apocalypsehowcomm | LOG: and if you go chasing rabbits... [open]

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LOG: and if you go chasing rabbits... [open]

Who: Jeff & OPEN
When: September 1 - 24
Where: Around town, notably the (former) circus grounds.
Summary: Jeff has a lot of feelings about things in mirrors and has a bit of a prolonged meltdown.
Warnings: Hallucinations, warped perceptions, past demonic possession, brief mentions of drugs (no active drug use)

0. WHEN LOGIC AND PROPORTION HAVE FALLEN SLOPPY DEAD (prelude)

(click here for backstory tl;dr)

Jeff's used to mirrors lying to him.

It started out subtle, just a little something living in the corner of his eye. A flash, gone in a blink. Trick of the light. His mind playing games. He used to take it as a sign that he needed to sleep, like, really properly sleep, and maybe lay off the coke for a bit.

One day, that little something became a figure, standing just behind him, reaching for him. He could never figure out its face, though he knew it had one. Maybe he forgot what it looked like as soon as he looked away. Or maybe its features just defied every single descriptor he could think of. Didn't matter, really, because any time he tried to focus on the figure, he couldn't. And if he turned around, and looked over his shoulder, it wouldn't be there, anyway.

Sometimes, the figures would multiply. Sometimes, he'd see them in other people, if that makes any sense? Like if he stared too long into a barback mirror, the world inside the reflection would just slooooow down and come to a stop. There would be life and noise all around him, but not in the mirror. In the mirror, they would all stop, their eyes on him, their hands reaching out. Jeff Calhoun, the center of some imaginary fucking universe.

Every day, it felt like the disconnect between this world and that would just get bigger, and bigger. Eventually, his own reflection started to come loose. Usually it tried to behave like it should, though sometimes it would be a touch too slow, or too fast, or move the wrong finger, blink while his eyes were still open, shit like that. On really bad days, it was Peter Pan's shadow, doing its own fucking thing.

By then, his head was already so fucked, well beyond the mirrors. It was normal for Jeff to see things, hear things, lose sight of what was real and what was a dream, because the boundaries were going all fuzzy anyway. He'd long since learned that it was all Ziggy's doing, once he learned what Ziggy was and that Ziggy was even a part of him in the first place. Cut him some slack; he never had any experience with possession before. Come to think of it, neither had Ziggy.

The point is...

The point is his life had become a kaleidoscope of nonsense, fractal nightmares, impossible music, you get the drift. It was terrifying-- of course it was-- and every day he wished for life to go back to normal and then one day it did. One day, he woke up in Gloucester, Massachusetts, and the year was 2021. Everything snapped back into focus, and reality was unified and consistent again. His head was quiet (empty, lonely), and Ziggy was gone. Jeff was alone.

And that's when he realized he'd grown used to having a demon in his head, and nothing-- nothing-- prepared him for the day when it would be gone.

I. AND THE WHITE KNIGHT IS TALKING BACKWARDS (various locations)

When the mirrors in Gloucester start lying, Jeff feels a sick sort of anticipation bloom inside of him. It's a familiar horror, and the dread that jumps up in his throat when he sees something standing behind him feels kind of like home. Jeff doesn't cover any mirrors, no matter how many memos the ADI sends out. Instead, he watches them, so fixated on the delusions reflected back that he won't even realize it's been an hour or two and his head's spinning and his thoughts are fuzzy, and he needs to step outside.

He always comes back to the reflections, though. He starts to seek the madness out, chase it wherever he can. That's when others might notice Jeff acting off-- well, he's always a little off, sure, but there's an obsessive, occasionally explosive quality to it now, and it definitely doesn't come naturally to him.

Maybe you find him standing at a shop window (or at a sink at Bonnie's, or, really, anywhere with mirrors or glass), looking at the distortions in the glass with some kind of longing. He reaches out to his own reflection (he's the figure now, the one from his old delusions, reaching out to touch a world on the other side) and he's singing softly, some nonsense tune to a song that doesn't exist, trying to discern something. Those who are magically inclined might notice he isn't just singing, he's casting some kind of spell. It's nothing harmful. He just wants to make contact with... whatever it is.

II. AND THE RED QUEEN'S OFF WITH HER HEAD (various locations)

Later in the month, when he realizes it's just an echo, a fucking shade, an afterthought, ripples from something long gone, he only doubles down on his obsession. Like maybe, if he chases the distortions to their source, he can find whatever it is he's searching for. He thinks he makes some progress when he starts losing his fucking mind, seeing things well after looking away from the mirrors. He likes to imagine the distortions from the mirror are stepping out from the other side, following him, and maybe, maybe one of them will be something wild and obsessive and lyrical and they'll find each other and he won't be so fucking alone anymore.

That's when people might catch Jeff out on the streets of Gloucester, all bubbly, giddy hysteria, laughing at some joke nobody else is privy to. When he isn't laughing, he's having an argument with nobody, screaming hoarsely, "Fucking come out already, you fuck!" Sometimes he pounds his fists on shop windows, trying to goad something to come out. Most people think he's just a tweaker, some crazy street kid on some cocktail of drugs, and they give him a wide berth. Don't make eye contact, and he won't drag them into his scene. But of course, there's always a chance that cops may come at him for disturbing the peace.

