#;daniel threads

[narrativefinale]

@sodoffyabuggers proved daniel cain hasn't seen it all

Which is kind of impressive, if you really think about it.

Truth be told, Dan isn't even sure how he ended up here. He just. Got in the car and started driving. Directionless. He's not even sure where here is. Did he go east? Maybe! He really can't say. Maybe that should be concerning. He doesn't feel all that concerned. At least not about that.

What he is concerned about is what he's looking at. Which, he can't place or put a name to.

"this is insane." He's not sure if he's talking to the guy who is also a cat, or to himself. He stands there and just stares.

[narrativefinale]

@fgreene // continued

Dan looks at Forrest with a very, very slight frown. It isn't so much that he doesn't believe Forrest, it's just... Well! Sure, Dan has reanimated the dead before. But that was all science based. Insane, yes, but based in science. He still had Herbert's notes, the man wasn't a necromancer, he was a scientist. Dan was a doctor. Science was science.

But... On the other hand, if they were bringing people's, what, their souls back into their bodies? What did that imply? Especially about the possibilities of ghosts? Dan's brow furrows in thought.

"do you think ghosts are real?" Dan asks, finally, sounding a lot less judgmental than he had just a moment ago.

[narrativefinale]

@fgreene heard crying

Dan is mainly thinking about how he needs to stop crying. Which doesn't actually help him stop. It makes him feel a little worse, in fact. Why can't he stop crying? What's wrong with him? Why is he so pathetic? So on and so forth. He feels sick from crying for so long. He wants to lay down somewhere and go to bed.

Instead he keeps crying, curled up in some back part of the hospital where he's sure no one's going to find him.

[narrativefinale]

@audaciiae saw someone unexpected

He's down in the morgue. Dan doesn't like being down here, but he's here. What stops him from rummaging in one of the drawers is the sound of the door swinging open. Quickly the drawer is shut and he turns on one foot to face whoever has caught him down here.

A pause. His brow furrows in something like surprise.

"uh... hey."

[narrativefinale]

@musecastle was confronted

"you again?" Dan asks, exasperation creeping into his tone despite his attempt of control over it. He glances around quickly, then walks up to Patrick quickly. "unless you plan on getting a job here, you can't keep coming back here to see patients."

[narrativefinale]

@candystealingdemon was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be

The morgue, to be exact. Dan didn't like coming down here. Avoided it as much as he could. But he needed a few things. Just a few things, that was it and then he'd be out of here. He was surprised to find someone else in here, someone he didn't even recognize.

"uh, excuse me, but you can't be in here..." Dan says, almost apologetically, "hospital staff only."

[narrativefinale]

@endless-youth didn't get far in conversation

Dan's been trying to keep up with the conversation. But as it goes on, he's grown more and more pale, more and more jittery. He doesn't look well. He doesn't feel well. If he passes out he hopes he stays out forever, if only to save him the embarrassment of having to try and explain himself when he wakes up.

Dan doesn't pass out. What happens next is actually worse.

"excuse me," he says, suddenly, interrupting Dorian mid-sentence. He mutters something about the bathroom, gets up, walks about two steps before a wave of dizziness overtakes him. His vision swims and the next moment he's half hunched over, losing his lunch on the floor.

[narrativefinale]

@holysln saw someone having one of those nights

It's one of those nights because Daniel Cain misses Herbert West and thinks that's probably about as insane as he can possibly get. Some other shit has gone awry tonight, but Dan isn't thinking about that. He isn't thinking about much of anything but the house collapsing and Herbert being gone and him not going back to look for him.

What could he have done, he tries to rationalize, to no success. He should have tried. Should have done something. He didn't. He didn't do anything. And now here he was. Alone. Sitting on a park bench in the middle of the night and wondering about what maybe might have been.

He puts a hand over his face and leans back with a heavy sigh.