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Apocalypse How Mods ([personal profile] apocalypsehowmods) wrote in [community profile] apocalypsehowcomm2022-10-16 02:23 pm

Event - Untimely


Untimely

➥ Reality Check

Photo of a light-skinned person with dark hair lying in bed. They are wearing blue and white striped pajamas and a gray eye mask. The covers are white.
(cw: hypersomnia, coma, supernaturally induced metaphysical hunger, psychosomatic pain)

"We all dream," the representative from Copernicus explains, directing attention to a powerpoint slide projected onto the wall beside her. The seminar in one of the conference rooms is ADI's latest effort to combat Ava's influence and take the fight to their foe. If she's going to put them all to sleep, then so be it. Let their ranks be ready for battle there. "My boss, Zyrian Steel, is a big dreamer. Copernicus started as one. We-" She pauses as her eyes seem to catch on someone at the back of the room. "But that-that's another presentation! Suffice to say, Mr. Steel heard you were having some sleep troubles around the office and wanted to help.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Luna, and I'm here from Copernicus' Augmenting Reality group to talk to you about lucid dreaming. Now, I see some of us are here in our Halloween outfits." She smiles and poses in her 50's-style poodle skirt. "Some of you have very impressive make-up and prosthetics, I might add. I was told there might be some stiff competition for this mid-Halloween get-together. Glad to see they weren't having a little fun with me." Any non-human in the audience is given an appreciative nod. "I can see we have a few dreams brought to life here, but what about shaping the dreams we have while we're in them?"

"We're going to go through a few exercises today. The key tricks for inducing lucid dreaming include:

"One, assess your reality regularly. Even if you can't remember falling asleep, take a moment every few hours to test your reality. Dreams might look very familiar, but there will always be inconsistencies and distortions you can catch. This should help you to recognize when you're dreaming.

"Second, the MILD method or Mnemonic Induction of Lucid Dreams. This is a method where you'll set an alarm for 5 hours after you go to sleep. Once awake, you'll tell yourself, 'The next time I'm dreaming, I will remember that I'm dreaming.' You'll also try to imagine yourself in a lucid dream as you go back to sleep. Silly as it sounds, just having that intentionality can be highly effective.

"Third, tell yourself when you go to sleep that you are going to have a lucid dream, that you will be shaping your reality, even if it seems outside of your control. Convince yourself. Convince others.

"And fourth…" Luna pulls out some high-tech looking eyemasks. "You can try one of our patented Lucidio Eye Masks. These devices help to unlock your mind and provide it with a few extra cues that you're dreaming once you enter REM sleep. We'll be handing out a limited number of samples, courtesy Mr. Steel. That's for the end of our presentation. Now, let's go through the stages of sleep…"

Whether you can stay away for the rest of the presentation, everyone will be chivved awake with increasingly harsh prods if they've fallen asleep during the presentation. There are more seminars throughout the next few days, always similar with Luna offering her guidance on lucid dreaming. Maybe it's enough. Maybe it isn't.

The music doesn't stop. As with last October, the haunting tunes extend their grasp from the graveyards and out toward the rest of Gloucester, ringing through ADI's halls, along with the Flophouse. The music induces intense sleepiness, and you might find your coworkers slumping down while they walk or you might fall victim to the music, yourself.

You awake… somewhere. It might be a place that's familiar, or one that's utterly alien. What you know is that there is something in this place that calls to you, sings in your blood and burns to be away from. And yet, you're terrified. There is something here that wants to consume every part of you, suck the marrow from your bones and leave you a husk of what you once were. You need it. You want it. You are hungry for it. For the fear it both brings and demands. This place seems to be some sort of pocket dimension, a personal hell built just for you and the things that sink their teeth into your bones and claw at the back of your mind. This is a terrifying place.

And you're not alone.

If you've been paying attention to the seminars, perhaps you'll be able to recognize this as a dream, something that isn't real. Sensations that aren't real. A world that isn't real. But with that realization comes a choice. You could try to break free of your personal hell, rip it to shreds, make it less horrific. Or… or there is something that calls to you in this place, a thing that sounds the death of who you once were, perhaps. You could call back, reshape this reality to terrorize the others trapped here with you. They'll never know if you were aware or not, will they? They don't need to know you did this to them consciously.