Or maybe he's making a scene at the worst possible place, and he's attracted the attention of some of the gang kids from the docks, who might be looking to mug him for cash or drugs or maybe they just want to kick the shit out of him for fun. For as feral as Jeff's coming across, he's still dead useless in a fight, so it would probably be in his best interest to get whisked away from the scene before it escalates.

(One upside to acting like a lunatic in public? People are feeling cagey enough in his presence that it feeds that twisting thing in him, the one that isn't the Gift, because the Gift is gone.)

III. REMEMBER WHAT THE DORMOUSE SAID (circus grounds)

Finally, he traces the echo back to its source: the quiet, empty fields west of town, where the Fenix Down Extravaganza had been performing just... days (weeks?) ago. He's not really sure. Time's doing that fucked up thing again, where the days are kind of bleeding together, the same way reality and fantasy are starting to fuse once again. Maybe he's been staring at mirrors too long. But that's okay, because he's here now, in the place where it all started. Ground zero for the contamination seeping through the town's mirrors.

He doesn't really have a plan here. He doesn't know what he's doing, besides chasing something unattainable, a memory of a nightmare from which he wasn't ready to wake up. He's so tired of being the only one in his head. He's tired of being alone, and of missing home, and fuck, if those hauntings in the mirrors are the closest things to home, then he'll press his face against the glass until it cracks.

Jeff tosses his backpack down onto the grass, then sits down and starts rifling through it, looking for the cheap hand mirror he lifted from one of the shops in town. It's a stupid thing, heart shaped, and he feels like some evil queen in a fairy tale as he stares into it all who's the fairest of them all?

If anyone happens to come to the field, they may find Jeff there, crying as he's desperately begging someone (something?) to come back. Or maybe huddled in on himself, covering his ears and closing his eyes as if dealing with a really bad trip that he doesn't want to face. The fear coming off of him is obvious in the way he tries to make himself small to the monsters in his head.

Eventually, he passes out, and somebody may come across him asleep in the grass, still holding on to the mirror. He seems dead to the world, but don't worry: he's still alive.

IV. WILDCARD

Look, Jeff can't spend all his time going bonkers over mirrors. He leads a very rich, busy life otherwise! So, while he'll spend most of the month seeming tense and unstable, he still has some semblance of a routine at times-- particularly in the first half of the month. You can find him busking with his guitar around town, dumpster diving for day-old baked goods and imperfect (but perfectly edible!) produce, hanging out at Bonnie's, and-- unusually, for Jeff-- at the ADI library. He's doing research! Sometimes, he takes that research to various cafes or diners, jotting a bunch of notes down in a composition notebook.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

cw for drug dealing

[Aelwyn doesn't make a habit of visiting here too often, but... a girl does have to make a living, and it becomes increasingly clear that this is the best place to get anything more exclusive or illegal. These kids are used to dealing with people who aren't her usual clientelle so it shouldn't be too much of a problem once she starts up shop again. She'll just need to get into contact with the local shitty private school geeks.

And then she spots Jeff. And more importantly, she spots him getting shoved around like a ragdoll. It would be easy to just leave him there. She's never pretended to be a particularly heroic person, but he's... well, a kindred spirit at least. So with a roll of the eyes, she'll approach the situation and clear her throat.]

Problem? I think he'd like to leave now. [She's looking directly at the ringleader. She thinks about the last time she fed on these people, how she destroyed their comeradery forever and fed upon that fear of a life ruined completely out of the control of the victim. She turns off her phone. If she kills them all, she'd rather the ADI not know about it.]

[ No wonder these guys want to kick his ass so badly. Far as they can tell, Jeff's just this skinny, loopy junkie, wandering into their territory, and at first they figure: he's here to score drugs. But then the guys catch on that he's looking ahead, past them, and talking in hushed, harsh whispers, having some kind of secret conversation with, what, his imaginary friend?

That's when the switches flip from 'customer' to 'easy prey'. Maybe he's wasted, maybe he's crazy, either way nobody will care if they beat the shit out of him and take whatever he's got. When they start throwing taunts at him, he doesn't seem to notice, because he's too deep in his fantasy world. He reacts, at least, after a few shoves, seeming to snap and go feral because, apparently, they're keeping him from something important. Jeff tries to break free with the desperation of a wild animal looking for an escape, but the gang's got him penned in, shoving him around and laughing, taking their time. It's like an appetizer of light bullying before the main course of a violent beating.

(Robbery is, of course, the dessert.)

Aelwyn's interruption has a mixed reaction. A couple of the guys recognize her, and they go quiet, shifting and shuffling uncomfortably at the memory of the last time they saw her. They may not know what happened, what she said or did all those weeks ago to set their friend off-- if she said or did anything at all, really-- but the unease is there all the same. It's tough to look at her and not think about that day.

The others, predictably, laugh and start cat calling. ]

Aw, we're just having fun. [ The ringleader throws his arm around Jeff's shoulders and pulls him close in some mockery of friendship, so hard that Jeff practically stumbles into him. He can feel the guy's hand pat his cheek derisively, too hard to be mistaken for anything friendly. ] Aren't we?

