OPEN LOG: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

[stations]

Who: Jack Townsend & Open
When: The month of September
Where: Around — it's a catchall!
Summary: Some intro prompts + eventually event prompts as well
Warnings: Cognitive impairment ft. gaslighting, hallucinations, time loss, etc; mentions of amputation & other violence; adult language; spooky ghosts

(Prompts in comments; this is not a cut text.)

𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔.

Comments

[stations]

( The scrunched up look on his face says yeah, I know at her observation. He's nothing if not self-aware. It's just... sometimes kind of like watching a train wreck. Nothing he can really do about it, this bad boy's already headed off the rails.

Tonight's not so bad, though. Tonight he feels at least slightly confident he can get through a completely normal, sane, not stupid interaction with her.

God please don't let him be jinxing himself right now. )

Yeah, that would be... really great. Thank you.

( He's generally more of a coffee guy, but tea and coffee are kind of like... friendly cousins. The former even sometimes involves caffeine, so he's game. )

[carmesi]

[tea is wanda's preference because tea is what would be drunk the most back home, considering the culture she was brought up in. with a smile at his answer, she beelines to the kitchen, where she puts together the aforementioned drink.

she returns to the common area a few minutes later, carrying two mugs; one, she offers to him.]

Here.

[and once taken, she goes to get a seat somewhere across from him.]

No one will mind if you turn on more lights to read better, you know.

[stations]

( By the time she's back, Jack has his bus pass stuck into his book like a bookmark — because he's not a dog-earing heathen scum of the earth, thank you very much. He hasn't closed it deliberately, though the pages naturally fan themselves over the mark. It still has that crisp new book rigidity. Things he gets way too much satisfaction from for 300, Alex.

He curls both hands around his mug, and shoots an absent glance around the dim living room. )

I know, I just... have a lifelong dream of making my vision go bad.

( As far as small talk goes, it's not the most awkward he's ever been. So far so good. )

[carmesi]

[that actually gets her to snort, and she hides her amusement by bringing the cup up to her face and taking a sip of her tea. it's peppermint; warm not just in temperature, but also taking a refreshing note that will surely be of use for jack's late-night reading marathon with a dim light.]

I won't stop you.

[though the comment is the most normal thing he's said in her presence, which means—]

You look like you've settled in well compared to when I met you at the store.

[stations]

Yeah.

( Admitted awkwardly with a little downward glance at his mug. He thumbs the rim as he shrugs one absent shoulder. )

Sorry. Things were just... really...

( Well, there's no other way to say it— )

Fucked up, back home before I woke up here. Like, really... really insane. I pretty much hadn't had a conversation with someone that wasn't trying to kill me in... weeks? Not to get all weirdly dark or anything.

[carmesi]

[making sense with his words—putting words into an intelligible sentence. that's a lot better than when they first talked, but it's not like wanda is keeping track.

she listens, though, and understands even if the situation is not the same for her.]

I would also have a hard time if that had been me. [hmm] Though it does explain why you talk the way you do.

[starting conversations with alarming statements and all.]

Why would anyone want to hurt you?

[stations]

( That first bit earns a scrunched up mouth and a slightly distant look while he replays their conversations in his head. Trying to figure out what the way he talks sounds like, and ultimately deciding on... just, weird. He's weird as hell. This isn't news, so he isn't going to dwell on it. He's come to terms with it sort of like he's come to terms with losing his leg. Sucks, but what can you do? )

It's... kind of a long, crazy story. I'm not even sure you'd believe half of it.

( Which isn't to say he won't talk about it, he legitimately put it all in a blog for strangers online to read with 0 hesitation, it's just that she's already been hit with a big ol' helping of his crazy it seems fair to give her an out right off the bat. Presumably she didn't make tea in the middle of the night with the goal of being freaked the hell out by a stranger.

On the other hand, there's a wizard sorcerer here that made it a point to reinforce how crazy for him is kind of normal for everyone else, so... who knows. Maybe his whole deal is like Easy Button mode for her, he doesn't know her life. )

[carmesi]

I have lived in crazy before.

[not quite literally, but kind of pretty literally. she taps at the curve of the cup, waiting for the heat of the water to warm her hands from the night's chill. few things are bound to unnerve her, given what she's experienced.]

But I understand not wanting to share. Not that you don't trust me, of course. [a glance at him—] It is just exhausting to keep repeating it to everyone who asks.

[which is why she doesn't really go into detail about her own baggage, generally.]

Wish that I could say you can get a break in this world.

[stations]

I mean, it's not really that...

( Mildly, hesitantly, holding his cup to his chest like it's a baby or a football or something. )

So much as like... yes, this place is weird, and I've heard a little about it, but it's still not as crazy as some of the stuff going on back home. You kind of... walked in on me staring into the abyss covered in blood, so I'm trying not to push maximum capacity, you know?

( Covered is a really strong word. It was on his bat more than anything, maybe a little on the cooler, a few flecks here and there, but... in terms of blood vs. no blood, any amount of the former is a little alarming when you don't known the context. )

[carmesi]

...one could say it is an improvement?

[to be here than to be back home. like a nice little break from whatever crazy circumstance is taking place. sometimes wanda feels like being here is but her hold her breath, waiting for the moment to exhale to let whatever disaster comes next from flooding her.

not that there is any particular thing that occurred prior to coming here that has her concerned for her future actions—though she can think of a few.]

How did that happen? You staring into the abyss while covered in blood.