Just this once, what if you gave in? If someone dies in the dream, it's not like they die in real life. Right?


➥ Knead Help

Photo of several bread skulls on a red, glass platter.
(cw: blood, unsanitary food, supernaturally-induced existential dread, supernaturally-induced suicidal thoughts, isolation, dissociation)

Deathbed Bread is off the market. Thanks to a timely tip, the Health Department has finally made a slightly less timely visit to Better Loaf than Never, and were forced to shut the storefront down when their inspectors were unable to gain entry to the kitchen. The lights are still on behind the boarded-up windows, though, the smell of sourdough still permeating the air as loaf after loaf is delivered through a slot from the kitchen through the day and night, bread piling up on the counter and floor behind the register. They come at regular intervals, still warm from the oven. ADI has taken over the little storefront now and set up a tiny field office there, the higher-ups having pulled enough strings for law enforcement to look the other way and not ask too many questions about the people coming and going as efforts to break into the kitchen intensify...and as ADI staff truck away loads of Deathbed Bread to incinerate back at headquarters.

Someone has a bright (or maybe desperate) idea: if they can't get in, maybe they can at least stop the bread from coming out. Boarding up the bread slot, by all accounts, works for perhaps an hour or two as those present can still hear more bread piling up on the other side. Then there's a soul-wrenching cry of anguish followed by a violent attack on the barrier from inside the kitchen that ends with an ADI agent injured by flying debris and a cascade of sourdough loaves stained with bloody handprints. It's enough, though. Whatever supernatural seal that made the kitchen blockade impenetrable has broken, and within the day ADI is able to break down the door.

A thick, unnatural fog is all that can be seen inside the doorway. Rather than the cool of an early morning, though, the damp air is hot and cloying; those who venture inside will soon find themselves drenched with a mix of sweat and humidity from the air. They will also soon find themselves alone, regardless of what companions they might have had with them when they entered. Did you have someone with you? You must have; it would be foolish to enter alone, and yet it rapidly becomes difficult to remember their face, their voice, the touch of their hand. Perhaps you imagined them. Perhaps you've always been alone.

Dark shapes in the fog resolve into tombstones as one nears--no, into huge, upright loaves of bread jutting up from where they've been sunk into the soft ground of this strange graveyard, dry and cracked and dead. There are names pressed into them, dates of death spanning the last few weeks…and the next few. Perhaps you'll spot your own name and today's date. And why shouldn't it be today? Everyone dies, and everyone dies alone. Any action other than laying down on the soft dough of your own grave and letting it swallow you up is only delaying the inevitable.

The spell of deathly quiet over this place isn't complete, though. Keep moving, keep trying, keep hanging on to thoughts of those you love and the clear sky beyond this little world, and you might find a friend who needs your help as much as you need theirs. One or both people encountering each other may feel as though they're in a dream, unable to see or hear the other–but with persistence, with feeling, it's possible to reforge the connection. Love and friendship may shine a light on what was invisible–but so will shared anger, joy, or disgust. Any strong, shared emotion beyond the fear and sadness that permeates this place renders would-be ghosts visible, solid, and real to one another, able to move forward or turn back to escape together–or to begin tearing up the tombstones in fierce denial of their portents.

This hellish graveyard is as far as most will go. Somewhere deeper in what was the kitchen, Bryn still labors and the bread still piles up. It will be up to those few lucky (or unfortunate) enough to stumble across him to put a final end to this.


➥ Never Sleep Again

image of a country landscape with a two-lane road running through it, a bicyclist riding toward an impossible split in the road where the ground splits like a zipper and peels away toward the sky
(cw: child death, body horror, violence, potential injury or character death, nightmare dream logic)

Are you dreaming or are you awake? It becomes harder to tell as the music flows through halls and streets, rooms and parks. It’s dangerous out there, people falling asleep where they shouldn’t, or finding themselves face-to-face with what shouldn’t be when their eyes close unknowingly. Perhaps you planned it, your practice made perfect and your mind set to confrontation, maybe this time you sat down with the intention of stopping this. Or maybe it was simply an accident, but you’re here now. What else can you do but fight to survive?

