Doc Destructo

Mon/Fri - Canine is About

Added 2020-12-15 19:24:44 +0000 UTC

Seriously, he is.

Point of it all was, he wasn’t a wrack in a pen or some superpowered pig in a battlesuit any more. Whatever he saw in himself now, whatever conflict of self assuredness and anger that made him feel like a perpetually half-finished project, it wasn’t anything so pathetic or hateable. Even if he couldn’t shake the feeling he was walking a road that didn’t have a way back for him, he at least had a choice in an outfit for the trip.

At least he could show That Motherfucker what he actually looked like.

Depression and anxiety is a heady mixture, especially when you throw in "chip-on-shoulder aggressiveness" into the cocktail as a bitter, for a little depth of flavor. It has a way of making you feel like less than a person overall, and after holding you in that headspace for a long time, you can come away feeling more like an object in a drawer, for someone else to use. But even bound up in that level of bulletproof, stab-resisting ennui, sometimes a strange light can break through: that yes, you may be an inanimate object in a drawer, but you're hard, and sturdy, and you can easily break someone's skull if swung with proper force.

This is where Van is at right now. He's not sure of his self worth, his value to a community or even if he deserves to be alive for the things he's done in his life, and we're going to learn more about what Brian had him get up to, just to further elaborate on why that trauma runs so deep. But all the same, he's certain he's also what a man like Brian Charles Grafton deserves: a high-tech hell-Frankenstein and a torch-and-pitchfork mob in one body, ready to drag his covertly evil ass across hot concrete, bloodied, battered, toothless and drooling, before flinging him, screaming, into the light of the public eye.

Stay tuned.

-G