rockymountaindie | ic inbox (balance)

Let me try that again.

[ But not immediately. There's a long period of silence on the line: ambient pops and crackles of a mic too low, the occasional beep of a heart monitor or the footsteps of a patrol. Long enough where you'd think he'd just hang up. The entire thing's a mess. ]

...Don't like mine either. Three more days an' I'll get by with no one noticing. Not the same reasons, but celebrating on a day I find worthless is just... Why care about something worthless, right? Not the point. I know it was Wonderland, or that- Raven Queen getting in your head, making it worse, but...

[ Breathe in. Breathe out. No more second-guessing. And the voice is an unmoving lake, all calm certainty with no disruptions. ]

I couldn't speak last time. So I'll say what I was going to.

[ Even then, there's still a minute between this and the follow-up call. An attempt to gather scattered thoughts into something coherent. ]

This is... a really light summary. Before... let's say before meeting Lion. You know the gist of my job. No need to go into details. All you need to know is the nickname for me was 'Heartless Monster.' And... I was. Name's even putting it lightly. I was extremely good at my duties. Still treated as some sorta paragon for it. ...But I found out the extent of what my work did to people. Saw someone else suffer the same thing I put others through. So I forced myself into a nervous breakdown and rewrote my personality from the fragments left over.

[ Holy shit what??? How is that a light summary??? But it's a message, so Alex's horror doesn't matter. ]

Point is, I know what it's like to question your whole life. See something you didn't want to, puts a new context on things, an' suddenly you're worse than trash. Subhuman Furniture, right? Even a desk has more value. 'Least the desk doesn't complain all the time. ...Maybe I would've been happier not knowing anything. Continue thinking nothing was wrong. Not second-guessing everything I've ever done.

Quitting my job is Heresy. If my old coworkers ever find me, I'll probably be executed. But... If I ever got the same choice again, I'd take it every time. I am sick of sob stories, Alex. And every-

[ Over time, the voice goes from calm to tense to two seconds away from having a neurotic meltdown. But the last word chokes into a hiss, a quiet 'shit' overridden by someone in the hallway talking about no noise after lights out. Will manages to bite out 'stop recording' right as the door opens.

The call dies. ]

[ Ten minutes later the voice is infinitely quieter, but infinitely more smug. ] Should be free of interruptions for a bit.

Everyone focuses so hard on the negatives. My workplace treats all humans as sinners. Observers only want to read dramas and emotional thrillers where everyone's miserable. Even in human memories, you recall negative ones far better than positive ones. Death and misery everywhere, s'all you focus on... Even you. Sure, might've been whatever hit you, but you think you made a mistake because you didn't die at the right time. Tried to help people. Disturbing the proper balance or whatever.

[ And he's an angel, which means it's probably going to be some follow-up about how the afterlife is going to be better and God loves you. ]

So why does it matter? To hell with the balance.

[ And somewhere every other angel spits out their tea. ] Whether tomorrow or fifty years from now, you're going to die. That's just what mortality means. To deny that inevitability is to give up your soul. But if it's inevitable, why not enjoy your life in the meantime?

[ A bit of the focus ebbs away. Still Certain, definitely, but the thread of thought is unraveling. A voice like waves receding. ]

I... picked it up from you. ...Humans in general.

I used to think your lives were pointless. Less than a century compared to the infinite that lies after. Makes all your struggles insignificant. But... It's- You put so much of yourselves into it. Even when- Especially when you know it's pointless. Made no damn sense for the longest time, but after I broke, it... Suddenly it clicked. None of it mattered, but it wasn't pointless. It was everything behind it all. The-Your emotions, your hopes, that drive to keep- just keep doing. It's.

[ The voice cuts off, but the feeling behind it sounds like Alex's own voice when he talks about Clear. It's priceless. Beyond any words or attempt at description. It's beautiful. ]

You thought-think-whatever, that what you did was wrong- the whole dodging death thing, and you were stringing people along. False hopes and that. But to me you were faced with inevitability and told it to come back later. Do you know how insane that is? The fact you did it at all is breath-taking- and you did it for two years, every day, giving hope to people in a hopeless situation. I Wish there were more people like you in the world, Alex. I-

I- give me a moment.

[ He's unraveling. Gotta stay on point here. Give it a minute. Take a breath. Rewind. ]

[ And try again. ]

I died a few months after I decided to change. But I think those few months telling inevitability to go to hell was worth more than my thousand years of life before it.