The hellscape of your mind's torment might be familiar or maybe it’s a new flavor, but there’s something different this time. This time, there are seams; the dream around you is sewn together and you hold the scissors. Fight your way or will your way through, and you can pass between the swatches of your dreaming landscape. Maybe you find a friend or maybe you spot the retreating form of a little girl, turning a corner that isn’t there. Except you can see it now, the corridors of this place. You can follow her.

She leads you on a chase, her laugh a ricocheting titter of joy for the game. If you listen closely, however, there’s more to hear. The further you chase her, the more snatches of sound and sensation follow you as well. Grim melodies and snatches of song, searing heat, the taste of ash in your mouth, the sound of screaming that isn’t quite familiar. Your parents? Someone’s parents. Whispered voices. Snatches of words. ‘Amber.’ yelled, called, pleaded. Hide and seek was always fun.‘Ren’ a name that holds fondness, a feeling of a hundred tiny legs across skin- Stop! A command like a pick through your mind filled with anger and fear. Maybe it isn’t just your nightmares in here…

If you catch her, when you catch her, the game is over. Cornered and angry, Ava skitters up the wall, and across the ceiling to hang above you, neck at an impossible angle and clearly broken for it. “What’s wrong? Not having fun?”.


➥ Mod Notes
  • GENERAL - Bryn and Ava will both be available for NPC interaction and threading. Players who want to talk to ask Luna anything should respond to the Questions section of the OOC post. The mods will provide her answers to specific questions. Characters who die in the dreams will not die in real life, but they will experience severe fatigue and pain, and may retain scarring in the waking world from whatever killed them in the nightmares. Characters who die in real life… well, they're dead. Please bear this in mind as the game does not have an easy resurrection mechanic.

  • REALITY CHECK (16-25 October) - Everyone will be encouraged (but not technically required) to attend the lucid dreaming seminar. There will be a few of them over the course of three days. Characters can also pick up one of the Ludicio Eye Mask devices that will assist them in being able to enter a lucid state while dreaming. They don't always help, of course; they're mainly augmenting someone's abilities, provided they're following the guidance provided about how to enhance your lucid dreaming capabilities. Luna is clearly unaware that any non-humans are actually non-humans. She believes everyone is just really into Halloween around here.

    The nightmares this go around seem to be specifically focused on the Entities that your characters fear most and/or the ones they might be drawn to. You are welcome to make up a personalized hellscape for your character with anything you'd like in it. These are dreams! Go wild! Characters will fall randomly in and out of each other's dreams and personalized hellscapes. Those who have mastered lucid dreaming will be able to traverse dreams with more purpose, aiming to go to specific people's dreams or get themselves out of ones they don't want to be in. Lucid dream experts will also be able to shape the dreams that are meant for them. In their own nightmares, characters will feel a definitive pull toward one (or more over different nights) Entity and experience an intense fear of that Entity along with the desire to feed it, even if you want away from it.

    Feeding the Entities in the dreams and using the dreams to torment others will not necessarily lead to an Entity alignment… but it can do. Or it can set a character down a particularly destructive path in that vein. We would just ask that players remember that ADI is very anti-magic/Entities and anyone who is caught displaying powers/Entity alignment is liable to be mistrusted, watched, and potentially killed by the NPCs if they make themselves too much of an overt problem.

  • KNEAD HELP (18-25 October) - Characters may find bread gravestones with their own names, the names of people they have lost, and people they fear losing, as well as names of locals who have been confirmed dead due to eating Deathbed Bread. Some gravestones will bear the names and correct dates for people who are actually dead; others will refer to people who are still alive. Gravestone engravings may include characters back home in player characters' worlds, as well as player characters that have been dropped from the game. OOCly, the appearance of a person's bread gravestone is not a reliable indication of whether that person is actually dead or going to die. ICly, characters may or may not realize this fact at players' discretion.