[stations]

( Yes, arguably, definitely an improvement — one he'd be more appreciative of if every second he was away didn't mean a greater chance for the collector to seize control of the gas station and ruin the fucking world.

Then again, Jerry's here now — from the future, too, which means maybe he can start to relax? )

It's... kind of a long story.

( He starts with an exhale. )

The short version is... the gas station I own is sitting on like some weird cosmic crossroads and this asshole god-king named Brother Riley wants to steal it and use it to break out of his shitty prison and take over the world, so he started sending in clones to try and murder me every day? So, you know... just... that.

( Just normal gas station things. And like that isn't interesting enough to warrant follow-up questions, he adds on a polite: )

What kind of crazy have you seen?

[carmesi]

And you don't have any kind of powers?

[it's the first thing she can think of; she can't imagine having to face some kind of threat of that magnitude and just so happen to be a bystander with none of her magic and no real way of defending herself. though if she reaches back into her childhood, she knows the feeling very well.

but—surely he must have something to be able to survive 'every day', right?]

I have so many questions. [a shake of her head; she could interrogate him until the sun came up, wondering about all these details he's removed from the 'short version'.] But to answer yours, the world I am from just went through what is called The Blip. Half the living things in the universe was exterminated, myself included. [this part she speaks about a little quickly, with the intonation of someone who may or may not be sharing a joke.] When I was returned I basically created my own world based on sitcoms and trapped a bunch of people to do what I asked to make it the perfect world, until an actual witch tried to sabotage me.

[a huff, and a shrug.]

God-kings tend to be assholes. Is he human?

[stations]

Huh. Well, that sucks. Witches, am I right?

( Sorry about your perfect world sabotage situation. Also the extermination thing.

Would a normal person be way more weirded out by that? Probably. Should he have a more concerned reaction to being told that she trapped a bunch of people in TV-land? Maybe.

Que sera sera. Kanye shrug. Jack is fucking weird.

He scratches behind one of his ears. )

But, um, no. No powers. And he's... definitely not human. He just looks like one.

[carmesi]

[jack really is proving to be wanda's kind of person, what with his general nonchalance about situations that would otherwise make people raise an eyebrow either in concern or contempt. it's nice to not have people ask a zillion questions about the situation, or trying to ponder the morality of things.

but the not-human thing is a bummer: then no chance in getting rid of him by human means.]

Is it your responsibility dealing with him?

wanda takes a sip of her tea; ponders the situation for a moment.] Because you own the gas station keeping him stuck. Feels like it should have been in the contract.

[stations]

( Jack's best friend is a former murder-cult member with a penchant for bombs and a hard-on for homicide. He helped his former best friend hide several bodies (granted, all the bodies were the same guy, but still). He's got some... pretty lax boundaries, to say the least. )

If I don't do it, nobody else will.

( A simple answer, with a shrug. )

Plus, I'm... kind of weird? I have a broken brain that makes me immune to... stuff. Somehow. I think anybody else he could just brain-scramble or something, but that doesn't really... work on me.

[carmesi]

[so what jack is saying is that if wanda ever needed to use her powers to push around people's minds, he would be immune to it. —nah, she's past that.]

Sounds like a lucky break, but I cannot imagine there is much comfort in having that kind of responsibility on your shoulders.

[and so, whatever jack needs to do to deal with him and/or destroy him for good becomes, irrevocably, difficult.]

...is that why you have a hard time sleeping? I was going to offer a spell that would help you fall asleep, but it sounds like it's something you've been dealing with for a long time now.

[has grown used to, too.]

[stations]

Yeah. I appreciate it, but... spells don't really... work on me either, for that. I mean, they haven't so far. A few demigods have tried.

( Things neither he nor they knew at the time: they don't work because he's already asleep — or if he's not, when he does fall asleep it's not to REM and he's still aware of his surroundings, he just starts... hallucinating like a motherfucker.

It's gonna be a real fun shock when he gets that diagnosis in a few weeks. Still permanently tired, still hallucinating, still memory loss and black-outs and loss of time and everything, but... at least he's not dying, right? )

[carmesi]

[demigods. it sounds like jack has found himself in the middle of something that goes beyond the casual human experience, despite the sound of a lot of things going against his favor.

wanda inches forward on her seat, feet flat on the floor, elbows on her thighs as she tries keeping eye contact with jack. it's easy to not feel the constriction of time right in this place, what with the dim light and the quiet that pervades; the heating rattling the pipes that course through the building once in a while, the dried leaves rolling on the pavement.

should she even be contemplating this?]

If you ever wanted some help, perhaps I... could — try. I'm not positive I will be able to do much, considering your experiences. [carefully, she pushes the cup around in her hands] But if it ever is too much.

[she looks down now, grimacing, but ultimately forcing a smile on her face.]

I have powers that let me control what goes on in a person's mind. I would use it to help my brother sleep free of nightmares. I've used it on even more powerful people; a god of Asgard, a witch. [sorry pietro— wanda looks up at jack again.] Only to help, and only if you want, of course.

[stations]

( But if it is ever too much... Jack can't help but think, Lady, if only you knew. Everything's felt like too much for years. His exhaustion, the constant weight of his ever-deteriorating mental state, it's been too much for as long as he can remember — a quantity of time rapidly dwindling as it eats away at his memory.

Needless to say, his hopes aren't very high. All the same—

He shrugs. )

I'm game. It couldn't hurt. What's the worst that could happen?

( Literally nothing, as far as he knows. Nothing happening is basically the only consequence of failure, and it's one he's extremely used to. )