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the poison slowly creeps and stops me dead (dark shadows ; roger, laura ; pg-ish idk anymore)
title. the poison slowly creeps and stops me dead.
fandom. dark shadows (burtonverse)
characters/pairing. roger collins, laura collins, ALSO A PRETTY AWESOME ORIGINAL SERIES SHOUTOUT AT THE END.
rating. pg-ish.
warnings/notes. spoilers....? written for roger's application to![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lastvoyages.
There's a family photograph - Roger, Laura, and David as a toddler - sitting on one of the tables in the drawing room. Roger's gotten fairly good at ignoring it in all the times he's gone in there to sulk (and besides, God and Joshua Collins forbid he disturb Elizabeth's family shrine by removing it), but today, it doesn't work. Three sets of eyes in the picture frame seem to stare at him, and Roger swears he can see the faces twitch into just the right amount of disdain.
He swallows hard. He swivels in his chair, toward the window, and more importantly, away from the photograph.
But the image out the window, the waves crashing against the cliffs outside, does nothing to help. There's a boat out there, not much more than a speck on the horizon, and Roger doesn't know what they're doing all the way out there with the storm clouds threatening overhead. But suddenly, it's his boat, and he's on it, and there's a crash and a scream and Laura's overboard, but by the time he gets to her, she's sinking. Nothing but her fingertips are above water and in seconds, those are gone, too.
What happened, Darling? There was a life-preserver. I saw it. Rope, if nothing else.
The photograph's mocking eyes are practically boring holes into the back of the chair and him, and he spins back around. That motion combined with the vision has him out of breath, and his fists slam down on the desk.
"Stop," he says a little too loudly, and his eyes dart toward the door. Dysfunction and legends of vampires he can deal with, but possessed pictures cross the line, and dammit, Laura - if you want to talk to him, you can materialize for him, can't you? Like you do for David, remember?
In a second he bolts out of his chair and slams the picture down with enough force to break the frame, Liz's pride be damned. A moment to catch his breath, and he saunters back over to the desk and kicks his feet up, digging in his breast pocket for a small black address book. Combined with a few glasses of brandy, the lovely ladies in there are sure to solve any problem. He flips it open to a random page and grabs the nearby telephone to dial the number.
"Cassandra? Cassie, hey there, doll. I know, I know. It's been too long. Let me make it up to you, huh?"
fandom. dark shadows (burtonverse)
characters/pairing. roger collins, laura collins, ALSO A PRETTY AWESOME ORIGINAL SERIES SHOUTOUT AT THE END.
rating. pg-ish.
warnings/notes. spoilers....? written for roger's application to
lastvoyages.There's a family photograph - Roger, Laura, and David as a toddler - sitting on one of the tables in the drawing room. Roger's gotten fairly good at ignoring it in all the times he's gone in there to sulk (and besides, God and Joshua Collins forbid he disturb Elizabeth's family shrine by removing it), but today, it doesn't work. Three sets of eyes in the picture frame seem to stare at him, and Roger swears he can see the faces twitch into just the right amount of disdain.
He swallows hard. He swivels in his chair, toward the window, and more importantly, away from the photograph.
But the image out the window, the waves crashing against the cliffs outside, does nothing to help. There's a boat out there, not much more than a speck on the horizon, and Roger doesn't know what they're doing all the way out there with the storm clouds threatening overhead. But suddenly, it's his boat, and he's on it, and there's a crash and a scream and Laura's overboard, but by the time he gets to her, she's sinking. Nothing but her fingertips are above water and in seconds, those are gone, too.
What happened, Darling? There was a life-preserver. I saw it. Rope, if nothing else.
The photograph's mocking eyes are practically boring holes into the back of the chair and him, and he spins back around. That motion combined with the vision has him out of breath, and his fists slam down on the desk.
"Stop," he says a little too loudly, and his eyes dart toward the door. Dysfunction and legends of vampires he can deal with, but possessed pictures cross the line, and dammit, Laura - if you want to talk to him, you can materialize for him, can't you? Like you do for David, remember?
In a second he bolts out of his chair and slams the picture down with enough force to break the frame, Liz's pride be damned. A moment to catch his breath, and he saunters back over to the desk and kicks his feet up, digging in his breast pocket for a small black address book. Combined with a few glasses of brandy, the lovely ladies in there are sure to solve any problem. He flips it open to a random page and grabs the nearby telephone to dial the number.
"Cassandra? Cassie, hey there, doll. I know, I know. It's been too long. Let me make it up to you, huh?"