  • NEVER SLEEP AGAIN (20-25 October) - As characters begin to gain control over their dreaming, they will find they can begin to track down Ava the Lullaby Girl. Confrontation can occur within the dream or, with enough willpower, a character can pull a piece of Ava into the waking world to try and kill her. Upon bringing her to the waking world, characters will find themselves faced with a teenaged version of the girl they were following, Ava’s actual body. She's not a little girl at all, but someone who's just entering into adulthood. Fights are likely to result in injuries ranging from mild to severe and can include death, please keep the setting’s death rules in mind for this. Threads with Ava can start in the dreams or already mid-fight in the waking world! It will take a concerted group effort to actually kill Ava. No one person will be able to do it themselves. Only a piece of her is pulled through or fought in the dreams that any person encounters.

    The morning after the last pieces are killed, Ava’s mangled corpse will be found on ADI’s grounds shortly after dawn, clutching a bloody, stuffed lamb in one hand.

lowficharm: (« [Doubt] mmm don't trust that)

martin blackwood | ota, i'll match your format!

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-10-19 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)
i. [reality check; asleep] now, my only goal is to see / and i'm always fast asleep

[This dream, as it begins, is not overwhelmingly terrifying. Honestly, it's quiet. Wherever you were, wandering between spaces, suddenly it's like the sound cuts out from some unseen force and you can almost hear the sound of your own heartbeat. It's fine. It's peaceful.

Pressing into it will lead you into the streets of a city- those who might recognize it think it looks like London, but nothing seems to be exactly in the right place if you know the structure. A fog permiates the road and sky, but it's able to be seen through enough to see the buildings before it clouds everything else out. The other issue, of course, is that there's simply no one else here- it seems like people have certainly been there, with the lights being on and the footsteps left on the street. But it's quiet. Even you don't seem to make much noise.

That is, until you hear it. If you step into a building- a shop, a restraunt, a library- you'll start to hear just bits of people. One or two words at first, but if you concentrate, a bit more. And they're all asking the same thing.

Help. Please, help me. Why is no one helping me?

The thing is- you can't see them. The more you look around the more you might here, but there's no one to bump into, no figure to find. On top of that, the more you explore, the more the fog seems to permiate everything- indoors, around corners, almost in your own head.

Eventually, it might choke you out. But if you're lucky and keep following the voices, you might find one man. Just one. Martin, hands in his pockets, all of his colors muted by the haze, looking up at a large building that seems almost entiely obscured.

You can talk to him, if you'd like to try. Hopefully he can hear you. But maybe no one can, anymore.]


ii. [reality check; awake] it takes more than strength to find / this peace of mind

[Hm! So guess who never wants to sleep again! If you guessed Martin and also probably everyone else, you're right, but gosh does Martin never want to sleep again. It's especially bad after learning what he knows now about Ava- why she's probably doing this, how it all must feel, how this will probably end- and it's just awful. He can't imagine anyone else is feeling very good about the whole thing either, and it's really making him want to turn inward. Give in. Give up.

But he knows he can't. So instead, he's prepared a fresh pot of tea, found some cookies, and is carrying a tray over to anyone who looks particularly unhappy or tired. Once he sets it down, he is not even asking if they want a cup, and starts pouring.]


Here. Looks like you could use the pick-me-up, hm?

iii. [knead help] he needs no army where he's headed 'cause he knows / that they're just ghosts

[As soon as he hears about the people stumbling out of the fog, about how you can't see and can't remember and people who died alone-- well, he knows what that is. He knows what it is all too vicerally thanks to the previous weeks, and it terrifies him. It's one thing to know you're dreaming, to be in control of a space, but to go back there willingly? To know it's around the corner and people are stepping in--

It takes him a little time to get it together, to convince himself. He leaves a note for Jon, telling him that if he doesn't see him by tonight, that's where he'll be. And he heads off with a torch in hand, to do this right this time. Break it his way.

So if you're wandering, lost among the gravestones, you may well hear a far-off voice or see a little speck of light somewhere among the clouds, and hear a voice calling out to you.]