...I'm sure now you're beating yourself up for being a weird cultist instead'a the whole death dodging thing now. Anyone can tell you got messed in the head. But what you did, with- what Clear did for you - nothing of that was a mistake. There's nothing wrong with saying 'not yet' to things. It's... hard. Keep forgetting it myself some days. But to find that type of willpower to change fate is inspiring, Alex. I'm sure it's what Clear saw in you too.

You won't listen, but-

[ A door slams open. It's too far away to make out most of the voice, but they're angry enough to have that get through just fine. Will makes it worse with only a short moment of silence, Oh Shit given form, before snapping at whoever-it-is to get lost. The rest after is kind of a mess. 'Get off the call' 'Make me' 'Stop bothering ot-' 'Don't say stop-' '-her patients!'

Faerun-Offbrand Microsoft Mary quips in with 'Stop Recording' and shuts the line off. ]

[ It's ten minutes, maybe more, before the last one comes in. A text. Small and simple and full of abject despair. ]

He put me on sedatives.

[ It's not pouting if it's just on text. Tank is a godless nightmare deity in flesh suit. ]

Was almost done anwyay.
Anyway.
dammit not the point

Try not to be so hard on yourself.

[ He probably won't listen. It's pointless. But the Everything behind the words isn't. Even if it's an infinitesimally small chance that he will, then it's worth it. There's a lot more time spent wondering how to kill the conversation. 'Good night' feels too dismissive considering the rest. 'I hope next month goes better for you' is completely stupid because of course it's going to be better it's not fucking wonderland. Instead, it settles for one last admittance, the smallest honesty. ]

Sorry for the trouble.

[ The username wright signs off, and nothing follows. ]

[ Since Wonderland, Alex has...continued to have one hell of a time. It's not in the same way, no. But he's been recovering his Self, picking through the last weeks in horror. Haunted by the memories of the disastrous attempt to distract Adrian, and the results of being the last of the group left standing. And, of course...

Well. His own encounter with death. Again.

It's probably a miracle that he was sleeping and stayed sleeping, through all this. If you worry yourself sick and tired, eventually you're going to collapse, and that's basically how he's been living. The nightmares, the scars from Wonderland- they're graciously absent for a single night. And Alex rests, while Will pours his heart out and divulges so much that he's has wondered about and puts to words so many feelings that've been nebulously festering inside him, for so long.

He wakes early. He spies the new message alerts.

And he has to freeze and stop after the first one.

Why didn't he think, if Lion had heard them, that they would just be gone? Why did he think once those messages were sent they'd be lost to the void? He stands, he quickly excuses himself from his room, he tries to keep down a building panic attack.

A message. Clumsy, sloppy. ]

can I come over?

[ Will was sedated. And these were sent at...early, rather early in the morning. So, it's only right that Alex not barge in first thing. What this leads to is he's more-or-less pacing right the med center, until Dr. Tank pokes his head out and literally drags him into the med center. Recently recovered from death, what is he doing just lingering out there, come in, stop walking-- Dr. Tank suffers so much.

And he stands outside Will's room- segment, whatever- in the med center but nonetheless still feeling his skin shiver on his bones, waiting for a response and not...just going in, to wake him up.

He's not sure, quite how to feel. Other than staring at the wall, blankly. ]

[ The first few days were terrible - hooked up to too many machines, unable to breathe, no way to translate what time or place or Plane it was - to the point where Tank's probably shoo'd Alex off multiple times. But it's been- some. Amount- of days since then and Tank is some kind of miracle wizard. The only problem left is whatever the hell is wrong with his leg and being absolute garbage at measuring time, and neither of those come across in phone recordings. This entire paragraph is relevant if only because waking up from sedation is even worse. Only sleeps three hours normally, and that nightmare being of a doctor forced him into eight.

Worse is that, muffled but still audible through Alex's vigil of the door, every five minutes gets an obnoxious robotic voice.

"You have. One. New message!"

Can he cut his arm off? Or at least get a better bracer? It's useful at times like this, but please, Silvanus, Lord, Lucretia, someone invent a fucking mute button. He can't hear the 'play message' as a response, but Alex will know when he's woken up, because the accursed voice of Microsoft Mary says something different this time.

"First message. From username: Jay. Dee. Eee. Enn. Vee. Ay-ch. Eight. Are. Eighty-two. Can eye come over?"

