Chapter Text
April 9th, ‘51 — 3 a.m. at ???
BURNT DEBRIS - Hey buddy. Pal. f*ckup. Listen here.
YOU - What? What are you--
BURNT DEBRIS - Enough wasting time. You need to wake up and you need to do it fast. Nothing that stays here ends well, and if there’s anything you know it might as well be that.
YOU - Where… am I? What’s going on? Can you tell me that??
BURNT DEBRIS - No no no, you need to listen . This is one of the few times I will tell you to WAKE UP. NOTHING ELSE HERE MATTERS. Don’t stay here longer than needs be, time is ticking by fast.
YOU - But… this has to matter.
BURNT DEBRIS - No it really does not.
YOU - But there has to be something here that has a use.
BURNT DEBRIS - Oh come on, you’re gonna regret this.
- Wake up.
- Stay.
BURNT DEBRIS - God… you f*cking fool.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - A blanket of brooding, eternal darkness; this is what surrounds you. You can’t see nor can you feel. We, the broken fragments of your consciousness, are all you can hear echoing in this vast, near-infinite hollow of your mind.
BURNT DEBRIS - Fine, you win! Hope you’re happy with what is to come.
- Eternal darkness? Like some type of abyss?
- Relax into it, this is your life now.
- [BURNT DEBRIS - GODLY] Move on, try to wake up.
-1 BURNT DEBRIS has given up
YOU- Eternal darkness? Like some type of abyss?
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Yes, “abyss” is an apt term. Not what they call it in the books, but fitting nonetheless. It is important to note, however, that this is no everyday abyss of eternal, brooding darkness. This is all-encompassing. It’s always existed in the back of your mind.
EXOSKELETON - And now it’s moved on from your mind to the whole of your soul. It fills your lungs, choking your will from your ‘self’. And it’s painfully slow, in a way that hurts you indescribably so.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - This is and always has been the messiah of your fears. And rather than facing it, get this! You’ve outran it so much that you are currently within it. It’s like you’ve run a lap around the whole globe, you’ve ended up right where you started.
EXOSKELETON - And yet being here is not new for you by any means. You can’t remember, but you feel a familiar dread making home in your throat.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - If it had a name, it would be on the tip of your tongue. But a true name doesn’t exist for this place. Only nicknames can be drawn.
EXOSKELETON - This emptiness crawls to your head, simultaneously burrowing deep to your core. It’s a two-sided parasite, and you hate it in its entirety. In fact, you hate all of this. All of this can burn.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - You hate not being able to use your senses, or merely feel your hands. You hate being left to your own thoughts and nothing more. You hate being faced with the realization that you truly cannot run forever.
And there’s so much more that you hate. So much so that there’s not enough time in the world to give you a bulleted list. But most of all you hate this dark. This utter, entire absence of life.
EXOSKELETON - You’re forced to simply be in a state in which you can’t. And this — this fear — this is your God .
- Is that why I can’t breathe? Because of this fear?
- Give me that list, I have time to spare.
- Cool. Very cool. And what else is here? Besides this ‘nothing’?
YOU - Is that why I can’t breathe? Because of this fear?
EXOSKELETON - If this was reality, maybe, sure. But here in the endless abyss? Where all laws are suspended? You couldn’t breathe if you tried. That’s the entire point.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - What part of this are you not understanding? Why can’t you get this through your now-metaphorical skull? You are currently stuck in a state outside of your own control.
EXOSKELETON - Not only that, but outside of reality’s control. You are left entirely to your own vices and nothing more.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Not even math can reach you here. Right now you are not yourself as much as you are an idea. An idea formatted by yourself, OF yourself, while in a state in which you are not currently yourself.
YOU - …Okay. That definitely went over my head. So what I’m getting here is that basically I’m screwed?
EXOSKELETON - In caveman speak, ‘you is in deep, deep doo-doo.’ So yes. Hope that answered your question.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Like I said, this is the messiah of your fears. You aren’t a wimp, this is some big boy sh*t to deal with.
EXOSKELETON - In terms of wimpiness, I beg to differ. But yes, you are indeed in some big boy sh*t . Deep, deep doo-doo. Deeeeep deep doo-doo.
- But where exactly am I?
- That’s enough, it’s *panic* time.
- Relax into it, this is your life now.
- [BURNT DEBRIS - GODLY] Move on, wake up.
-1 BURNT DEBRIS has given up
YOU - But where exactly am I?
EXOSKELETON - In deep, deep doo-doo…
CEREBRAL REMAINS - What a silly question. You know precisely where you are.
EXOSKELETON - In fact, you already said it.
YOU - No, the closest location I got was somewhere in ‘deep deep doo-doo’ just now... And please don’t say that again.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - This is the abyss, or at least that’s the nickname your subconscious decided upon. This is the metaphysical incarnation of what you’ve always been. Or, more specifically, this is what you’ve always lacked.
EXOSKELETON - The abyss has followed you throughout your entire life. It’s the wake behind your step, a causation of ills behind you. It’s only now, when your senses can’t deter you, that you’re finally, truly and entirely encompassed in it.
- No. This can’t be all. There’s something more. Something is wrong here.
- Relax into it, this is your life now.
- It’s REALLY freak out time now. Freaking is the ONLY option.
- [BURNT DEBRIS - GODLY] Move on, wake up.
-2 BURNT DEBRIS has entirely left you to your own vices.
YOU - No. This can’t be all. There’s something more. Something is wrong here.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - What’s wrong here is YOU. YOU are the cause of this. You feel it deep down, the knowledge dawning in your figurative gut. But even here in this dark, you’ll try to outrun that acknowledgment until the day you can run no longer.
Isn’t that right? You pathetic little boy.
EXOSKELETON - Oh, but I like to run! And you do too. So run boy run! Run until your legs burn off, ‘til your flesh melts into the dirt in which you came from. And, according to the Innocents, in which you will inevitably returnnn.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - You know you want to. It’s been so long since you’ve ran. Your very essence cries for it. It begs. It pleads.
EXOSKELETON - You would be oh so much more happy if you ran!! But remember, my dear, pathetic boy. Burn into us, and we will burn into you.
YOU - I don’t understand… what is happening?
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Burn into us, and we will burn into you…
SENSORY (HEARING) [Medium: success] - Suddenly there’s a noise. A real tangible noise meets your ears. It’s a sound from the physical realm, apart from the figurative.
- Finally, thank god.
- Oh boy here we go.
SENSORY (HEARING) - The sounds of your own pounding mind are still much louder, but something is clearly coming through: a repetitive, rhythmic beeping.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Don’t waste this opportunity, old chum. Run while you still can.
- Focus on the beeping.
- Fall back into the dark.
SENSORY (HEARING) [Trivial: success] - The beeping continues in a fairly steady motion.
DATABASE [Easy: success] - A heartbeat monitor. You’ve heard this before.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - Your fingers slowly twitch as you come back from the abyss. A flimsy sheet of parchment greets your touch.
MERRYWEATHER - A small thing that gives you hope.
BLOODY WATERS - A man-made thing that gives you hope.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: success] - It is your first confirmation that you’ve entered the real world.
ASSUMPTION - It’s stretched out beneath your weakened corpse of a body, resting between you and some sort of uncomfortable bed-like contraption.
YOU (now awake) - You gasp, pushing yourself up from the abyss you fell into. Your eyes are flooded with colors: hazes of orange, yellow and blue. And your head pounds, each pang aching like there’s eons of tension behind it.
ASSUMPTION - The thin lock you had protecting yourself from this mental pain has either been broken, or picked.
ROCKET SCIENCE - Or this is something physical. Ever think about that?
VOLTA DO MAR - With our luck, probably both. But let’s move on. No more thoughts for now.
VIGOR - At least not when every thought enters your head like a brick.
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Formidable: failure] - You blink rapidly, but your sight is far too abstract for you to make sense of your surroundings. Your eyes need time to adjust before any acute observations can be drawn.
- [NOTIONS - CHALLENGING] Is that… is that the headless FALN rider?! (Attempt to make sense of your sight… via imagination?)
-1 Your eyes still need time to adjust
-1 No more thoughts, not now - Run your hands across the space around you.
- I miss the darkness, I want it to take me back.
SENSORY (TOUCH) - In addition to the parchment you feel a thin silicone cord. Your fingers wrap around it, holding it the same way you would as a pen. You trace its path up and up until…
You feel flesh. Cold, shivering in response to your touch.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - It’s yours.
