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31_days2005-09-05 10:58 pm
of-carabas.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-05 10:58 pm
[September 5] [Near Dark] A Thousand Miles (2/26)
Title: A Thousand Miles (2/26)
Day/Theme: September 5th/A winter morning just like any other
Series: Near Dark
Character/Pairing: Severen
Rating: PG13
Severen wasn't from Chicago originally. His hometown was further downriver, a small place most folks hadn't heard of; a church, a general store, a few farms. In the years since, he'd forgotten the name. It wasn't a place he'd ever been attached to (or so he claimed, though Diamondback figured he was lying, from the look on his face last time they passed through that part of the world). His home, as much as he'd ever had a home, was the one he'd made for himself in Chicago, and even that wasn't worth shit. Still, it was a hell of a lot better than the middle-o-nowhere he'd grown up in.
The big city was full of life, full of opportunity, that's what he'd always been told. And if by 'full of life' they'd meant 'noisy and crowded as hell' then they'd been right; the city was a shock to the system for a country boy, but luckily for Severen, he liked that. The thunder of the railroads, the reek of the stockyards, the smoke of the factories - Chicago was a monster, roaring its fury at the world.
Yeah, as homes went, Severen figured Chicago was the closest thing to a fit he'd find on this earth. So he liked that, even though it wasn't his birthplace, Chicago was at least the place of his rebirth, of sorts. The last sunrise Severen could have watched without flinching was on a Saturday. It was October 7th, 1871, and it was probably a spectacular sunrise, full of vivid colors and striking... he didn't know, clouds maybe, or whatever the hell it was that people liked about sunrises; it was hard for him to remember the appeal. It didn't matter anyway, as he'd slept right through that October 7th sunrise, and most of the sunrises before that.
If pressed, Severen would guess that the last sunrise he ever actually watched had been a few months earlier. New Year's day, as a matter of fact. And he'd been watching it from the wrong side, keeping odd hours even before nature made it a requirement. He'd stumbled out from the pub with the rest of the boys, blinking in the pre-dawn light, and he remembered that what really hit him then had been not the light itself, but the way it caught the snow. Fresh fallen - there'd been a storm during the night, only clearing in the early hours. And white, still.
If he'd ever missed that small town downriver, it had been during those winters, when the snow laid over Chicago like a pure white blanket that, more often than not, would be churned into dirty brown slush before he so much as opened his eyes. That wasn't real snow. Real snow, the kind you got out in the country, it stayed pure, stayed clean, something untouched by human hands for miles. The whole world crystalized.
It was a trade-off: he could have the cool, clean air, the rushing winds, the peace of standing under the stars and feeling like he could be the only person around for miles, yet knowing he still had a family waiting for him at the end of those miles. Or he could have the rush of life, the buzz of the city, a glorious shock to the system that never ended.
Or then again, he discovered when Jesse hitched his way into town, he could have both.
Day/Theme: September 5th/A winter morning just like any other
Series: Near Dark
Character/Pairing: Severen
Rating: PG13
Severen wasn't from Chicago originally. His hometown was further downriver, a small place most folks hadn't heard of; a church, a general store, a few farms. In the years since, he'd forgotten the name. It wasn't a place he'd ever been attached to (or so he claimed, though Diamondback figured he was lying, from the look on his face last time they passed through that part of the world). His home, as much as he'd ever had a home, was the one he'd made for himself in Chicago, and even that wasn't worth shit. Still, it was a hell of a lot better than the middle-o-nowhere he'd grown up in.
The big city was full of life, full of opportunity, that's what he'd always been told. And if by 'full of life' they'd meant 'noisy and crowded as hell' then they'd been right; the city was a shock to the system for a country boy, but luckily for Severen, he liked that. The thunder of the railroads, the reek of the stockyards, the smoke of the factories - Chicago was a monster, roaring its fury at the world.
Yeah, as homes went, Severen figured Chicago was the closest thing to a fit he'd find on this earth. So he liked that, even though it wasn't his birthplace, Chicago was at least the place of his rebirth, of sorts. The last sunrise Severen could have watched without flinching was on a Saturday. It was October 7th, 1871, and it was probably a spectacular sunrise, full of vivid colors and striking... he didn't know, clouds maybe, or whatever the hell it was that people liked about sunrises; it was hard for him to remember the appeal. It didn't matter anyway, as he'd slept right through that October 7th sunrise, and most of the sunrises before that.
If pressed, Severen would guess that the last sunrise he ever actually watched had been a few months earlier. New Year's day, as a matter of fact. And he'd been watching it from the wrong side, keeping odd hours even before nature made it a requirement. He'd stumbled out from the pub with the rest of the boys, blinking in the pre-dawn light, and he remembered that what really hit him then had been not the light itself, but the way it caught the snow. Fresh fallen - there'd been a storm during the night, only clearing in the early hours. And white, still.
If he'd ever missed that small town downriver, it had been during those winters, when the snow laid over Chicago like a pure white blanket that, more often than not, would be churned into dirty brown slush before he so much as opened his eyes. That wasn't real snow. Real snow, the kind you got out in the country, it stayed pure, stayed clean, something untouched by human hands for miles. The whole world crystalized.
It was a trade-off: he could have the cool, clean air, the rushing winds, the peace of standing under the stars and feeling like he could be the only person around for miles, yet knowing he still had a family waiting for him at the end of those miles. Or he could have the rush of life, the buzz of the city, a glorious shock to the system that never ended.
Or then again, he discovered when Jesse hitched his way into town, he could have both.