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"Today is his birthday..."
Mar. 13th, 2020 03:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mrhixJason Voorhees sat on the ground in the middle of the Nexus Plaza.
People kept a distance. His rampage not soon forgotten to many and though he did not successfully harm anyone the possibility that his tenacity might bear fruit was enough for people to give him a wide berth.
His Machete, which came with him of course was there and so was Moloch's feather. They both lay in front of him as he sat legs out and looked at them.
His pose not so much that of an adult but a distinctly child-like one. Like a boy playing with his toys.
He knew what day it was and what was expected of him.
He knew the guilty must be punished and that many there deserved it but he needed to pass the force that stopped him doing what Mother last him.
Perhaps that was the most crucial part of his time here.
In his wanderings through this new and frustrating place Jason had not once heard the voice of his Mother.
There were gaps in her commands before but always on this day she would come to him. She would bid him rise again and go about his bloody work.
Yet now there was nothing, no words for her boy, only the din of the wide and wonderful world about him. A world that to his senses was drab and dim without direction.
He had only violence for so many years and now he did not even have that so there he stayed completely motionless. His very presence begging a question.
What do you do when existing is all you have?
People kept a distance. His rampage not soon forgotten to many and though he did not successfully harm anyone the possibility that his tenacity might bear fruit was enough for people to give him a wide berth.
His Machete, which came with him of course was there and so was Moloch's feather. They both lay in front of him as he sat legs out and looked at them.
His pose not so much that of an adult but a distinctly child-like one. Like a boy playing with his toys.
He knew what day it was and what was expected of him.
He knew the guilty must be punished and that many there deserved it but he needed to pass the force that stopped him doing what Mother last him.
Perhaps that was the most crucial part of his time here.
In his wanderings through this new and frustrating place Jason had not once heard the voice of his Mother.
There were gaps in her commands before but always on this day she would come to him. She would bid him rise again and go about his bloody work.
Yet now there was nothing, no words for her boy, only the din of the wide and wonderful world about him. A world that to his senses was drab and dim without direction.
He had only violence for so many years and now he did not even have that so there he stayed completely motionless. His very presence begging a question.
What do you do when existing is all you have?