LUNGS - A lump forms in your throat.
ASSUMPTION - This is yours.
YOU - I think I’m going to puke…
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Challenging: success] - Speaking of puke, what first appeared as Picasso’s throw up has finally blurred together into a general off-white! You can finally, maybe, just about make out where you are. You might also be able to figure out what’s in your palms.
VIGOR - And your head hurts a little less. Still feels like hell, but some of the pressure has ceded. Adjusting to the light certainly has its tiny benefits.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - But it’s important to note that your vision hasn’t cleared up completely. It’s more like each color simply decided to stop bouncing around you, and instead agreed to rest in a general section of the room. Everything is still blurry, and as a general rule of thumb it seems like the closer an object is the more smudged it gets.
- [SENSORY (SIGHT) - HEROIC] Figure out what’s in your hand.
+1 You’ve felt it.
+1 You’re in a room with a heartbeat monitor. - [MOTORWAY SOUTH - GODLY] Figure out exactly where you are from your surroundings.
- [NOTIONS - MEDIUM] Just make something up.
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Heroic: success] - Like I said, everything’s still blurry. However, you can make out the outline of several cords weaving in and out of the crevices in your arms, each transporting some type of fluid.
ROCKET SCIENCE - Delores Dei, all these cords are entering you.
YOU - I… don’t know how that makes me feel.
LUNGS - I’ll tell you how. It makes you feel sick . You literally have to look away. For some reason, you can’t stomach it.
VIGOR - Your right, unchained hand wraps around the cords. Your fingers reach over completely, nails digging into the flesh of your own palm.
NOTION - These tubes are slithering in and out of you like worms feasting on a meal.
YOU - Ugh… I don’t like these metaphors..
EXCALIBUR - Neither do you like these cords. Look at them, how they trap you!
BLOODY WATERS - The way each cuts into your skin, sucking themselves full of blood you never agreed to give. It goes against free will.
EXCALIBUR - And you’re just sitting here, watching it happen.
BURNT DEBRIS - Motionless, unmoving.
NOTION - Actually, how long have they been in you? Just how much blood have they taken without your own consent? You should stop it, and you finally can. Your first action now awake should be to stop these evil, evil games.
INHIBITION - No, your first action should be to stop yourself . Get control. You know these have been and likely still are keeping you alive someway somehow. Don’t rip them out. You won’t like what happens.
DATABASE [Medium: success] - I mean, come on, this is literally an IV for god’s sake.
BLOODY WATERS - No, these are COWARD decisions. Be strong, be MIGHTY. AND GO ON O’ MIGHTY ONE, GO ON AND RIP THEM OUT WITH YOUR TEETH!!!
NERVOUS SYSTEM - Adrenaline floods your veins at the mere notion of that thought.
- Rip them off.
- [BLOODY WATERS - FORMIDABLE] Rip them off-- WITH YOUR TEETH!!!
+1 The urge to strike out against injustice floods your veins - [VOLTA DO MAR - EASY] Wait until your vision clears to get a handle of yourself.
BURNT DEBRIS - Jesus, thank god. I was actually preparing for the end there.
BLOODY WATERS - Wow. You chose the wimp option? Okay I see how it’s gonna be!
VOLTA DO MAR [Easy: success] - A shaky breath in, then another back out. Another in, and another out…
LUNGS - This intense focus on your breathing causes you to cough for a moment, but after this short fit you’ve calmed down to the point where you probably won’t be tempted to rip an IV straight out of your arm.
- Uh… what the f*ck was that??
- [MOTORWAY SOUTH - GODLY] Figure out exactly where you are from your surroundings.
- [NOTIONS - MEDIUM] Just make something up.
YOU - Uh… what the f*ck was that??
BLOODY WATERS - That was your desire to break free from these wretched chains, o’ mighty one.
EXCALIBUR - More like o’ wimp. O’wimpy mc’f*ckface.
BURNT DEBRIS - No. That was one of your many repressed urges.
INHIBITION - One of many such urges that you must learn how to contain AGAIN.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Orrr you can just not contain us. You can let us go free reign! You can live out ALL your mental fantasies in, *gasp*, realityyyyy .
INHIBITION - Yeahhhh no. We are not doing that. Not in the slightest. Not. At. All.
- [MOTORWAY SOUTH - GODLY] Figure out exactly where you are from your surroundings.
- [NOTIONS - TRIVIAL] Just make something up.
MOTORWAY SOUTH [Godly: failure] - Yeah… hate to break it to you, but you are NOT figuring out geographic coordinates and what not from this haze.
ASSUMPTION - Yeah, sure, but you CAN try to piece these shapes together. Formulate some ideas. Get your mind moving and all.
ROCKET SCIENCE - Oh hell yeah, this’ll be as easy as a RC-4 form.
MERRYWEATHER - …You could’ve just said as easy as pie, but whatever.
YOU - I’m not even going to ask what an RC-4 form is--
DATABASE [Godly: success] - An RC-4, otherwise known as a “Revacholian Certification of Appropriate Allowance form,” is a mandatory Coalition form required to be submitted every other tax period so that the authorities can log your average income, monetary benefits, and monetary deficits. Many people despise these, only filling them out because it is necessary to keep a job. Not you, however. You happen to even look forward to these forms. The dates are even marked 2 weeks in advance on your calendar, with small little smiley faces and stars doodled off in the corners. These forms are needed by the Coalition to--
INHIBITION - Yeah. I’m cutting you off there.
YOU - Wait wait, slow down. Revacholian? The Coalition?? Can you back up and explain those things? They sound… important.
DATABASE [Heroic: failure] - Uh… ERROR 474: NO DATA CAN BE FOUND FOR KEYWORDS ‘Revacholian’ or ‘Coalition.’ Please try again later. In the meantime, I found thirty-seven results for ‘pie.’ Starting with banana, then meringue--
VOLTA DO MAR - No, stay on task here. We were about to observe our surroundings. Our disgustingly blurry surroundings . And god, I really hope we can fix that…
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Trivial: success] - Uhhh… Well there’s a plant on your bedside table. The blooms are white and bell shaped, each downturned as well.
- Touch it.
- [DATABASE - FORMIDABLE] Do I know what type of plant this is?
- And what else is here? (Move on)
SENSORY (TOUCH) - You tap one of the leaves and drops of water cascade down. Half land on your hand while the others fall straight to the dirt.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Trivial: success] - These plants have been freshly watered, someone else must have been here just recently. They aren’t here now, however. We would have seen them move.
- [DATABASE - EASY] Do I know what type of plant this is?
- And what else is here? (Move on)
YOU - Do I know what type of plant this is?
DATABASE [Easy: failure] - Hmmm… bluebells perhaps?
VISAGE CACHÉ - Oh! I know the meaning of this one!! Bluebells symbolize everlasting love !! Ohhhh, someone’s in love with youuuu.
NOTION - Oh my god WHO???
YOU - No idea. It’s actually hard for me to think at all…
DATABASE [Impossible: failure] - …
VOLTA DO MAR - Wait .
ROCKET SCIENCE - Oh god .
BURNT DEBRIS - You can’t even remember yourselfcan you?
VOLTA DO MAR - Ohhhh sh*t.
MERRYWEATHER - No wonder you can’t figure out where you are, it all makes sense now!! Wait… that’s not a good thing.
YOU - L-listen, I’m sure I can! Maybe if I just…
- Look at your hands.
- [DATABASE - IMPOSSIBLE] Think… but really hard.
-1 thirty-seven results for ‘pie’
-1 and zero results for ‘you’ - FREAK OUT FREAK OUT FREAK OUT.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - LEGENDARY] Stop and breathe. Take this all in with a calm, practical mind.
+1 You paused instead of ripping out the IV
SENSORY (SIGHT) - You raise them towards you, hoping their appearance strikes a bell.
DATABASE [Impossible: failure] - …No results for ‘you.’ No results for ‘you.’ Still no results for ‘you…’
POSSIBLY HANDS? - You’re greeted with fingers entirely unfamiliar. If you weren’t currently wiggling them right in front of your eyes, you never would have guessed they were yours.
ASSUMPTION - …Maybe that’s just because they’re blurry? Something has to strike a bell.
FRAGILE HANDS - You move your hands further away, squinting to try and get a better picture. You also rub them together, relieved that you get more info from touch.