Hey! Hey, if you can hear me-- tell me about your, your best friend. Or the person you love, okay? I want to hear about them.

iv. [wildcard] and they can't hurt him if he can't see them, oh

[Want something else with Martin not listed here? Hit me up at [plurk.com profile] cancerously, PM me, or hit me in the Discord and we can make it happen.]
friendsfordinner: (maybe? dunno there)

knead help

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2022-10-20 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Who says I've got someone I love? [ Hickey calls back, tenseness in his voice. His entire being right now is like a caged animal, a snake that could strike any moment. He had a bead on that Bryn fellow, he knew where he was, he could smell him...but then the fog rolled in and he found himself walking in circles, having lost the scent.

He fucking hates it. Avatar bullshit, that's what this is.

But there's a voice. There's Martin's voice. So Hickey turns all his senses, all his focus on that voice, trying to pinpoint precisely where he is.
]
lowficharm: (« [Notice] oh this is also too anime an)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-10-31 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't know precisely where Hickey is either, right now- that's the problem with liminal spaces, things that don't quite line up here or there. But he knows the presence, and can handle it a lot beter than most. To him, it's almost calming, despite how much he hates that thought.

Nevertheless, the outburst is a good thing no matter what it is. The mroe they talk, the more they can find each other.]


Even if they don't know you like them, you have to have people you're fond of.It doesn't-- doesn't need to be romantic, you know? People you like. People who, who make you happy.
friendsfordinner: (thinky think think)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2022-10-31 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Hickey frowns. People he's fond of. People he likes. Honestly, there are a lot fewer of them for him than others have. But a few names cross his mind. ]

Solomon Tozer. Bloke from home, the two of us got along well. A Royal Marine.

[ A pause before he yells out, ] What else do you want?
lowficharm: (« [Huffs] okay liSTEN)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-08 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Hm, that's-- that's a good question. Martin makes a little face, though Hickey thankfully can't see it.]

I just-- I don't really want anything, just-- just to hear about them. I, uhm-- like it when people talk about people they like! It really helps the atmosphere in here.

[oh that sounded stupid he's sure of it]
friendsfordinner: (quietly plan that mutiny)

[personal profile] friendsfordinner 2022-11-08 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
What the hell are you talking about? [ he laughs, with a shake of his head. Wow that sounds stupid.

But everything here feels...lighter? Like it's easier to see. Like the weight of everything isn't pressing down on his back.

Weird. Maybe talking works?
]

He had a friend back home that died in an accident. That's how we ended up bonding, both me and his friend were fucked over by command.
lowficharm: (« [Look] this is a really anime icon huh)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-13 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
[For a moment there, Martin really thinks he's going to have to find some way to explain this that doesn't sound completely insane, but thankfully Hickey keeps talking and he breathes a sigh of relief. On top of that, he thinks he might actually be starting to see his outline in the steam. That's progress- a lot of progress, and he smiles a bit as he continues his journey.]

I'm sorry to hear about that. Not that, you know, it's good anyone died. But it sounds like a really strong, uhm, s-shared experience. And I'm sure you protected each other after that, too.

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edalyn: (sad crouch)

Knead Help [cws: the prompt plus dead family members/children]

[personal profile] edalyn 2022-10-22 07:44 am (UTC)(link)
[Eda does her best to focus, to remember that this place is just messing with her. Does her best to ignore the weird bread-gravestones, even when they show names of people she knows are dead here... and thinks are dead at home.

She's expecting her sister, her parents, her school friends. She's braced for that, or at least she thinks she is. Each reminder makes everything feel a little more pointless. The names of people who she knows have vanished here hit a little differently, because she's hoping they're alright. Hunter's hurts the most.

She reminds herself this isn't proof.

Two names are the last straw. Luz Noceda and King Clawthorne. It's a cheap shot and she fucking knows it. She knows it shouldn't get to her. She hates the idea of letting it get to her.

But she's so damn tired. And even if the gravestones aren't proof, what hope is there? Hope is worse. Hope hurts more. She's so tired. She sits down by one of the stones. Loaves. Whatever. She doesn't know how long she's been leaning against it when she hears a distant voice.]


My... best friend? [She repeats, tilting her head slightly at the question. But there's an obvious answer. To be honest there's only one to answer to either question, though she isn't about to share that with a random voice. She lets out a faint little snort.]

