures of his father's victims that he'd hung up at home. One hundred and twenty four pictures. In a new place with so many new people, he needed this. He needed the reminder of what could happen if he ever lost control.
Prospects are there for you and for me, Jasper. That’s what they exist for, get it?
"Thanks, Dear Old Dad," he muttered, flipping to the picture between the eightieth and the eighty first victims. His mother's face stared back at him and he touched the old photo with a fingertip before sighing and closing the folder.
He left it on his lap and turned on the television. Maybe he'd try and do something normal.
[ Open ]