Me. Me. Save me. Save us. Me. Me you have to help. Help. I am going to kill ourselves and then what will happen to us. Me. Help.
Hendrick you can't just send me 'Me. Me. Help.' like that. My heart was already racing and now it's doing something entirely undignified.
Amelia's out. She's out. We are so beautifully, catastrophically fucked, Hendrick.
Here I am clutching your hands whispering 'we're going to die' while picturing her turning us into matching decorative specimens. If we kill ourselves first, she'll probably just prop us up in the lab holding hands. Romantic. Horrifying. Very us.
Please tell me you're safe. Tell me you're panicking in that stupidly charming way of yours so I can pretend I'm only worried because I need you alive for reasons practical... and not because the thought of anything happening to you makes me want to burn this entire facility down myself. @eastermans-drafts
I took a dose of lsd only to vomit profusely all over my desk. This is the most awful feeling I’ve ever experienced. And the worst part is, my dear Hendrick, we only have ourselves to blame. It was a foolish mistake to keep her alive, it was like… man thinking he can stop death. We held her with all the conviction and certainty of Franklin setting course for the North Pole. All the preparation in the world cannot divide a man from his own destruction. We should have put a bullet in her the minute we were done displaying her. No, three.
We must think. The reagents, they always beg us for favors. What price can we put on her head to guarantee a swift return? What do they want most?
What do we want most? What do you want? What do I want?
Will you hold me and tell me it isn’t my fault?
WHAT IS GOING ON IN THIS FACILITY
Get out of my beautiful office I’m talking to my me
