LOG: see them talk and see them drown [open]

[cacophonish]

Who: Jeff & OPEN
When: Anytime in November
Where: Around town, Bonnie's, docks
Summary: In which Jeff goes back to his routine, tries to get his music career going, and gets further acquainted with the Spiral.
Warnings: Entity induced delusions and gaslighting in Prompt III.

I. GET INTO THE GROOVE, BOY

After all of the nightmares and trauma of the past month, Jeff's eager to return to what passes for life as usual in Gloucester. So, as soon as the random bouts of narcolepsy and sleepwalking stop? He stops showing up at his admin job with the ADI. It's probably for the best. Jeff's really not cut out for white collar work.

If you're at Bonnie's, you can sometimes find Jeff in the living room, practicing guitar. Or maybe he's helping Bonnie out with some odd jobs, like watering her many (many) plants, or making some attempt at organizing the kitchen. He might need an intervention before he arranges everything in some esoteric way that makes no sense to anybody but himself.

It's also not a totally uncommon sight to find Jeff in the communal bathroom, fully clothed and fast asleep in the shower. There's no supernatural excuse for it. You can be nice and wake him up, or just turn the shower on and let cold water rain down on him.

(He also has a habit of blasting music sometimes. This week, it's Red (Taylor's Version). Hey, he's gotta support artists taking the rights back to their music!)

Around town, you might run into Jeff busking on street corners, though he's unusually skittish if approached, startling easily and looking like a rabbit that's been cornered by a fox. Maybe some of the nightmares have had a longer lasting impact than he'd care to admit.

If you're out at night, you can find Jeff hanging out at any dive bar he can get into, trying to bum drinks off patrons. Buy him a drink? Chase off whichever poor, unfortunate soul he's hitting up? Start a bar fight? Drag his drunk ass home? The possibilities are endless in what passes for Gloucester's nightlife.

At some odd hours-- either late at night, or right around dawn-- Jeff can sometimes be found dumpster diving at local businesses. He's got it down to a science. Want to lend a hand? With a partner, he could loot an entire Thanksgiving feast.

II. THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SALT & PEPPER GANG

The whole week, Jeff's buzzing with excitement, inviting anyone and everyone to come see him play at The Toad In The Hole, a bar near the docks. It doesn't matter if he knows you or not: if you're with the ADI, or he sees you at Bonnie's, he's shoving a scrap of paper at you with the time, date, and address scribbled on it. Could he just send a link to The Toad In The Hole's Facebook event page? Sure, probably. But he's still not totally on board with the whole social media thing.

Anyway. Things are looking up for Jeff! Sure, last month was a literal nightmare, but he's just going to pointedly ignore his trauma and move on with his life (even if he's still not entirely, 100% convinced that he's awake or alive, and that's fine). What matters is: he's going to be on stage, performing, for the first time since he was stolen from a promising career and dumped in this shitty little town, 25 years in the fucking future. Sure, he's just playing guitar and doing backup vocals for a cover band who needed to replace a member after he moved to Florida, but at least it's something. And locally, the Salt & Pepper Gang are a big deal. They're a beloved Gloucester institution!

From the frontman of a wild LA band on the rise, to playing second fiddle to a bunch of dorky white collar dudes in their 50s, it's... a pretty big fall, but honestly, Jeff just considers himself lucky he gets to perform at all. They almost didn't let him audition, taking one look at his baby face and figuring he wouldn't know any of the songs in their repertoire, all the greatest hits of the 70s and 80s. But he convinced them to let him play a Zappa solo, and that was enough to get them to give him a real shot. A couple weeks of rehearsals later, and here they are, ready to debut a setlist with their newest (weirdly young and totally out of place!) member.

Anyone who comes around to The Toad In The Hole the night of the show will be in for a disappointment: a last-minute cancellation by the Salt & Pepper Gang. Apparently, the wildly charismatic lead singer, Dr. Dan, got into a bad wreck as he was leaving his dental clinic, and while doctors are optimistic that he will regain consciousness, it's going to be a long time before he'll be performance-ready. Probably for the best, since Jimmy Magill the drummer just broke his wrist in a freak accident while taking his dog for a walk. As for the bassist, Big Bill? Nobody's been able to get in touch with him all day...

Weird.

