The actor is here. Isaac feels the strangest sense descend over him, a sort of detachment of his own, like he's not even here anymore. He's not afraid. How can he be afraid? He knew this was coming. He knew. It's a gift, the chance to come to grips with what's about to happen, to be able to face it with dignity. Dignity is about all he has. He's done so much, he's committed so many sins. There's no telling if there is any forgiveness on the other side, but he's asked for as much of it as he can.
"You're late," Isaac finally says, turning to look at the man who is Death to him, studying him with an artist's eye. Strong brows and a wicked sort of smirk to his mouth even when he's not smirking at all, and intense, glittering eyes. Just the way he painted him. Perfect. He's done him justice.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-10 03:34 am (UTC)"You're late," Isaac finally says, turning to look at the man who is Death to him, studying him with an artist's eye. Strong brows and a wicked sort of smirk to his mouth even when he's not smirking at all, and intense, glittering eyes. Just the way he painted him. Perfect. He's done him justice.