day one | recreation room.please spare us nurse ratched
[ Clarice tried to slow her breathing, tried to clear her mind, tried to quell the rising panic as she submerged the particular last memories to come to mind... Did her best to recall Jack's advice, Crawford's crisis training and some of the better tips from their personal conversations while they both progressed the search for Katherine Martin. ]
You aren't there right now. You're here. And wherever here is it won't do you any good to getting back to work if you can't think straight. Girl, get your shit together.
[ She heard the latter in the accent of her best friend, Ardelia Mapp. She needed Ardelia right now more than anyone else she had ever relied on.
This message... What did it mean? 'Your memories are real.' She wasn't sure if that was more alarming or comforting right now. 'There are others.' Other patients? Obviously. Did it mean others with memories? Because in a sanitarium that wasn't the most reassuring prospect. 'Don't believe their lies.' Did this mean the lies of the staff, convincing her she flew the nest, so to speak, or that her memories themselves weren't real?
...Great. So she was either truly insane, which was unlikely because she had never had this vision before, or she was being held captive. She chose the second, because she was a controversial special agent, or at least, a trainee, if she ever managed to graduate now. The idea of being captured to be part of a sick experiment didn't appeal to vanity as much as it seemed reasonable in her world.
Funny how even in crisis, her work ethic got the better of her.
She wondered what Dr. Lecter would think, seeing her here like this. ]
"This is some sort of twisted joke."
[ She muttered to herself. Maybe he would be one of the staff. He had escaped, after all. Did this have anything to do with him? Should she have listened to her friend's concerned, and not brushed off worry on some misguided belief that she understood the good doctor better than others who had tried?
Was she wrong in believing he would not have called on her, simply because despite her attempt to swindle him for information, she was not Dr. Chilton always forthcoming and interesting?
Her mind grasped for something reasonable to latch onto, uncharacteristically oblivious to the other patients moving about the rec room. ]
Clarice | The Silence of the Lambs | OTA
please spare us nurse ratched[ Clarice tried to slow her breathing, tried to clear her mind, tried to quell the rising panic as she submerged the particular last memories to come to mind... Did her best to recall Jack's advice, Crawford's crisis training and some of the better tips from their personal conversations while they both progressed the search for Katherine Martin. ]
You aren't there right now. You're here. And wherever here is it won't do you any good to getting back to work if you can't think straight. Girl, get your shit together.
[ She heard the latter in the accent of her best friend, Ardelia Mapp. She needed Ardelia right now more than anyone else she had ever relied on.
This message... What did it mean? 'Your memories are real.' She wasn't sure if that was more alarming or comforting right now. 'There are others.' Other patients? Obviously. Did it mean others with memories? Because in a sanitarium that wasn't the most reassuring prospect. 'Don't believe their lies.' Did this mean the lies of the staff, convincing her she flew the nest, so to speak, or that her memories themselves weren't real?
...Great. So she was either truly insane, which was unlikely because she had never had this vision before, or she was being held captive. She chose the second, because she was a controversial special agent, or at least, a trainee, if she ever managed to graduate now. The idea of being captured to be part of a sick experiment didn't appeal to vanity as much as it seemed reasonable in her world.
Funny how even in crisis, her work ethic got the better of her.
She wondered what Dr. Lecter would think, seeing her here like this. ]
"This is some sort of twisted joke."
[ She muttered to herself. Maybe he would be one of the staff. He had escaped, after all. Did this have anything to do with him? Should she have listened to her friend's concerned, and not brushed off worry on some misguided belief that she understood the good doctor better than others who had tried?
Was she wrong in believing he would not have called on her, simply because despite her attempt to swindle him for information, she was
not Dr. Chiltonalways forthcoming and interesting?Her mind grasped for something reasonable to latch onto, uncharacteristically oblivious to the other patients moving about the rec room. ]