You can find Jeff out front, though, sitting on the curb with his guitar case. Apparently, he's not allowed in the bar without the band, since he's still considered underage, thanks to the mistake on his state ID. He looks like he's trying not to cry as he hugs himself and tries to keep warm in the New England chill. God, he's fucking pathetic.

"It's all my fault," he sniffs.

III. HE WAS THE SUN BURNING BRIGHT AND BRITTLE

He finds the mushrooms out in Dogtown one day, in an odd clearing that he doesn't think existed the last time he was out this way. Yeah, it's not like Jeff's got the whole place mapped out, but his wanderings have taken him out here enough times that he's at least reasonably familiar with the area.

He's pretty sure the clearing wasn't here before.

Maybe.

Who knows.

The mushrooms are pretty fucking weird looking, with veiny, fractal patterns all over their caps, and smaller fungal offshoots growing off of each other. All together, they seem to be growing out, not in a fairy circle, but a spiral.

Jeff crouches down and really studies them, even though he doesn't know a fucking thing about mushrooms out in the wild. But there's something about the veiny lines and weird patterns spreading all over that he can't help but stare at. Are they moving? Changing? Growing before his eyes?

He doesn't know how long he's there before the thought comes to him. Eat me, he thinks, with a giggle. Jeff picks one of the mushrooms from the dirt, and it's like something else is moving him, puppeting his limbs, as he stuffs it into his mouth and starts to eat it.

The next thing he knows, he's back in town. How many hours have passed? How'd he even get here? Who fucking knows. He doesn't really care, to be honest. His head's just... it feels like someone shoved a bunch of cotton balls in his brain. His memories from life before Gloucester are... they don't make any sense. There's a disconnect. Like if he thinks about LA, and his friends, and his mom and dad and brothers and demons in his head and magic-- all that magic-- it feels like he's just watching movie clips. None of it feels real. It's not real. He may not be sure of much, but he knows that much now, with perfect clarity.

It's like waking up from a dream.

Yes, his name's Jeff Calhoun. No, he wasn't born in 1974, that's insane. He must've been born in 2002, like it says on his ID. Is he even from LA, or was he just... some fucking kid from nowhere, who ran away from home years ago, and only made it as far as Gloucester? His mom isn't a witch with paint and clay, and his dad can't spin words into magic. That's all just fairy tales, a fantasy life dreamed up by a lost, lonely boy.

He can't be the only one with a head full of lies. Does anyone else know?

Whether out on the streets, in a local shop or at Bonnie's, Jeff will stop anyone he finds-- recognizes-- from the ADI, grabbing their arm with a wide-eyed look of absolute conviction, laced with fear.

"You've gotta help me. I need-- I need to get out of here."

Gloucester, he means, and away from the ADI. He needs to find the truth of who he really is.

IV. WILDCARD
[ toss anything at me!! you can reach me at weeyotch or weeyotch#8200. ]

Comments

II. THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SALT & PEPPER GANG

[chainreactions]

(Suit and tie. Although Kurapika has bought a considerable amount of clothes, he would very much like to enter a bar. It's when people are inebriated that they spill secrets, tell stories of grandeur with a small hint of truth behind it - like that time they've allegedly fought a ghost in Dogtown. Besides, it's important for Kurapika to learn about this reality, what do people talk about, what is the culture like, and while he doesn't appreciate the loudness, studying has always done him some good.

With his hands in his pockets, he fully intended to move past the young boy with a guitar, suspecting the gloom to be something related to barring him entrance, much like what can happen when Kurapika attempts it himself.

But then, he hears it. The sniff might be low, but Kurapika's got great ears and attention and he immediately stops in his tracks.)

What is?

[cacophonish]

[ Jeff looks up, squinting for a moment, confused even in his gloom. What kind of a teenager goes to a bar in a suit and tie? But then it clicks; he's seen the kid around ADI turf. So it stands to reason he's like Jeff, another fish out of water, dumped on a different world. ]

Oh. The show-- [ He waves a hand at the bar, then shakes his head, looking down at his knees again. ] The way everything went to shit. I'm a fucking-- a bad luck charm.

[chainreactions]

(The kind of teenager who not only leads the mob security team, but also is part of the group that commands and oversees the biggest, most prestigious association of his world... It's been Kurapika's equivalent of sweatpants and shirts for around two years now.)

Ah. For a second, I thought you were going to say something important.

(Forgive him... He doesn't mean it...)