That's easy. Only really ever had the one. Raine. Dunno if I'm still theirs... but it's not like we've got any other friends left. Guess I'm winning by default. [She might be trying to be funny, but she mostly sounds tired and bitter. Still, remembering they're here sparks... something. A little warmth.]
lowficharm: (« [Realize] it was you)

it's probably gonna be cws the whole way down

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-10-31 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Even getting a response is good, better than Martin is expecting sometimes. He can't precisely see everyone in here, but it's easier for him than most to sense the presence of others, to feel them among the steam. At least now there's a response, and if he keeps her talking then she's more likely to be seen.]

So what are they like? What's your favorite thing about them, like-- how they smile, or if they tell jokes?

[He's just going to prompt and follow the words, let him connect as she does.]
edalyn: (sad crouch)

[personal profile] edalyn 2022-11-03 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
[While she might not normally be inclined to keep sharing with a stranger, it did make her feel a little better to start talking. And anyway, she's only half-certain she didn't imagine the voice.]

Well, they've got a damn cute smile. But I'm usually the funny one. [There's a little pause before she decides to go on.]

How we met actually... when we were kids. I made 'em laugh. [What is her favorite thing, if she has to pick? Well, at least now she's thinking about something other than crushing despair.]
lowficharm: (« [Smile] unlike jon he actually smiles)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-10 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
[He can't help but feel a little smile tug at his own face as she speaks, letting his feet guide him as she talks. The space is liminal, after all. If he just keeps going, he'll find her when the time is right.]

So you've known each other a long time, then? I've never known someone that long that wasn't family. But I bet they feel like family to you now, if you've been through that much together.
edalyn: (dana!tired)

[personal profile] edalyn 2022-11-13 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[This gets a little snort, because for a while there they were her only real friend beside her sister. But she doesn't say this part, because she's not as bad about oversharing as she was back then. Even if this might be in her own head.]

Yeah. Well. They used to... [And it's possible her voice fades a bit again. Her mood drops as she remembers how much she fucked things up.]

Then again I guess not talking for twenty years makes them feel more like my family. [Okay, maybe she is just as bad about the oversharing, as long it's for a self-deprecating little gotcha directed at, well, herself.]
lowficharm: (« [Concern] im allowed to be worried)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-27 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[Somehow, this isn't unexpected. Martin's not sure he's ever known someone that didn't have some kind of issues with their family. It's just kind of like that, for some reason.]

Family isn't always about being blood related, you know. It's about who feels like the most important people to you. People that you love and cherish. Especially since real family isn't always nice to you, or... or you have the best of times with.

[He doesn't want to get into the weeds with that, but boy howdy, does he get it.]

It sounds like you still care about them though. Even if things were tough.

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the_archivist: (Blep)

Reality Check: Awake

[personal profile] the_archivist 2022-10-25 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[Jon looks up when Martin approaches and gives a small, exhausted smile. It has been a long few days. He wishes he could say that the dreams are uniquely terrible. But they aren't. He's lived with them for a long time, and they have long since ceased to be a source of horror to him.

That's probably the most horrific thing about them.]


Thank you, Martin. How are you holding up?
lowficharm: (« [Pensive] can we turn the world back?)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-10-31 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
[There's not a lot of use in lying to Jon, partially because he'd probably get ratted out by the giant eyeball beyond the veil and partially because Jon knows him well enough to tell when he's not giving effort to it. So instead of trying, he just sort of lets out this tight little laugh that makes it sound more like he's getting strangled than anything else.]

Well, I'm... holding! Alive, you know, still-- still here!

[He swallows, as if trying to compose himself a little more.]

Just... trying to help where I can, you know?
the_archivist: (Good Cows)

[personal profile] the_archivist 2022-10-31 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[Jon keeps looking at him, steady and unblinking and unconvinced.

After a moment, he holds out his hand towards Martin.]


I know. You do that well. You're always generous with people.

lowficharm: (« [Worry] why do you keep losing ribs)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-08 06:54 am (UTC)(link)
[Martin takes it almost too quickly and sinks into a nearby chair with a sigh.]

I'm trying. I mean, it-- someone needs to be trying, and--

[Okay, no, pull it back, he can do this.]

