whitereflection: (sam in profile (bw))
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Toying with something (re: a s/d Mage: the Ascension-ish sort of AU mentioned yesterday), just a beginning of an opening scene. For-freaking-ever since I played that game...like eleven years? Not even all the opening scene, plus game-related vocabulary, so really won't make sense, v. rough.


Day 19 11/19/10 4:30-5:14

He shouldn't have come back.

When Sam had left almost three years go, he'd sworn he'd never return. After all, he'd been told to get the hell out, so why would he want to return? Especially when he was finally going to do what he'd always wanted, no needed to do, what he'd always dreamed of.

But then...then it'd all gone to hell.

A ghostly figure flickered into existence in his peripheral vision, hovering next to him, whispering Of course it did. How could you expect anything else? Your curse...

Sam ignored his avatar. He just couldn't bear to look at it anymore; not since it had started to look like...her. Not since it had become the visible reminder of every mistake he'd made, every failure, of how much he'd lost.

He kept walking, sound of his footsteps on the gritty asphalt echoing hollowly in the dark alley. He tried to keep his shoulders from hunching, to stand straight without stooping. This wasn't the place to show weakness. Even if for normals Omaha was a small city, a place most in the country didn't care existed, it was the nexus for everything that wasn't normal. And even if the fragile alliance between the Mages and the Garou still stood, it was a hotbed for vampire activity--not to mention the Technocrats and the Nephandi.

Nephandi. The familiar rage and grief flared through him, his hands fisting and his jaw aching as he grit his teeth against the scream he still wouldn't let loose. The fallen mage sect and their demons had stolen everything....

Almost everything.

That's why he was here, after all, wasn't it? Because...Dean. There was still Dean.

Already staggered by first the rumors that his father had gone missing and then the news that he'd been killed, Sam had been shattered the rest of the way when a sect of Nephandi had attacked the chantry in Palo Alto, absolutely destroying it--killing every Mage that had studied there and called it home, every one except Sam.

And one of those slain Mages... His avatar materialized in front of him, still wearing the face of his dead lover. "Sam," her voice whispered from far away, as if carried by the wind. He squeezed his eyes shut. She always looked so forgiving, but always murmured to him how he was to blame.

His avatar spoke truth. It was Sam's fault, everything. The attack, the destruction of the chantry, the deaths of all the mages, Jess' death. He'd seen that it was going to happen; and more than that, it had happened because the Nephandi wanted him

And so he'd come home. It was the last place he should go. But at the same time, it was the place he needed to be most. His father...was no longer around to tell Sam he wasn't welcome. And Sam needed...Sam needed Dean. He had to find Dean.

If only there was a way to know if Dean would even want to see him again.


(504)

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