There is no such thing as a "bad luck charm". Unless you had direct fault, I sincerely doubt your mere presence would cause such distress.

[cacophonish]

[ Jeff definitely shoots him a 'what the fuck?' look at that remark, but at least it distracts him from his own self pity for a moment. ]

Dude. This is the second band that fell apart right after I joined. The first one happened so fast I didn't even get to tell anyone to come to our gig! [ He jerks a thumb at the people milling in and out of the bar. ] I overheard a guy calling me Yoko Ono.

I

[forethinking]

(Today is not an ADI-staying day. Akechi has kicked him out for the week, something about not being too obvious, but this is customary of each and every week. Therefore, today, he sleeps in his room as he has for half the week, and tomorrow afternoon, he returns to ADI.

Just because he doesn't stay here for the entire time, it doesn't mean Ren can't make food for everyone to have while he's out, though. So he's already pre-cutting everything so that tomorrow, he can make a bigger batch of curry to last while he's out.

Lost in his thoughts, he soon notices they accompany a melody. Having just finished packaging the last of the ingredients, Ren washes his hands to join Jeff on the couch, a never-fading smile on his lips.)

Sounds nice.

[cacophonish]

[ Jeff looks up, giving Ren a nod in greeting, and smiles. ]

Thanks. It's a new song I wrote, but it's-- I dunno, I think it still needs some work. But I wanna write a bunch of new stuff, get a good, original set, maybe find a spot for solo gigs...

[ He plucks a few notes, idly feeling things out. ]

What're you working on?

[forethinking]

Will you let me hear them?

(It's gentle, the tone and the motion towards the papers on the couch.)

I'm out for a few days. Leaving food for everyone.

I

[abrightboy]

Malcolm sees Jeff on the sidewalk and it’s like the worst kind of deja vu. But he hasn’t seen Jeff around since that night.

He puts his hands in his pockets and takes a breath and approaches.

[cacophonish]

It doesn't matter that he's in the middle of a song, Jeff's breath catches in his throat when he sees Malcolm, and he stops playing. His eyes go wide in that prey animal way. The impulse to run is hammering away in his chest, but he doesn't, not yet.

Martin Whitly was never really here. He has to remember that. Martin Whitly wasn't real, not the one he met, anyway, and he's not lurking around right now.

Except he could be. What if he showed up at the ADI? What if Jeff's still dreaming? There's no way of knowing. If a dream feels real, leaves real cuts in his psyche, weaves so seamlessly with the waking world that it's indistinguishable, then it is real, isn't it?

His eyes dart around, looking for serial killer dads lurking in the shadows. If somebody killed him right now, right on the street, would anyone even care?

"Hey, Malcolm," he greets, and it's hard to keep the nerves out of his voice.

[abrightboy]

“Hi Jeff,” he replies, stopping to lean against the wall beside Jeff, not on the sidewalk facing him.

He’s on Jeff’s side, the posture says without saying it.

“How’ve you been?”

Since the dream stuff; he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to clarify. Tim had been avoiding him. He thought maybe Jeff needed some space before he was ready to see him, too.

i

[sakaya]

[ The Gloucester nightlife in dive bars is what Shuten can get used to. While back in the day, she was more used to appearing as she was, oni horns and all, she has to admit, it's fun being among humans who accept her human appearance and are even eager to buy drinks for her (of course her petite stature raises a few brows, but her ID from the ADI and the way she carries herself helps solve that problem; that and the usual assumptions of good aging).

She'll take free drinks always.

It doesn't take long for her to notice one evening, the young man who's trying to bum drinks off of other patrons; how amusing! The oni can sense there's some fun to be had and since the other evenings have been way too peaceful for her standards, what's the harm in stirring up the pot? It would be considered mundane, wouldn't it?

And so a small lady calls out to Jeff. ]

Hey there!

[ She's dressed normally of course; an ADI employee had made sure that Shuten was NOT to dress in her usual Servant garbs. Hey, no skin off of Shuten's back, as long as it's comfortable and cute.

Shuten holds up a glass of whiskey and shakes its contents around enticingly. ]

Trying to slake your thirst for tonight?

[cacophonish]

[ Okay, so Jeff is kind of like a dog, and she might as well be shaking a bag of treats at him. As soon as the (very short??) chick calls him over, Jeff drops whoever he's hitting up and makes a beeline for her.

