rockymountaindie | ic inbox (balance)

[ 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.

Then what is it?

[ This is said with all the vindictive joy of a cat who's just found a stuffed mouse and baps it. Only once, but once is enough. ]

[ If he looks up he dies, if he looks up he dies, he can feel the ice in his blood why is this happening-- ]

H-- hh- s- [ Tongue-tied, slowly, slowly gazing up, wracking his brain to remember every conversation- ]

I. I don't know?

[ can i get an f in the chat ]

[ F

The mouse gets bapped in the other direction. ] Lion's been doing better. Still a bit messed up after the... everything. My fault entirely. Though you should probably follow up after... that. Might do you both some good.

[ motherfucker didn't use a single pronoun ]

[ Is he

Is he being fucked with. Is Will fucking with him. This is a hospital, Will, and you're fucking with him-

Alex clears his throat and rolls one very stiff shoulder, deciding it's best to steer away from this conversation if he wants to have any sort of... Does he want catharsis? Eh. Jury's out. ]

H- uh. You- you hear about that...then? [ He's still in the throes of panic, so he doesn't dive right back down to the self-deprecation station quite yet, but. ] I just...kinda wanted... You know. Give some space, after I...exploded. Everywhere.

[ The only rule is you're not supposed to fuck with the patients, and Alex is a visitor. Tank can fight him. He's allowed to escape. For now. Lion is totally getting a replay of this mentally texted. They've had a bad month. Picking on someone who's stuck on a gender binary would be hilarious.

But that's later. For now, there's just a short noncommital noise of agreement, buying time to consider words. ] Not full details. Figured you wanted your privacy. But I know... [ About The Illusion. ] Enough.

[ He doesn't get the time to fret about it, nor spiral into depression, before he's emotionally kneecapped with a shotgun. ]

Which is an invasion of privacy. If you want to leave, I'll drop it ever happened. Delete the records, if you'd like.

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