SENSORY (TOUCH) - They are calloused, but thin. Delicate almost, with thin fingers partnered by visible, greenish veins. They dance around each appendage, branching off into the pad of your hand.
VOLTA DO MAR - It’s a dance that doesn’t strike any bells.
MERRYWEATHER - Aha, strike any blue bells if you may?
VOLTA DO MAR - No, NO puns. This is bad. Like really bad.
- Okay so, let me get this straight, I truly can’t remember anything?
- [DATABASE - IMPOSSIBLE] Think… but really hard.
-1 thirty-seven results for ‘pie’
-2 Still no results for ‘you…’ - FREAK OUT FREAK OUT FREAK OUT.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - LEGENDARY] Stop and breathe. Take this all in with a calm, practical mind.
+1 You paused instead of ripping out the IV
YOU - Okay, so, let me get this straight, I truly can’t remember anything ?
DATABASE - No. Nothing. You don’t remember this room, nor your hands. Nothing of your past, and nothing of who you are now. Reality in general is absurd to you, like this is all a lucid dream you haven’t yet woken up from.
NOTION [Challenging: success] - What if… you don’t have a past? What if you’ve just been born, and that’s why this is all new?
ASSUMPTION - What?? That’s absurd. Look at these hands, these don’t look like a baby’s! If anything you must be a weathered old man.
VIGOR - I agree. You certainly feel like one.
NOTION - Your hands? Sure. But what about the rest of you? What if you’re actually a baby that’s born with a medical disorder that just gives you pre-weathered hands? Isn't that a thing? Prenatal weathered hand syndrome??
DATABASE [Medium: failure] - Zero results for ‘prenatal weathered hands,’ but there were also zero results for ‘this reality,’ sooo…
YOU - Oh sh*t, then it’s possible?
INHIBITION - No, it’s obviously not. I mean, why would you even be talking to yourself if you were a--
VISAGE CACHÉ - OH MY GOD WHAT IF YOU ARE???
VOLTA DO MAR [Medium: failure] - You try to keep it together, but you just have to check. Your weathered hands immediately rush towards your face patting it down, making sure you are not a baby with a syndrome.
INHIBITION [Legendary: failure] - Goddamnit, I SWEAR.
SENSORY (TOUCH) - Your skin is not sagging per se, but you do feel the definite imprint of wrinkles across your forehead, and crinkles near your eyes. This is indeed not the face of a baby with pre-weathered hands.
NOTION - Awhhh…
SENSORY (TOUCH) - You also find some sort of cloth or bandage over your left eye.
ROCKET SCIENCE - That would help to partially explain why it’s stupid hard for you to see.
MERRYWEATHER - You should… look into it. Haha. Get it?
NOTION - But, still… something strikes you as off. You seem older for your years, and I know there must be an answer to that. Hmmm, what if you’re a baby with pre-weathered hands AND pre-wrinkly face syndrome??
INHIBITION - No, don’t egg this on. It’s already been hard enough for me to keep you alive with only 2 minutes of consciousness on the line.
- Oh god, what if I am a baby?? (Opt in)
- This is stupid. I’m just a regular guy. (Opt out)
YOU - Oh god, what if I am a baby??
[THOUGHT GAINED: Pre-wrinkled face and pre-weathered hand syndrome]
INHIBITION - Am I just useless to you?? Seriously, do you ever think???
LUNGS - Something strikes you that being a baby is not the most implausible thing that has happened to you in this world.
DATABASE [Legendary: failure] - And yet again, however, no specifics come to mind.
VOLTA DO MAR - Okay. Good to know. We are really getting somewhere here with this whole forgotten reality thing. Good job. You’ve earned my genuine applause. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
- FREAK OUT FREAK OUT FREAK OUT.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - LEGENDARY] Stop and breathe. Attempt to take this all in with a calm, practical mind.
+1 You paused instead of ripping out the IV
VOLTA DO MAR [Legendary: success] - Stop for a moment or you will get nowhere. Just take a deep, deep breath… Again . In and out…
LUNGS - Oh thank god. Yes, breathe. You were forgetting to do that again and your face was turning blue.
NOTION - Speaking of that, you still haven’t seen your face. That’s something you should likely do here soon.
VOLTA DO MAR - But not now. Now it’s time to breathe , to settle yourself down from this self-inflicted madness.
ASSUMPTION - Thank god. Lets collect the info here.
VOLTA DO MAR - Yes, indeed. Now that you can think, you should put your mind to work on practical things.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: success] - Okay, well.. Granted there’s an IV, a heart monitor, and a heavy death-like smell in the air, I’m fairly certain you’re in a hospital of some kind.
VIGOR - That would certainly help to explain why you feel so lethargic. You’re in here for a reason.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Godly: failure] - But as for where? When? What, how, or even why? Yeah no, I’ve got nothing. There’s no way you can figure that out.
YOU - No no, maybe I can. Let's run through all the data. There has to be something.
DATABASE - Okay, quick question, are we including or ignoring the pie--
SENSORY (HEARING) [Challenging: success] - Wait. There’s a sound to your left. Something is moving outside that closed door.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Legendary: failure] - sh*t, a weird *clip clop clip*?
NOTION - A small horse, perhaps? But why would a small horse be in a hospital? Aren’t there separate horse hospitals?
MERRYWEATHER - … horsepitals ?
ASSUMPTION [Easy: failure] - And what type of plant has a heartbeat?? Why did we just gloss over that part again???
VOLTA DO MAR - Because the heartbeat monitor is obviously connected to--
VISAGE CACHÉ - Because they’re bluebells! Remember the whole everlasting love thing? Love goes hand in hand with hearts! So it’s like a romantic gesture, only made out of a horrifying reality. Eugh, plants with hearts…
NOTION - Oh sh*t…
VOLTA DO MAR - Oh my god please shut up. Just drop it, and the noise as well. Why should you even care about any of this? Let’s figure out where you are first.
NOTION - But that noise could be anything . You very well could be in danger if you don’t check it out now.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - The more you think about it, the more your hairs stand on edge. Anything could be out there from a fly to the headless FALN rider.
VOLTA DO MAR - God, not him again…
- [DATABASE - FORMIDABLE] And is this ‘headless FALN rider’ someone to be feared?
- This topic is stupid. Let's think about what I should actually do (move on).
YOU - And is this ‘headless FALN rider’ someone to be feared?
DATABASE [Formidable: success] - Oh yes, very much so. The ‘headless FALN rider’ is a man that has been on the hunt for his hat for the last hundred years — or for his head, given your preferred interpretation. Each sighting alternates his type of stead, but one thing that they all share in common is his attire: a black and white FALN tracksuit.
He is most commonly sighted at night, causing many to fear even mentioning his name after 19:00.
ASSUMPTION - Feared by many children possibly, but definitely not by sane adults. It’s basically all just a stupid urban legend spread by teens and figure manufacturers that are in desperate need of cash.
NOTION - But no light shines through our window, and you sense that it’s night. What if, just what if, the headless FALN rider is out .
BLOODY WATERS - Or even worse, what about those corrupt figure manufactures?! Who knows if they’re sneaking around the corner, eager to pitch you a “one-of-a-kind figure that you’ll *never* see again” when you most definitely, certainly will. Those manipulative scumbags…
VOLTA DO MAR - Or that noise could be neither, and we could be at best wasting time, or at worst throwing ourselves into constant paranoid loops. Please, at the very least focus on one thing at a time.
- Return to the question of your past.
- Return to the question of your past (but specifically to the part regarding the everlasting love).
- Return to the question of your surroundings.
- Go explore the sound.
YOU - Right now this sound is more important. Who knows if it’s a danger, regardless if it’s the headless FALN rider or not.
ASSUMPTION - Very true.
ROCKET SCIENCE - Yes, you are only being safe.
VIGOR - And you begin to swing your legs over the edge.
INHIBITION - But then, you stop.
LUNGS - This is a bad idea, it weighs heavy in the air.
CORPUS - Your feet dangle purposelessly over the edge.
SENSORY (HEARING) - And the *clip clop clip* continues to ring in your ears.
VOLTA DO MAR - It’s small, quiet. If it is a danger, the noise is still a ways off. You can still reconsider, and trust me you really should.
BLOODY WATERS - Yes, you should! You need to make getting up a STATEMENT. A power move if you will.
EXCALIBUR - Indeed, o’wimpy mc’f*ckface. You need an *oomph* in your step! An act to gather confidence before you face that creepy noise. And, more importantly, you need to convince me to stop calling you a wimp.