She looks vaguely familiar. Has he seen her around Bonnie's? ]

Hey! Hi. Yeah, I thought I'd come out, but, uh... [ He shoves his hands in his pocket and tries to play it cool with a shrug as he looks around. ] I left my ID at home. [ He grins, trying to play it off like he's kind of sheepish about it. Today's angle: cute and self-deprecating. ] Fucking idiot, right?

[sakaya]

[ How cute, she thinks, as he makes his way over, easily lured in by the glass. When he's close, Shuten pats the empty seat next to her.

(He may have seen glimpses of her around the Flophouse, her horns and small figure casting shadows on the walls; it's not like she's hiding, but you know, you miss people sometimes). ]

Sit, sit! There's no need to brood about an itsy bitsy mistake like that.

[ The oni slides said glass to him, paying no mind to the bartender who's scrunching his brows at her. ]

Besides, I'd like to chat with someone new tonight.

III

[ployboy]

He's not sorry, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't feel bad about it. He's been busy these past days. Things are happening, changing. Sometimes-- people just fall through the cracks. It doesn't mean anything automatically terrible, Tim knows. That doesn't mean that he doesn't feel bad about it. So when he finally (finally) cruises up to Bonnie's to knock on Jeff's door, when he picks that flimsy lock and lets himself in and he can't find the guy after a... few days of radio silence, he thinks

well, at least he can get some more hours of work in before he trudges back to B1 at curfew.

Tim is worried, yeah, and somehow even more miserable than the normal when the social visit came up fruitless but. It's fine.

Until he's stepping outside of the flophouse and Jeff's got his arm in desperation. The worry flares. His instinct is to want to find-- "What happened? Are you hurt?"

[cacophonish]

Relief wells up in him, along with a wave of affection, and he's throwing his arms around Tim in a hug that's a little too clingy, too desperate, too much.

Just give him a moment. He sniffles, shakes his head, which is easier to feel than see given the whole, you know. Clingy hug.

"No, I'm--" He's not fine, but. "I'm not hurt. I just-- I need..."

How can he explain it without sounding totally fucking nuts? Or, rather, a different kind of nuts than the nuts he really is. Well, see, I was delusional before, but now I know I'm delusional, so you're going to have to trust me when I explain--

Jeff releases Tim and scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand. He's not crying, he's just. Overwhelmed. And a little nauseated. But he fixes his eyes on Tim's so he knows Jeff's being serious here.

"I think my family's out there, man," he says, his confession coming out in a rush. He runs both hands through his hair, pushing it back, exhaling. (Sidenote: fuck, he needs a haircut. But that's not important--) "I think... that they've always been out there."

[ployboy]

It's an awkward embrace, Tim with his skateboard tucked under his arm and the giant labrador retriever of a guy suddenly enveloping him. It's the first hug he's been recieved with in his stay in Gloucester, the first time that Tim braves a stoic face etching into his expression as he wraps one, free arm around Jeff. He remembers-- it's like a flashback, hitting him and it's gone as soon as it came-- consoling Tam, having to hear and feel her sobs. She thought her dad had died. Of course he had hugged her. This isn't his apartment, though. This isn't anyone sobbing. Jeff, who doesn't smell like bad, cheap strawberry shortcake body spray anymore, is remarkably well put together.

That in itself should be sounding the alarm.

Instead Tim's holding his breath and he's, with practiced, perfect precision, catching one of Jeff's wrists with his hand. He gets it.

"I believe you," he says, because he gets it. Three words, unnerving to say in the face of unpredictability and turmoil. Three words that would have changed his life but Tim had heard them only after all of that heavy lifting. And he's still tired. He's still tired.

Jeff doesn't get to do that. Jeff shouldn't have to do that. Damnit, nobody should.

There's a gravity to this that Tim can't begin to fathom-- he breathes out to a count of four, for his own sake. Then he nods. Releases Jeff's wrist. Tells himself that, despite the frown on his lips, that this is a good thing. He's doing a good thing. Jeff shouldn't have to suffer it alone, this idea.

This wild goose chase.

"I believe you. If they're out there, we'll find them. I promise."

III

[chainreactions]

(No more suit and tie on non-ADI premises for Kurapika. Today, he sports a black sweater along with a large coat, thick enough to shelter him from the cutting breeze that runs against his body as he wa--

Isn't that the musical kid?

