Grey [Snowpiercer]

Homeplot 1/12

2015-01-02T03:02:24Z

The rocking of the train felt like it came from inside his bones. Grey knew it by heart. He adjusted easily, he adjusted without thinking anything of it. He moved between the bunks, knowing just where to reach for, what to touch, what bunks to avoid because of splinters, what people didn't like being touched. He stopped at Edgar and Curtis's bunk, peering into both to see if they were there, then if they were awake. He checked Curtis first. Curtis would have answers.

How he came to be here again, he didn't know. How he woke up here when he'd gone to bed with Rat, Grey didn't know. The smells here are harsh on his nose; he'd grown used to being clean. Curtis? Maybe he knew. Maybe they could go together to see Gilliam. His stomach was twisted so tightly it hurt. Gilliam. He'd said goodbye to Gilliam, he'd let him go. He'd let go of this coat, too - it was supposed to be hanging in Yuuko's closet. But he wore it.

Wake up, Curtis. Wake up. They were back on the train.

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Our dried voices / when We whisper together / Are quiet and meaningless

2014-09-23T23:45:55Z

He was being followed. Every time, though, that Grey turned around, there was no one there, or someone simply passing along the street, not following, not threatening, not even bothering with the strange, silent boy in the scrubs and cast.

When he stopped, ducking around a corner, he waited, finally sneaking a peek where he'd come from.

That was when he saw it. A sad, battered looking thing who went still at being watched, scrunched against the wall. What was that? Slowly, Grey crouched down, staring at it, the creature looking right back at him.

It was missing an eye, it was dirty and had clearly been in more than one fight. As weird as it sounded, the thing made Grey feel something in his chest - a tight warmth. From his pocket, he pulled a small packet of cheese and bread he'd brought and he pulled off a bit, holding it out.

For a long time, the creature didn't move, his nose flaring. Then, when Grey stayed very still, he came forward, sniffing at the food, then quickly snatching it, skittering away to eat it. The boy took a bite, too, leaning his back against a building as he shared his small meal with his new friend in bits and scraps.

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arrival (closed to Curtis)

2014-09-15T20:11:00Z

The pain wasn't bad, not really. As he'd trained, he'd been hurt a lot, muscles and joints bruised and bones nearly broken. He's used to pain. This - this pain he felt now - was nothing new, not really. It was just more final and Grey knew it. Since Gilliam was dead, this - death - was nearly a relief. He'd done what he could to help Curtis, to avenge Gilliam's death. Nothing more could be done. As he felt the knife press into his chest, he sank into oblivion.

Only to wake up with a start at the train seeming to have stopped. He was on the floor, of course. The pain woke up a second later and he hissed out between clenched teeth. He pulled and realized that the knife was still lodged through his right hand. That hand throbbed and his entire body felt as if he had been been through too much, worse than any training session. His left hand hung from his wrist uselessly. He forced his eyes open and stared at the ceiling of the steam car of the train.

Where was the old man in the suit?, he suddenly wondered, the one who had been fighting him? Grey's vigilance forced him to sitting, ready for more fighting despite the pain. He pushed the knife from his hand and held it, even if the pain seared through his palm, his left hand still hung loosely; the wrist was broken. It didn't mattier. Surely, if the train had stopped, he must be ready for anything. He pushed to his feet and forward in the train, it not yet occurring to him to go outside the car. After all, wasn't the world still frozen?

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