NOTION - Ooo good thinking! If we’re confident enough, the headless FALN rider might piss his FALN pants.
VOLTA DO MAR - Not what I meant at all . Both of these are bad ideas, but the *oomph* one worst of all.
- [VIGOR - CHALLENGING] Continue standing up.
-1 This is a bad idea. - [EXCALIBUR - HEROIC] Continue standing up but with *oomph*.
-2 This is a REALLY bad idea. - Reconsider your options.
YOU - f*ck it. Let's get up and make a point.
BLOODY WATERS - Yes… f*ck YES.
VIGOR - With energy you really shouldn’t have, you practically jump to your feet. You wobble and begin to fall forward…
EXCALIBUR [Heroic: success] But you catch yourself with ease.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Smooth, mon amour. Run a hand through your hair.
CHARISMA - You do exactly that, and messy mop on your head cheers you on. You are cool to the max .
+1 MORALE
YOU - f*ck yeah.
LUNGS - You might be a baby with pre-weathered hands, you may have been fighting back an untraceable urge to cry this whole time, and you may have an oddly strong and random fixation on pie, but by god you’re standing. Right now your weak ass is standing, and at that standing strong.
INHIBITION - I can’t believe this…
VISAGE CACHÉ - Oh my god, WE’RE DOING IT.
EXCALIBUR - YOU'RE ON TOP OF THE WORLDDDDD!!! OH YES, O’MIGHTY ONE!!!!
SPACE RACE - A small step for man, a big TAKE THAT at mankind.
BLOODY WATERS - Headless FALN rider who??? Take this, business scum!! Suck on this!!! On my f*cking toes!!!
VISAGE CACHÉ - …Okay. Let’s reword that.
VIGOR [Challenging: failure] - But before you can, your knees give out beneath you.
EXCALIBUR [Godly: failure] - I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT-- Wait, what?
VIGOR - And realizing too late, life goes in slow-mo. You stumble forward with the least of resistance.
BURNT DEBRIS - Like a building made of sand.
VOLTA DO MAR - Oh god.
YOU - Oh f*ck.
CORPUS - You hit the floor, and hit it hard .
ASSUMPTION - A cold kiss farewell to the last few minutes you’ve miraculously survived.
BURNT DEBRIS - All of which you’ve just *miraculously* screwed up. This has been a speed-run of sorts.
SPACE RACE - …a speed-run we probably won?
BURNT DEBRIS - Sure. In a sick sort of way.
SENSORY (HEARING) - With medical equipment clanging beside you, the world turns black once more. It’s like this was destined.
BURNT DEBRIS - An inevitable return.
YOU - Ughhh…
CEREBRAL REMAINS - …
CEREBRAL REMAINS - …
CEREBRAL REMAINS - There is only silence. What more do you want?
- What do I see?
- What do I hear?
- What do I feel?
- f*ck you. Just let me wake up.
EXOSKELETON - Black, black, and… oh look, more black! No need to expect a change of scenery anytime soon. You ain’t gonna get it.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - And you already know where you are, so there’s no need to ask. But you’re back again so soon! You must love what you see.
- What do I hear?
- What do I feel?
- f*ck you. Just let me wake up.
YOU - f*ck you. Just let me wake up.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Awhhh, but this is your home. This is where you belong, and all the inheritance left in your name. You don’t want to leave this behind, do you?
EXOSKELETON - But you don’t even remember your name, do you?
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Oh, but this could be good. No name means no past.
EXOSKELETON - He’ll remember if he tries hard enough. But for now: make one up.
- Delores Dei.
- Harry DuBois.
- Kras Mazov.
- Archer O’Malley.
- I’m not playing these games.
YOU - I’m not playing these games
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Oh, but you areee!
EXOSKELETON - Make. One. Up.
YOU - Gh…
- Delores Dei.
- Harry DuBois.
- Kras Mazov.
- Archer O’Malley.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - ‘Archer,’ a fine name. One given to those usually of Sursene descent. Not that you would remember where that is, of course! And it’s not like you could go there. At least not here in the abyss.
EXOSKELETON - But something about that name strikes a chord within you. A sharp, out-of-tune E. If you could breathe, you’d have choked. Or winced until it left you.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - But the chord doesn’t leave you, and you can’t recall why. You certainly wish you could.
EXOSKELETON - Soon enough, you’ll wish you couldn’t.
- Tell me more about the name Archer O’Malley.
- Tell me more about Sur-La-Clef.
- Tell me more about anything besides those two.
- Tell me more about shutting up. Just let me leave.
YOU - Tell me more about the name Archer O’Malley.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Oh, where to start? At a voice in the wind, or with a hand on your thigh? Those gestures, a countless amount, cut straight through your soul. There’s too to choose.
A train, a bush, a gallon of red-stained fuel. A dance too complicated for you to do without his help, and a laugh so joyous you’d join in — if only you’d have let yourself.
EXOSKELETON - And you wish you’d have let yourself. It’s one of your biggest regrets.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - That and the pain of a breath ever so quick, gone in a feather’s fall. Happiness clouded by regret. Days ruined by warped memories. A past so intricately woven, that it’s begun to fall apart. This is what comes to mind when you think of the name Archer O’ Malley.
But of course, all of that pales to the memory of his eyes. His eyes — these were what stood out. For years they were what stood out. And yet, they’re what you have least recollection of. You only remember their importance through the way your heart beat, nothing of how they looked.
All that comes to mind is the blinking of the sun as it sets for the final time. An apocalyptic sundown. And as for why? You have no clue.
- Tell me more about Sur-La-Clef.
- Tell me more about anything else.
- Tell me more about shutting up. Just let me leave.
YOU - Tell me more about shutting up. Just let me leave.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Awhh, you’re no fun!
EXOSKELETON - But you’ll remember before you know it. A true remembrance, more than the airs. Those legs can’t run forever. And when they stop, you’ll be doomed.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Run until then, Archer O’Malley. Continue to make the worst of your life until there is nothing left to break.
EXOSKELETON - And then we will come.
CEREBRAL REMAINS - Giving you a solution to despair.
EXOSKELETON - But until then, we’ll leave you. Plunging you into state just above sleeping, and yet nothing more.
???, ‘51 — ??? at ???
YOU - Your eyes blink open, for only the second time that comes to mind. You have no idea how long you’ve been out.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Trivial: success] - But you can estimate a time between 5 minutes and 5 days.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - The LEDs seem brighter. So much brighter that you momentarily have to cover your eyes.
ASSUMPTION [Easy: success] - And you figure given your fall, you’re likely connected to more cords.
YOU - f*cking hell…
NERVOUS SYSTEM - You shudder at the thought.
EXCALIBUR - Everything is double the intensity of when you were last awake, from the mental strain to the physical. Honestly, it’s torture. But you limp through it nonetheless.
BLOODY WATERS - Like you must.
VOLTA DO MAR - As you must.
BURNT DEBRIS - Until there is nothing left to do.
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Easy: success] - Once your eyes adjust to the light, you look around at your surroundings. All the same, except this time you see a man slumped in a chair. You hadn’t even noticed the chairs when you were last awake — but then again, chairs can be unnoticable. This man you see here is not unnoticeable by any means.
CADAVER-LIKE MAN - You confuse him for a dead body in the split second you see him. Mousy brown hair rests on his shoulders; shorter in the front, a bit longer in the back, all caked with a thin layer of gel in an attempt to be slicked back.
ASSUMPTION - And yet despite this half-hearted attempt, so many pieces stick out you sincerely wish he went for the full grunge look instead.
NOTION - I wonder if you’ve gone for the full grunge look. Your hair certainly felt messy enough when you ran your hand through it last time.
CHARISMA - But in a cool way. Not a half-slicked back way.
ASSUMPTION - Yes, there is a difference.
CADAVER-LIKE MAN - He has no response to your thoughts, nor to your squinting eyes. His head sinks into his own shoulder, heaving up and down with each of his slow breaths. And with each heave the hat on his head tilts forward, fully covering where are presumably his own eyes. His clothes are disco-inspired: a green blazer, stained yellow bell-bottoms, and an abstractly colored tie.
His outfit is… something to say the least. But it all highlights the out-of-placeness that is his odd looking hat — the only part of him not ripped straight from the ‘30s.
ASSUMPTION - Oh god, that’s a BOIADEIRO hat. This man has no sense of style, and with each article it grows more and more clear.