Shit. He probably looks like a mess. Not on the oxygen but still on the morphine, and it's been, what, ten days since he sent those messages? Wait- that's wrong- Mia's gift still sits on the side table, a no-nonsense digital clock, reading 12:37pm, October 12th. Okay, a little under eight hours. Readjust, hide evidence, continue. 'Response field: yes. Send message.' 'Message has been sent! What w-' 'Turn off.' 'Bye bye.'

At the exact same time, Alex's own bracer goes off with a text. Any sense of movement in the room goes dead silent at the noise. As one small positive, at least it doesn't start going off in the worst text-to-speech imaginable. ]

Yes.

[ Permission to barge in immediately and jumpscare him granted. ]

[ Alex had actually been in the med bay for a bit. He just hadn’t really gotten to see or talk to Will, which has been a source of anxiety, even before the response. Will’s recovering. Should he not have sent that? Should he have left him to his rest? All at once he’s second-guessing, how could he spend so much time not considering—

A faint noise through the door. That stupid automated voice, oh fuck hid username must be a nightmare, no wonder he got annoyed at the endless spam, and then a ding-

The deep cold out in his stomach dissolves and he throws caution and consideration to the wind. ]

Will! [ A rotting leg, mixes of glass, what’s he going to look like- ] Will, I...

[ Did he give thought on what to say? Yeah. Does that mean he can connect his brain to his mouth? Hell no. ]

[ Jesus tapdancing christ, missing concept of time or not that was immediate. The only additional noise is the sound of someone getting spooked enough to drop a remote to the floor.

Despite Alex's attempts to rile himself into a viscera-flavored panic attack, there's none of that here. The right arm is snaked through a series of wires - IVs, monitors, a controller for something - but aside from that, he only looks Tired. No glass, no exposed rotting legs, no sudden organs or shrapnel flying in all directions. The most horror thing available for this sad boy to flip over is the fact that a T-shirt means where the metal arm fuses into bicep is visible.

Wait, that's a lie. The most thing available is the blank stare he's getting, somewhat similar to an owner who came home and found all of their cats in a cheerleader pyramid. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? ]

...Hey?

[ Please say hallucinations didn't get added to his list of symptoms, he doesn't wanna be stuck here forever aaaaaa-]

[ Really, it’s only natural that Alex is this panicked. That’s his default state, after all, and after getting his head messed with not once but twice, he’s pretty ready to be back to some kind of normal. The whole headshot thing only furthered that.

But... There we are. Fine. A normal exhausted look from a man who’s been spending his nights and days in recovery, metal arm notwithstanding. But he knew about that, didn’t he? His quick, short gasps of breath slow to something more even as he takes the sight of it all in. ]

...You’re okay.

[ He's not sure if 'okay' is the right word to use. Might still need to evolve into a double-amputee, still on morphine to function, high chance the scrambling from Whatever Happened is permanent. One of these alone doesn't count; all three combined is a total loss.

But Alex looks like a wreck. Twenty wrecks. It's his usual panicked default state, but with this extra Ultra-Panic layered on top, like he expected to walk in on one more thing going wrong in his life. Or maybe that's just his natural state. Either way, he's not being another weight on top of the kid's shoulders. But lying, while possible, still feels viscerally wrong. Not a problem. Optimistic half-truths are always available for use. ]

I'm like a cockroach. Need more than that to kill me.

[ It’s an exaggeration. He knows that. But Will’s far from the stationary sculpture he once was, and the very unfortunate-looking leg he’d caught a glimpse of before hasn’t made a reappearance. So okay is relative, it seems.

He lets the door close behind him, caring not to brush it all off, as he’s...beyond exhausted. Still, he’s not about to start bawling in front of him, so the moment he feels his eyes start to prick, he quickly and roughly rubs his hand across them. It trembles a little, but at least he can feel it. ]

I- I thought- ...I was real worried, Will.

[ Wow.

What a good soft nerd. He can catch the faintest ghost of an appreciative smile, but it wipes away. No need to call him out. Alex can take the few seconds to compose himself as Will looks away, clearly just to make sure he's gesturing at the proper object. Yes. ] Yeah yeah, everyone is. Maya left so the bed's yours. Means you don't have to sit in the crap chairs. Just grab what I dropped first.

[ Upon hearing Maya's name, Alex looks back up, dropping his arm. His eyes travel to the bed. ]

She's up and awake. [ He knows this, but he can't help but say it, with a relieved sigh. ] Was worried about her, too. ...'bout everyone, just about.