[ That's Jeff's cue to say something. He looks at Aelwyn with some hazy look in his eyes, then opens his mouth like he's about to speak... then turns his head and bites down on the meat of the guy's hand. It's hard enough to break the skin, sudden enough that the guy screams, and it's so fucking shrill that Jeff has to laugh. He's in hysterics, it's so funny. ]

[Aelwyn doesn't make a habit of thinking too much about the people she hurts. They're just strangers she has no personal reason to care for, and most of the time they're not important or powerful enough to factor into her plans. But she does recognize these boys. Not by their faces, because who the fuck cares what they look like, but she recognizes them by the fear and recognition in their eyes.

Good. At least some of them are learning. She approaches closer, dropping her bag on the floor.]

I think you've debased yourself enough here, kiddo. Just hand over the twink and nobody has to get hurt. [She cocks her head and looks at the ringleader with a smirk.]

But if you want... I've been known to sample new sensations to good boys, and girls of course, just like you. And well, let's just say my associate isn't here to hold me back this time. [She winks at the two punks who she encountered before. She knows she's going to out herself as the one to blame for that, but the idea of that fear is... almost mouth watering.]

So I guess my question is... [She raises one hand.]

...Have you ever wondered what it'd feel like to burn alive?

[She raises her hand and flames start to lick up her fingers, all coming together to form a ball of fire hovering just above the palm of her hand.]

[ She doesn't have to tell the ringleader twice; he's shoving Jeff away with a curse, just to put some space between them before the fucking freak bites him again. Who even does that in a fight?

(Probably going to need a tetanus shot now, thanks to that goddamn twink.)

Jeff's still giggling in hysterics, though his laughter dies down with a yelp as he loses his footing and stumbles to the ground. Still, making the guy shriek puts him in a pretty good mood, and he shoots Aelwyn a grin as he gets back up.

One creep starts to move forward, ready to grab Jeff and drag him back for a proper beating, but his friend-- one of the ones who recognizes Aelwyn-- grabs him by the arm and yanks him back, with wide, fearful eyes locked on her. He's got a sense of self preservation, at least.

The ringleader doesn't. ]

The fuck are you saying, bitch?

[ He's got something to prove now. No way is he going to let a skinny junkie and a little girl get one over on him. He does his best to puff himself up as he starts to advance on her. His lackeys don't follow. Even the ones who never saw her before can tell there's something wrong here, and the fear rolling off their buddies is contagious. Two of them start running as soon as she winks, and the ringleader's scowling over his shoulder, shouting at them. ]

Fucking pussies! You're running away from a--

[ The ones who remain aren't paying attention to him. They're looking at the girl, and as the flames ignite from her fingers, they scream in horrified disbelief and sprint off after their friends.

Now the ringleader's all alone and at a loss for words, stammering out a bunch of nothing as he tries to process just what the fuck is going on.

And meanwhile, Jeff's attention seems to drift somewhere else, looking for something longingly, only to snap back to Aelwyn as she casts her spell. His eyes light up, and there's a smile playing at his lips. He's quick to cover his mouth with his hand, which could give the impression that he's horrified or something. He isn't, though. It's clear, with his wide, bright eyes, that he's fascinated, and eager to see how this is going to play out.

Whatever happens with the ringleader, whether he gets burned up or finally runs away, it's interesting enough to keep Jeff on earth for the time being. ]

Edited (oops i forgot to make jeff do anything) 2021-09-14 13:31 (UTC)

[Aelwyn approaches the ringleader, now stranded and alone, and now it's her turn to laugh. It's less hysterical than Jeff's, but there's something off about it. It's almost childlike in it's delight at the fear.

Oh, god, this feels amazing. Drugs, sex, alcohol, all of them pale in comparison to this high. It's enough to make her question what the point is in playing nice? These new "friends" of hers? It's only inevitable for all of them to fall into the same trap, and she'll be waiting, with the power of a God at her fingertips and she'll say...

Except Adaine's face flashes in her head, and Aelwyn's delight chills a bit. She's been controlling her emotions for a while now. She can temper this, and remember her purpose.]

You aren't very clever, are you? Your friends were trying to warn you and yet... well, it's no skin off my teeth. Personally? I like hurting people.

[She's about two feet away from him when something flashes in her eyes and two tendrils of pure flame snake their way around her, almost acting like some kind of shield. One of them reches forward and only barely brushes past his jacket, leaving a scorch mark that only just burns his skin.] But hey, I'm not completely unfair. I'll give you another five seconds headstart before we start your funeral pyre.

[That's her last vestige of self control. If he runs... he can go. Otherwise, she'll latch her fangs into him and drink him dry for all the fear in his weak-willed little mind.

She can kill him. She knows that she can kill him and she'll feel... nothing. Not in this state. There's no sensation that compares to that level of freedom.]

II. (The Docks)

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Library

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III / p5 spoilers cw blood slight gore

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iii; tw homelessness, brief drugs/addiction mention

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I (cw ; mentions of wounds)

cw: some mentions of addiction

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