VISAGE CACHÉ - And yet, it’s endearing. He’s like a kid that just got into his parents’ wardrobe. He’s so lost it’s adorable, it makes him a little… cute .
INHIBITION - No, it makes him weird . We are NOT falling for a man with a mullet, cowboy hat, and some freaky tie.
SENSORY (SMELL) - And even from here you smell an odd sort of odor. Something alike to acetone, it shares that same sharpness.
ROCKET SCIENCE - And he’s just sitting there, collapsed as if…
ASSUMPTION - Passed out from drink.
NOTION - No, from crying due to grief.
- He’s a drunk.
- He’s here for me.
- Clear your throat and ask him directly.
LUNGS - You open your mouth ready to speak, but rather than words something resembling a wheeze emits from your lips.
REFLEX/IMPULSE - You gasp for air, only to realize you can’t.
VIGOR [Medium: failure] - And you’re once again thrown into a fit, so much more violent than before.
CORPUS - Your lungs feel shattered. It’s like a gear is broken inside.
YOU - Oh god, this is bad.
LUNGS - Bad is an understatement. This could kill you.
CORPUS - Each cough sends your body rattling, like some snake this boiadeiro came to rassle. But with each shake, your coughs only worsen — it’s a dreadful, awful cycle.
BURNT DEBRIS - A sisyphean cycle. One you can’t break free of.
EXCALIBUR [Godly: failure] - And so you don’t break free, you simply give in.
CORPUS - You curl into a fetal position, practically throwing yourself into pillows filled more with air than fluff.
LIMP-FILLED PILLOWS - You claw at them, begging, please, please, please.
CORPUS - Please let me live.
LUNGS - Please let me breathe.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - Please stop it all.
LIMP-FILLED PILLOWS - But they do not respond. Your grip is in vain, only greeted by cold cotton.
YOU - This is it. This is the end.
BURNT DEBRIS - And what a fittingly depressing end. Something you can only accept.
CORPUS - And so with eyes shut tight, it only worsens.
YOU - No, there has to be something I can do. Something to calm me down, or even to distract myself??
DATABASE - Usually when things like this happen, you dig your fingernails into your palm to distract yourself from the pain or emotion you can’t control.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - …Just like what you did with the I.V. Your hands still hurt.
INHIBITION - It gives you a sense of control. It’s a feeling you are in charge of, a pain that drags you down to earth.
VIGOR - But you can’t right now, be it as much as you try. This shaking spread to your hands, and has easily overwhelmed your motorics.
-1 MORALE
YOU - No…
BURNT DEBRIS - Shhh, just let it end. Fighting will only prolong it longer.
YOU - No this can’t be it. This cannot. I won’t accept it.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Yeah! Where’s the action? That cinematic explosion? Where’s that moment where specks of ash coat your body, and you choke one final message to the world?
NOTION - We need that moment where you say something cool and resounding like, “Farewell, world of sorrow. I rest in your hearts through my death, while you’ll pretend to ignore your lies from my life.”
ROCKET SCIENCE - Not every ending has to involve an explosion.
INHIBITION - And despite the time you put in to come up with that, nor do you have to get back at the world for your repressed memories of exclusion and fear.
BURNT DEBRIS - It won’t do anything anyways. Society abandoned you long ago.
VOLTA DO MAR - On a shorter note, this doesn’t have to be your death. Take another breath in. Quit being dramatic and focus…
- Let it go once and for all.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - EASY] Gasp for air.
LUNGS - And then with one final, body shakingly strong wheeze, the fit ends as quickly as it began. It was short, yet brutal. It left wreckage in its wake.
VOLTA DO MAR [Easy: success] - There. Now breathe. This time slow and steady. Any quick starts and you might not stop.
CORPUS - But you survived this time. A close call.
YOU - Yes I survived, but at what cost?
VIGOR - At the cost that any strength you woke up with has by now long left you. You can feel it everywhere, from your arms to your knees.
LUNGS - And from now on you realize, it’ll be just a little harder for you to breathe.
-1 HEALTH
YOU - Ugh. Great.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: failure] - But wait… if you stopped coughing, then why on earth are you still shaking?
CADAVER-LIKE MAN…? - Opening your eyes, you realize the answer is obvious. This man has been shaking you with a power you never could have assumed from his earlier state. He is no cadaver, more like a man of steel, moving with a force disordered yet determined.
Noticing your steady breaths, he finally stops the shaking. But his hands continue to grip your shoulders. He analyzes your face, quickly darting from the left to the right. He’s close, very close, perhaps in an attempt to gauge your expression.
ASSUMPTION [Medium: success] - Your coughing must have woke him from whatever slumber he was in. And judging from his demeanor, I’d bet hastily so.
BLANK SLATE [Legendary: success] - And I can confirm that right now, he’s showing more expression than you. Despite facing death head on, not even your eyebrows are co*cked. There’s no way he can read your face.
NOTION - But somehow, you feel like he can…
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: success] - Aha, his stupid shaking must have long prolonged your fit.
ASSUMPTION - f*cking dumbass.
YOU - What was he even thinking ?
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - There’s desperation in his eyes, quickly giving way to shame once noticing the tiniest annoyed twitch in yours.
BLANK SLATE [Godly: failure] - Wh-- how on earth did he--
L’OEIL DU MONDE - He wanted to help you, even if he didn’t know the right way how. Tears trickle down his cheeks, each following neatly in the tracks of those cried in his sleep. He is more than distraught, he is broken.
ASSUMPTION - You are dealing with a very emotionally unstable man.
VISAGE CACHÉ - He is emotionally unstable for YOU. Look at him, he’s pleading, both with himself and with the Innocents that you’re okay.
ROCKET SCIENCE - You may be the temporary cause for his… emotional misfortune. But this man is clearly unstable nonetheless.
ASSUMPTION - No one would wear a boiadeiro hat like that otherwise, that at least is clear as day.
EXCALIBUR [Challenging: failure] - And your body is fine , man. It’s basically in tip-top shape. You could run a marathon easy.
YOU - Really?
VIGOR - No. No you couldn’t.
LUNGS - Yeah… a no from me.
INHIBITION - And no, don’t even think about it.
EXCALIBUR - Fine, another time…
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - His face quivers for a second, then flushes with relief. The air breaks around him, “Kim, oh Kim!!! Oh my god I thought I lost you. God, I--“ He throws his face in his hands.
“I even planned to say something cool when you woke up like, I don’t know, a quote or something?? Maybe something from Kras Mazov… Can’t even remember what it was. It all left me when that nurse told me what happened. Dude, I rushed over here like the headless FALN horseman chasing after his head!”
BLANK SLATE - He pauses, and a shudder runs through him.
ROCKET SCIENCE - Is this man… scared of the headless FALN horseman???
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He continues quickly, waving off his pause. “You should’ve known if you called me, I’d have been over to help you stand in an instant. We’re partners, Kim. I would’ve never left you alone with the wolves.”
He pulls you into a hug.
REFLEX/IMPULSE [Challenging: failure] - Huh.
INHIBITION [Formidable: failure] - Wow.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - What.
YOU - Uhhh okay???
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - And you’re too startled to even resist. You can tell he wants to squeeze you a lot harder than what he actually is, but he refrains.
LUNGS - It’s a miracle that he refrains.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He whispers in your ear, “Besides, you know this staff is useless. Hell, with how slow that nurse responded, I’m surprised she didn’t leave you on the ground. f*cking assholes, Kim. f*cking dirty stinky assholes, every single one of them.”
VOLTA DO MAR - Okay before you smirk, what did he say besides that last part?
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - Sooo I’m getting that a nurse must have been that noise you heard. Maybe this ‘she’ was wearing heels? That would explain the *clip clop clip.*
BLANK SLATE [Challenging: success] - You can be sure it was never the FALN rider. With the fear in this guy’s tone just from the mere mention of his name, Mr. Boiadeiro would’ve never fallen asleep if this had been near one of the sightings. He’d be on edge the entire time. And I mean the entire stinking time.
MERRYWEATHER - The entire stinking asshole time…
YOU - I thought adults usually weren’t scared of this guy.
ASSUMPTION - …I did say he’s not feared by sane adults. (Note: sane .)
VOLTA DO MAR - Okay, and what other information did we pick up on this guy?
VISAGE CACHÉ - Uhhh, well he’s like really close right now. You can practically feel his breath on your neck. Who knows if that’s intentional. But I mean… I sure hope it is.