[ He grabs the remote and twirls it in his hand for a moment, before stopping abruptly, as it'll likely slip from his fingers, if he keeps going. Sets it down on Will's bed. There's no harm in taking the bed. At least not until Dr. Tank bothers him, but hopefully that won't be for awhile. He's not exactly a fan of hospitals? Not that this is a proper one, still. But, you know. The beds are nice.

The hell does he say. How does he start this. It comes back to that. ]

Edited (because SOME OF US have our MINDS IN THE GUTTER) 2019-10-09 04:33 (UTC)

[ Yeah, she's awake. But there's a dim silence here. Attention goes inward, then aside, to where there's normally a constant opening for conversation, but now is only a lifeless matte black. A turned off computer monitor. Would've been out so much sooner, but she needs her space. She's fine. Physically. But there are so many other problems that place made. Lion, Alex, Mia, Shinjiro, Michael, Eleanor; God only knows how Sayori and Shuichi were handling the aftermath even. The corpses have it easy.

It's a bit miraculous to watch in person. There's a visible moment after his comment where Alex can almost see that black mist again. A weight strong enough to send people off to insanity or despair. But all it takes is one long breath in and out for it to be rallied against. The desire for surrender goes in and out, once, a single tide, but doesn't come back. ]

Look after her. If you can. ...Yggdrasil got both of us, but she got hit worse.

[ And honestly, just go lock the door. Tank can yeet himself off the moonbase for all he cares. The remote is used only to adjust to a better sitting position for conversations. Not as bad as the first few days, mere knives digging through nerves instead of impaling. Barely reads past the painkillers. Alex can appreciate this short time for what it is: a moment of peace.

Before the :beegun: emote. ]

I assume you're here to talk about the messages.

'Course I'll--

[ And then Will just comes for his life. Alex coughs, looking away starkly and grimacing. ]

I- I was-

[ No longer making eye contact, at all. ]

...I was gonna get to it eventually.

Take your time. I'll age another thousand years.

[ There's your proof he's fine Alex: he's being a total asshole again. ]

[ And he doesn't immediately retort, despite that. Which is a little weird, but hey, Wonderland was a lot for everyone, right?

He starts soft and carefully. ] I... Could you hear all that? Before?

[ For a moment, almost, looking back on it is like falling back into it again. The unending darkness of a Piece Retired, left outside a gameboard for eternity. His vessel was damaged. Is. Then he was free of it, then back inside, and over and over and who's to say it can't happen again.

Two weeks then. And it takes another two weeks to shake it off again, remember there's a question. ] Yes. Stopped using it around- [ The exact time comes back as sand. ] Not important. Input still worked. Output wasn't worth the effort.

[ Alex feels his throat tighten. So, not only did he alert Lion to all that, he bombarded someone who was a prisoner in their own body with all of his...everything. ]

I really... I wouldn't've done it, if I knew. I wasn't thinking. Sorry.

[ And now he's using it as an excuse to beat himself up for being a person with emotions who needs help sometimes. There's a moment of silence, measuring words and intent and results against a single Person, before the answer is obvious. That Name is gone. As is the responsibility that comes with it.

All thoughts of results are tossed aside. Already went a little too far into honesty once, may as well just go all in. Heart to Heart. ]

Glad you did. It's not wrong to ask for help sometimes. Wasn't me, but at least someone was able to answer.

[ Still, Alex doesn't look, hands gripping his knees tight. ]

Yeah, Lion really- how, uh- how's- [ ...A brief pause, as Alex realizes he's known Lion for months, had a big, very emotionally intimate moment and everything, but doesn't- he can't place a pronoun, and it's a little distracting.

Will is Lion's... Lion's person. Taking a pause is bad. ] -'s Lion doing? [ His voice cracks. ] I- haven't gotten the chance to really, ya know, talk, since we, uh. We got back.

[ You know. Normally, he'd answer. He's chronologically challenged, not blind. His voice wavers, spirals off into guilt, has to cling to himself to maintain appearances. There's many ways to try and handle the slow suffocation of Depression. Give them space, be supportive, get down on their level to try and save them from drowning.

Another less-used method, is to kick out the chair they're sitting on. Disrupt the feedback loop of negativity with something else. ]

You sure like repeating the brat's name. You forget pronouns exist?

[ Oh no. Oh God. Oh no, mystery sniper come and kill him again- ]

N- no! No, I- I didn't. I didn't.

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