When the despair reaches Kurapika's ears, the first thing he does is to look for signs of distress. Not an ounce of blood, but he sees his pupils, two large moons, and his first thought is that there had been an incident much like the one Kurapika went through. The sheer weight of his worries nearly pressing him down into a pulp, all caused by the supernatural element that surrounds this down.

Ok. He can deal with this.)

Will you please calm down?!

(Kurapika Be Nice Challenge.)

What happened?

[cacophonish]

[ Calm down? Jeff runs both hands through his hair, pushing it back, away from his face, and tries to just. Breathe. Calm down. He swallows thickly and looks around, though who knows who he's even looking out for. If he had an enemy, or like, somebody invested in keeping the delusion going, he wouldn't even know what they looked like. ]

I remembered. [ That's what happened. ] Or... un... un-remembered? [ He makes a face, clearly confused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. ] Everything's a fucking lie, man. [ Jeff leans in and lowers his voice to impart a secret: ] I think I might be crazy.

[chainreactions]

You're high, Jeff. Whatever you think it's a lie, you'll be able to re-evaluate once you're sober. Where do you live?

(Kurapika is not Leorio - a medic in the making, but he's not stupid enough to not notice how ginormous Jeff's eyes are, the confusion that leaks through his expression with each and every word. It's clear.)

I'll take you home, though if you've done it on purpose, I'm not babysitting you.

(Maybe. Probably he will.)

III :v

[lesbeau]

Beau knows a thing or two about eating random mushrooms and hoping they'll get you baked, and by 'a thing or two' she means she can reference multiple stories on command (even if she doesn't remember what happened after eating them a couple of times). Sometimes you get desperate and tired and poison yourself a little. It's fine.

That said, of all the people she recognizes at Bonnie's, Jeff seems the absolute most likely to be on drugs at any given point, meaning at first she doesn't clock something's up aside from that when he grabs her and starts muttering.

"Dude, are you having a bad trip or something? You look like you're about to vibrate right outta your skin and not even in a fun way." Yeah, she's trying to get a look at his pupils now even if she knows next to nothing about medical treatment. "If you got something good I'm gonna be so mad if you didn't bring any to share."

[cacophonish]

His pupils are definitely dilated, taking up way too much real estate in his eyes, which overall have a glassy sort of look to them. Not great. Jeff withdraws his hand, and he stares at Beau for a moment-- more than a moment, actually, like he's glitching or his brain's on standby mode or--

He blinks and seems to snap awake.

"I-- I found something good in Dogtown. It woke me up." Yeah, that should confirm it: he's definitely on shrooms. "Wanna see?"

Do not go to Dogtown with this mess.

[lesbeau]

Okay, but here's a thought, what if she went to Dogtown with this mess. Sure Jeff seems like a fuckin' weirdo but he looks very, very tripped out, and at the very least if he has some bad stuff she'd like to know what it looks like to avoid her own panic-induced screamfest. She raises an eyebrow at him like she's thinking about it, and then decides she can probably suplex him if he tries anything and shrugs.

"Alright, yeah. Show me what you found bro."

It's not like she goes anywhere without her staff regardless, so sure, let's go look at weird drugs.

SALT AND PEPPER, LIKE HIS BEARD

[inlieuofadad]

Gil is surprised when Jeff invites him, though the excitement is good to see. The issue of the cocaine in Jeff's socks doesn't come up, and Gil doesn't make it. That's not a conversation he thinks Jeff is ready for yet.

He's rolling up to the Toad right on time, and when he sees Jeff sitting on the curb with that look on his face...

He sighs, walking over to offer Jeff a hand up. "You look like you could use a drink."

It's said dryly, without sympathy or compassion. That can come once Jeff has relaxed a little.

[cacophonish]

He accepts the offered hand, his own free hand going for his guitar case so he can haul it up while Gil hauls him up. Teamwork.

"Yeah," he sniffs glumly. He's sure he sounds-- and looks-- like a stupid little kid right now, instead of... what, a rock star about to make it big in the town of Gloucester? "Um." Jeff casts a quick look at the bar, and quickly looks down again, stomach churning with guilt and humiliation. "Not here, though."

[inlieuofadad]

"Nah. I've got a place."

He doesn't. Not since those townies went missing or turned up dead. He's avoided getting to know anyone obviously mundane. And when did that terminology become normal? Christ.

But it doesn't matter. He does know a place that won't frown on him ordering a drink for a kid of questionable age.