INHIBITION - No. you don’t
ROCKET SCIENCE - And it’s not, obviously so. This guy simply doesn’t know the boundaries of personal space. You can’t even keep up with what he’s saying, don’t try to analyze body language now.
DATABASE - He also mentioned a ‘Kim.’ So unless if that’s some sort of god with zero results, he’s likely referring to you.
BURNT DEBRIS - That fits you better than Archer O’Malley in the least.
NOTION - Kim, okay… I can work with that. Short for Kimothy?
INHIBITION - Hell no. We are not a Kimothy.
ASSUMPTION - What the f*ck even is a Kimothy? That sounds like a disease.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He pulls away and pauses.
ASSUMPTION [Legendary: success] - Considering whether he should grab your shoulders or his own hands.
NOTION - Or perhaps also wondering what the f*ck Kimothy could mean. But personally, I have some ideas--
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He eventually decides on holding your hands, clutching them like it’s a life raft.
YOU - Oh wow.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Ohhhh wow.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: success] - He realized he was harming you earlier with all the shakes, and opted to move his hands somewhere that he hopefully couldn’t wreck.
CHARISMA - Now this is smooth. Very unintentional but smooth. I’ll start writing notes. (Note: mental ones for now.)
REFLEX-IMPULSE - As he moves your hands, it makes you realize that since the failure of the pillows, you’ve been instinctively grasping at your chest this whole time. It’s like you’ve been trying to solve your thoughts from the outside-in.
INHIBITION [Heroic: failure] - A bad habit, this scratching. One you need to keep track of. And one I’m ashamed that I let though.
BLANK SLATE [Medium: failure] - You simply failed to notice until just now.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He looks at you pleadingly, with an emotion somewhere between reassurance and an apology. “There’s… a lot I need to tell you. And… a lot I need to apologize for. I’m sure you can already tell, Kim. I,” He sighs, “Oh hell, I don’t even know how to begin.”
BLANK SLATE [Formidable: success] - His eyes dart to the window that has been covered with blinds, and there’s a flash of fear before a blink. But he quickly returns to the apologetic look, covering whatever it was that he let through.
VIGOR - His grip does increase though, assuring you his fear was not a trick of your sight. But he still does not hurt you, he’s gotten control of himself just enough to ensure so.
YOU - Alright, now here’s the question, should I be relieved, concerned, or somewhat enamored???
VISAGE CACHÉ - Let’s make it a lil mix of three. Juuust for kicks.
VOLTA DO MAR - I think the answer to your question is that you should ignore your own feelings, and figure out what this guy needs to apologize for. Or, ahem, who he even is???
- I’m relieved.
- I’m concerned.
- I’m head over heels.
- I’m a confused, absurd mix.
- I have other things on my plate, like who this man is (move on).
VOLTA DO MAR - Yes. Let's just ask what’s going on.
YOU - You tilt your head and try to say words. Hell, any words. There’s so much to ask and yet nothing comes out. You’re like a silent, open mouthed mess.
NOTION [Formidable: failure] - Uh, uhhh… Ask where he’s from? Or, or his blood type?
VOLTA DO MAR - No, ask where you are. Get your bearings through a simple fact. And if you can’t do that, just act like you know what’s going on. You might be able to think up a question if you flail meaninglessly for long enough.
- [DATABASE - FORMIDABLE] Remember who this man is and what he means to you.
- “Who are you and why are you in my face???”
- “Where am I exactly, boiadeiro sir?”
- [CHARISMA - CHALLENGING] Fake another coughing fit for this man to hold you in his arms.
-1 Where did that come from??? - [VOLTA DO MAR - FORMIDABLE] Gesture vaguely, implying you know what the hell is going on (even though you DON’T).
DATABASE [Formidable: failure] - No can do, chief. No results are turning up for ‘emotionally unstable man’ in our search engine. Wait! We got a match! Does a certain ‘you’ strike a bell?
VISAGE CACHÉ - Ugh, quit worrying about that. His beautiful, beautiful arms are just right there. He’s practically BEGGING to hold you once again. Cmon, let the fella give in.
INHIBITION - Ah, that idea came from you. Makes sense. NOT gonna happen.
- “Who are you and why are you in my face???”
- “Where am I exactly, boiadeiro sir?”
- [CHARISMA - CHALLENGING] Fake another coughing fit for this man to hold you in his arms.
-1 No. Just no. - [VOLTA DO MAR - FORMIDABLE] Gesture vaguely, implying you know what the hell is going on (even though you DON’T).
VOLTA DO MAR [Formidable: success) - Somehow, despite your coughing fit and complete confusion at who or where you are, you keep your cool. You nod just enough so that it is visible, while also ensuring you don’t start another fit.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - This guy must be able to read minds because he miraculously picks up on your gesture. He takes it as reassurance, and an off-kilter smile spreads across his face.
INHIBITION - Like a virus.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Like the onset of a warm summer day.
LUNGS - His face is unfamiliar, but the warmth it brings is nothing new.
BURNT DEBRIS - It’s not warmth, it’s like you’ve caught the flu. You feel f*cking nauseous, this guy is a stomach bug.
CAMARADERIE - But please do not throw up on this guy. That would not be good.
YOU - And why exactly is that? Aside from the obvious?
CAMARADERIE - You feel a sense of unconventional authority here… something in the air. There’s no real evidence to back me up here, but do not f*ck this up.
YOU - Finally, a question comes to mind. You begin to talk slowly, cautious as to not restart a fit. “I’m… not sure where to start, either? I don’t think I have my bearings.”
SENSORY (HEARING) - Your voice rings out low, and unintentionally in the tone of a question. But it’s clear, deep and monotone, unlike the other, more volatile voice in the room.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “Er, sorry. Should’ve started with that first. You were unconscious when you got here, so no wonder you don’t know where you are…” He lowers his voice into a mumble, “You're in Precinct 41’s infirmary, and you’ve been under Gottlieb’s care. You might be wondering why you aren’t at the 57th, but I think… I think that’s a conversation for another time.”
BLANK SLATE - And there’s the worried chirp again.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - And the hasty look at the blinds.
ROCKET SCIENCE - You want to ask, you need to ask. But there’s a lot of other things you need to ask too.
ASSUMPTION- - But please , don’t make your lack of knowledge obvious. This guy seems to have had a connection with you. And as concerning as that is to have a connection to a man that fears the headless FALN rider, I think admitting you lack his name would break his feeble, little heart.
SPACE RACE - Do NOT say the first option.
CAMARADERIE - And not the fourth either.
BLANK SLATE - And only say the second if you feel it’ll turn out right.
YOU - Okay… a lot of requirements here. No pressure, right?
- “So… What’s your name?”
- [BLANK SLATE - FORMIDABLE] Try to come up with a way of asking for his name, without actually asking for his name.
-1 And how will you do that? - “Why do you keep looking outside?”
- “…First, Precinct 41?”
- “Were you the one that sent the bluebells?”
- “Uh… what’s your favorite flavor of pie?”
- [NOTION - MEDIUM] Come up with some more topics. These conversations all absolutely suck.
NOTION [Challenging: failure] - Uh… Okay. I got it! Ask for his dad’s full name, and then you can ‘mister’ your way through. That’s not weird at all. A completely normal thing to do.
YOU - Alright… then it’s decided.
MERRYWEATHER - Hell yeah!! Let’s ‘mister’ our way through.
YOU - You prepare to say it…
BLANK SLATE [Legendary: failure] - And then your face freezes. Fully, immovably freezes.
CORPUS - …Uh. I don’t know what is happening.
NERVOUS SYSTEM - sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, I don’t know either??
BLANK SLATE - There’s no way you can continue to ask this without your body freezing up. You know it won’t go well, and you just can’t. Your body physically won’t let you.
YOU - Slowly, you close your jaw.
SENSORY (HEARING) - And clear your throat like nothing happened.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He blinks, visibly confused. Then decides to just give you a minute to figure yourself out.
BLOODY WATERS - You… don’t like his silence at all. It feels as if he’s trying to ignore your mistake, already casting doubt at your sanity that remains.
-1 MORALE
INHIBITION - Never f*ck up like that again.
VISAGE CACHÉ - This guy looks up to you in a way, and you can’t just ruin that.
BLANK SLATE - I told you to be smart about that one. You should’ve waited, now you can’t.