They don't know how to deal with it. A-Any of it. I can't just do nothing.
the_archivist: (Head bowed)

[personal profile] the_archivist 2022-11-08 06:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[Jon squeezes Martin's hand gently.]

You could easily do nothing. You choose not to.

And I know what you mean. it feels like watching people walk to the slaughter.

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aelwyn_aberration: (7dfd715488d67c74e0099d3c480658d1)

reality check (cw for suicidal ideation)

[personal profile] aelwyn_aberration 2022-10-29 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
[Aelwyn knows this feelings, the feeling that comes with pressing up against the glass of your enclosure and screaming and begging for anyone to see you. This petulant childish need for attention.

The fog blankets her, reminds her that nobody knows her and nobody will, and maybe that's right. Maybe she deserves this. To fade away, nobody noticing. It's only right, isn't it? It's only fair. Nobody has ever cared about her, so why would they start now, in this place?

She walks, aimlessly in the fog, her calls for help having long since been silenced, as she prepares to let it take her.

And then...

Who is that? She's trying to remember, so hard. She knows that face. Did she always forget? She wonders if he remembers either. Aelwyn's not sure she remembers her own name. It's not like it's hers.

She doesn't shout, but she does drift towards him, like a ghost that's forgotten what it wanted, and she lays a hand on his shoulder.]


...Martin.
lowficharm: (« [Tired] out in the fog)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-10-31 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
[It's not who he expects to see. Not that he's really expecting anyone- these streets are his, fundamentally, and they greet him like an old friend. It reminds him what he could be, if he only let go. The safety he could find in allowing himself nothingness, peace in the storm tearing through his waking world.

He feels her before he sees her, though. The hopelesness, the desire to simply disappear despite the beating, raging animal demanding to be seen, and when he feels her hand he doesn't startle. And yet, she still isn't who he expected, behind all that. He isn't sure why.]


... Aelwyn. I... you should probably get out of here. It's not safe.
failedpromise: (Sitting)

iii

[personal profile] failedpromise 2022-11-02 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
(She... it has to be fake. She knows that.

But still, when Martin shows up, he'll find her knelt in front of a gravestone. It doesn't even say a name on it, just S-117.

Is that what bothers her the most? Or is it that she knows even this is more of a memorial than what the UNSC will ever give him when he does finally die?

...Or is it the looming knowledge that, if he really is dead, it's almost certainly a result of her actions?

The sound of a familiar voice draws her attention, and she looks over.)


Martin? (Shocked, she tries to gather herself.) It's-I know it's not real. (Someone seems to be avoiding the question.)
lowficharm: (« [Quiet] i cant hurt anyone here)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-10 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
[At least she can see him. There's a lot to be said for her not being totally lost, that he doesn't have to pull her back like Jon pulled him. But right now, he's just somber, and gently lays a hand on her shoulder while he stands behind her.]

Of course it's not real, but-- you're still seeing it. It's still hard to see.

[He holds his hand to see if she'll take it to stand.]

I, uhm... I assume they're important to you. Whoever they are.
failedpromise: (BacktoChip)

[personal profile] failedpromise 2022-11-23 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
(Her connection to John runs deep enough that even here and now, separated from him likely permanently, she won't just forget that link. It's hard for her to get lost in that way as a result.

Making her fear for his life is much easier.

For a moment, she ignores Martin's hand.)


I think that's the worst part: nobody actually knows him. Even this is likely more than he'll ever get.

(She reaches up to take Martin's hand.)
lowficharm: (« [Concern] im allowed to be worried)

[personal profile] lowficharm 2022-11-28 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh thank goodness, she grabs it. Even after he helps her up, he won't let go unless she asks. That connection is important, and he knows it.]

If you remember him, he'll never be gone. And I'm sure other people will, even if they don't know his name. You... you tend not to notice how many people know you, even in a small way.
failedpromise: (Face)

[personal profile] failedpromise 2022-12-03 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
(She stands, and looks at him.)

He's not actually dead, Martin.

(She sighs. Then quieter to herself: ) At least, he better not be.

(She remembers how he floated lifelessly in space. Hopefully, the systems in his suit did their job and kept him from dying because of her mistakes.

She squeezes Martin's hand.)


So... do you know the way out of here?

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