VOLTA DO MAR - Just breathe and move on. The more you fret about this, the more awkward silence this guy has to pretend he doesn’t notice.
CAMARADERIE [Formidable: success] - And definitely don’t say any of the weird options. Not now, he’ll catch on.
VOLTA DO MAR - It doesn’t help that all of them are weird but sure. Try to be normal.
- “So… What’s your name?”
- “Why do you keep looking outside?”
- “…First, Precinct 41?”
- “Were you the one that sent the bluebells?”
- “Uh… what’s your favorite flavor of pie?”
- [NOTION - MEDIUM] Come up with some more topics. These conversations all absolutely suck.
YOU - “Why do you keep looking outside?” You raise a finger towards your right. “The blinds are closed, are they not? You keep acting as if you can see straight through.”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He winces like that was the one question he did not want you to ask. But also, like he was also not surprised at you asking.
ASSUMPTION [Medium: success] - He knows how readable he is.
NOTION - And you just ripped a metaphorical bandaid off his skin.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “I… don’t know what you’re referring to,” as he tries to shoot an unnoticeable glance once again.
- Raise your eyebrows.
- “Mhm. Sure.”
- “Alright then…” (move on)
YOU - Your eyebrows raise, an unamused non-verbal way for you to ask, ‘really?’
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He tries to stay strong, but shrinks beneath your gaze.
SPACE RACE - A subconscious win.
BLOODY WATERS - Hell yeah.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He sighs, sinking in defeat. “Well, a lot has happened, Kim. And honestly I think I should wait to tell you.”
ROCKET SCIENCE - Oh, but you don’t want to wait.
BLOODY WATERS - This could be your only hidden chance at information. Information of the world, and of the lies that rest beneath. Listen, this is important. Steel yourself and jump on this bad boy. Jump on top of him and squeeze the knowledge out.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Oh god you did it again. Let’s please stop and think before we… well, think.
- “No. I want to know now.”
- “…You’re right. That can wait.” (Move on.)
YOU - “No. I want to know now.”
CAMARADERIE - Yes, and you should. This is something that goes beyond curiosity. This knowledge is a duty of sorts.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He obviously does not like your answer, but again is not surprised at your response. He thinks for a second, then stares at you as he asks, “Well, I’ll be honest. It’ll be easier if you tell me where to start.”
YOU - Wh… what.
DATABASE [Godly: failure] - Uh, can we ask from the very beginning? Starting with the emergence of mankind?
YOU - “…What do you mean ‘tell you where to start?’”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “You know, like what you last remember. Tell me that and then I’ll continue from there.” He taps the side of his head, “Besides, I wanna know how much you still got up there. Your graphs were a little… concerning, to say the least.”
NOTION [Formidable: failure] - Graphs? You have graphs??
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: success] - If I’ve been correctly picking up that you were in a coma, of course you’d have graphs. And with these apparent ‘graphs’ and your big f*ck up from before, I’m afraid boiadeiro man is putting two and two together…
ASSUMPTION - But this could also be your only chance at information while continuing this guise. Don’t pass this up, but do be cautious.
VOLTA DO MAR - Alright now, proceed carefully.
- [DATABASE - IMPOSSIBLE] Remember your past.
- Just admit you don’t have a memory.
- [VISAGE CACHÉ - FORMIDABLE] List what you remember of Archer O’Malley.
- “I don’t want to play these games.”
VISAGE CACHÉ [Formidable: success] - Yes, let the symphony commence.
YOU - You glance towards the window, then back at the man’s face. You struggle to see the details, but something about this man just reminds you of… him . You can’t help but say it. It’s what you must do. And besides, there’s nothing else to say.
And so you manage to get it out, everything from the voice in the wind to the pain you felt after. It is relieving yet horrifying, but you get it out all the same.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He tilts his head, listening intently the whole time. And when you finish, he thinks before he speaks. “That’s… poetic. I didn’t know you thought like that, Kim.”
Something in him has changed, like he’s been reminded of a memory of some sort. Not a sweet one, nor a sad, but that odd, complicated mix in between.
VISAGE CACHÉ - It’s the same sensation you’re feeling right now.
ASSUMPTION - He must have gone through something similar.
NOTION - Or his empathy is scarily off the charts.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - And then he continues,“…But something’s wrong.”
VISAGE CACHÉ - Erm.
YOU - Uh oh.
REFLEX/IMPULSE - Do NOT let this show. A quick denial…
YOU - “Huh? I do not know what you are referring to.” You say just a little too hasty.
REFLEX/IMPULSE [Formidable: failure] Damnit, too quick…
BLANK SLATE [Legendary: success] - But you don’t let it show in your face. Not even a twitch.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He squints and leans forward. “Well for starters, there was no detail. You gave me nothing to work with, all of that was fairly vague.”
BLANK SLATE [Godly: failure] - Now this you can’t help but sneer at.
YOU - Does this guy really think he can interrogate me? While I’m in an infirmary bed??
ROCKET SCIENCE - You should be the curious one here, and you should be getting the answers.
BLOODY WATERS - Not whatever’s going on in this twisted game of charades. Who the hell does he think he is?
L’OEIL DU MONDE - A man with too many ideas, that’s who he thinks he is.
- Just use your words.
- [EXCALIBUR - CHALLENGING] Stare at him until he changes the subject or cries.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - FORMIDABLE] Try to find a way to ignore this and move on
-1 But he already suspects you
-1 …And he’s right on your tail
YOU - “…With all due respect, you asked me vaguely what I remember. I gave you exactly that to the best of my ability. I do not know what you want from me when I have nothing to work with myself. If you want detail, then ask a question with such.”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - His eyebrows scrunch, “Fine, I got it then. Why don’t you tell me my name?”
ROCKET SCIENCE - …Tell him his own name? Oh no.
BLOODY WATERS - This is cruel. Evil and inhumane.
VOLTA DO MAR - But there’s no getting out of this one. He’s cornered you and is not letting you go without getting an answer.
YOU - You look him over one more time, your last-ditch attempt for a saving grace from this humiliation trial.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He does look sort of familiar, distantly so. The same way than an uncle does when you only see him every five years at family reunions.
NOTION - So whatever you say, do NOT claim you don’t know this man’s name. You do not want the sad, uncle-at-a-family-reunion face to happen.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - And this man looks well versed in that expression. In fact the longer you stall, the more you can feel it building.
- [NOTION - MEDIUM] Improv a way out.
- “…Listen, I honestly can’t remember your name.”
- [DATABASE - GODLY] Remember this guy’s name.
- Throw up in his face.
YOU - “Khm… what a silly question. Of course I know your name, how couldn’t I?”
NOTION [Medium: success] - Yes! Yes, that’s just the way to go! Make a fond remark while simultaneously avoiding the fact of saying his name.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He smiles sadly, pity in his eyes. “Well, for starters, you couldn’t have known my name. We’ve never met before, patient 273.”
He words this like you’re a child getting explained that Santa is not real.
DATABASE [Challenging: failure] - …Patient 273? Is this man your ‘doctor Gottlieb?’
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: failure] - Hmmm, you really can’t tell. It’s not out of the question that this whole visit could have been an unconventional checkup.
DATABASE - Or maybe this is a normal checkup, not like you have anything else to compare it to.
BLOODY WATERS - I don’t care. f*ck this guy for his pity. He’s looking down at you right now, it’s messed up.
BURNT DEBRIS - You already feel sick.
BLANK SLATE - But in terms of legitimacy, you can’t pick up on any lies. His face has remained firm, very much unlike his past animated expressions.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Formidable: failure] - I’m not sure if that’s more suspicious or less.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - But through the smudgeness of your sight, you can tell he appears genuine. That much you can be sure of despite everything else.
MERRYWEATHER - And taking a step back, why on earth would he lie to you now? You’re vulnerable and fallen. If he pushed you hard enough, he could get his way however he wished. No need for these tactics.
ROCKET SCIENCE - And everything has lined up so far with your weak recollection…
MERRYWEATHER - See? You should trust him, what have you got to lose?
BLOODY WATERS - There’s a lot he could use these tactics for. Like gaining your trust when he is a man not to be trusted.
CAMARADERIE - And you have a lot to lose, like your high standing in this man’s eyes. If you’re wrong about this, there’s a chance it could cost you.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He lets go of your hands. He’s been patient, but not entirely so.
CAMARADERIE - Scratch that, it would cost you. There’s no doubt in my mind. Or no doubt in yours.
- Question him further.
- [BLOODY WATERS - MEDIUM] Cast the eye of disapproval (do not trust him).
- [MERRYWEATHER - EASY] Apologize for the misunderstanding (and trust him).
MERRYWEATHER [Easy: success] - Yes, trust him. Enough with these sidesteps and facades.
YOU - “Oh…” you cough softly, partially from embarrassment, partially because your lungs feel like bags of sawdust. “I’m… sorry then, sir. You just reminded me of someone I met long ago.”
CAMARADERIE - That isn’t… entirely wrong. You get that sense somewhere, far within.
ASSUMPTION [Medium: success] - It’s that ‘Archer O’Malley,’ there’s definitely a connection.
ROCKET SCIENCE - But something with that answer is wrong. You can tell the second it reaches his ears.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - First it’s a twitch, then a shudder, and eventually his whole expression shatters.
BLANK SLATE - His calm demeanor immediately breaks in two. And with miraculous speed, tears spring in his eyes.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “O-oh… my god… you actually f-forgot who I am…?”
CAMARADERIE - Oh. sh*t.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - What the-- it was a TRICK??
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “Kim, holy sh*t. What do I even…” He cuts off with a sniffle.
YOU - Wait, did he lie to see if I’d admit I don’t know his name??
ASSUMPTION - …I’m afraid that’s exactly what he just did.
BLOODY WATERS - Oh. My. God.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He stands up, words muffled by his hand. “Just… just tell me. Do you… even remember my face??”
BLANK SLATE [Godly: failure] - You blink, and your composure falters.
YOU - “I, er… Sort of? ” Your voice comes out a whisper.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - But he hears it, that’s for sure. And it breaks him even more.
ASSUMPTION - Ohhh no. Here it comes.
NOTION - The boiadeiro’s steamroller of tears.
???, ‘51 — ??? at ???
ASSUMPTION - Jesus it took a while for this man to calm down.
CAMARADERIE - You even tried to comfort him at one point. Although the whole ‘Uh… there, there?’ sha-bang was unsuccessful.
INHIBITION - Which was embarrassing to say the least.
DATABASE - But you really can’t empathize with his struggle, especially when you don’t even know his name.
VOLTA DO MAR - Well, you SHOULD know his name. He blubbered it out at one point. But your mind was off track listing off insults you could throw at his hat.
ASSUMPTION - It’s not my fault I feel threatened. Why the hell is Sheriff McGee in our hospital room?
VISAGE CACHÉ - And where is his lasso? Where’s that rope around his belt?
NOTION - Hmmm, I could certainly come up with some ideas .
- Listen to these ideas.
- Come up with more insults about his hat.
- [MERRYWEATHER - FORMIDABLE] Look for something positive in this guy.
- Revoke all emotions you might have felt about him earlier.
YOU - I take back those feelings I might’ve had before. Can I do that? Return them to the clerk? Because I do not want any connections with this wreck of a man.
INHIBITION - Indeed you do not.
DATABASE - Which is why after failing to comfort him, you just waited for the storm to pass.
VOLTA DO MAR - And when your silence didn’t stop the crying, your eyebrow raise seemed to egg him on.
SENSORY (HEARING) [Medium: success] - He mumbled something about an ‘ironic twist of fate,’ and that this was ‘karma’s way of getting back at him.’ But then again, you could be wrong, you weren’t really listening because of--
ASSUMPTION - That stupid f*cking hat. That gross, disturbing, dirty thing.
IDIODIC FUGLY HAT - The hat in question (or in insult) rests bedraggled on the floor. It fell off his head earlier once the man started to pace. He then picked it up and cried into it for a while, but soon threw it back down to the floor once again.
VOLTA DO MAR - You think you caught him muttering a few words to the hat as well, but you decided to move on from that. Way too much was going on for any of it to fully process.
CAMARADERIE [Medium: success] - That’s when you heard him mention something about the title of ‘Yefreitor’ as well. Not that you know what that means, but it definitely has that air of authority to it.
BLANK SLATE - But the man, this Yefreitor-boiadeiro, has finally stifled the tears.
VISAGE CACHÉ - That achievement is of course from no thanks to you.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - Hey, don’t worry about it! I’m like 90% sure that at hospital visits, the patient is supposed to be the comforted one anyways. Not this other way around.
BLOODY WATERS - But you didn’t even try. You just sat and watched.
INHIBITION - Well that’s entirely his fault. Any endearing qualities he might’ve had at the beginning were thrown to the wolves, replaced with the smell of astra cigarettes.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: success] - That’s what finally got him to calm down, the ease of giving into an addiction.
ASSUMPTION - With his emotions, it figures. How else could he self-regulate?
BLANK SLATE [Challenging: success] - You stifle a look of distaste. Not that it matters, he’s not even looking.
MERRYWEATHER - This feels wrong. You feel wrong. You’re judging him harshly and for no reason at all.
REFLEX/IMPULSE - And there’s a hypocritical part of you that wants to give in to impulse too. Especially with the smell of those astras… and the way it swirls around your nose...
BLOODY WATERS - Speaking of hypocritical, this guy hasn’t judged you. You feel like a mess, likely look like one too, but this man has been wailing in his own struggles rather than pointing out yours. Is it childish? Sure. But it’s more mature than how you’re acting right now. You and your hatred for that ugly, fugly hat.
NOTION - Hang on, he could be judging you. Yeah not openly, but who knows what’s going on in that mind of his? He’s like a book so open the pages have ripped entirely out.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - Speaking of him, he’s looking out the window as you think, purposefully blowing smoke to the side so as to not irritate your lungs.
SENSORY (SMELL) [Easy: success] - You can still smell it though. In a taunting sort of way.
VISAGE CACHÉ - And you reallyyy want to ask for one. They’re oh so close.
LUNGS - But you shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t.
INHIBITION - If not for your lungs, then just as a challenge to hold yourself back.
SPACE RACE - Oh yes, challenges . That feeling of superiority once you’ve conquered one of your foes! Even if that foe is yourself. It’s a little silly, but it brings you joy.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Come onnn, just ask for one! You don’t have to smoke it right now. It could be another challenge. Although, you really could do with one right now.
CHARISMA - It would make you look cool. At least cooler than a baby with pre-weathered hands.
NOTION - Hell yeah! Nothing cooler than a baby with pre-weathered hands and an unhealthy smoking addiction! What more could you want?
INHIBITION - Some sanity maybe???
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “I’m… sorry. It was embarrassing of me to act that way.” He finally turns back towards you, picking the astra out of his mouth. “Especially when I’ve been in the same position as you.”
DATABASE [Legendary: failure] - ‘In the same position as you?’ What does he even mean??
- Don’t respond.
- “Uh… what?”
- [ROCKET SCIENCE - FORMIDABLE] Piece together what he means.
YOU - Unsure of how to respond, you simply don’t.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - And he doesn’t explain. Instead he flicks the butt out the window, then re-shuts the blinds.
ASSUMPTION - Damn those blinds. Even in the midst of his breakdown he still managed to stand in the way of you seeing the outside. What an absolute dick.
MOTORWAY SOUTH [Legendary: failure] - Just what could be out there? And why is he keeping it hidden away?
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “So… you don’t have any memory. Nothing at all, is that right?”
ROCKET SCIENCE - Hmph. Doesn’t seem like he’s gonna let you know what’s out there anytime soon.
- Bring up the blinds.
- Let him ask his incessant questions.
- “I have a few memories of that stupid, fugly hat.”
YOU - You shrug, “Small interludes. I remember hurting, that’s for sure. Sirens perhaps, and maybe screaming of some kind.”
(Note: ‘…but not you, nothing specific of you,’ is what you leave unsaid.)
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - Actually, I think that screaming was this guy’s sobs… you recognized some familiarity when he was trying and failing not to cry.
VOLTA DO MAR - Better continue quickly so that you don’t hear them again .
YOU - “…But as for anything of use? No. I didn’t even remember that ‘Kim’ was my name.”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - The man nods gravely, slowly coming to terms. He’s eerily quiet now, like that weird calm in the aftermath of a storm.
MERRYWEATHER - Hey, let’s change the topic. I think both of you need a lighthearted change of pace.
VISAGE CACHÉ - And speaking of hearts, I certainly know a topic you want to get down to…
- “…First, Precinct 41?”
- “Were you the one that sent the bluebells?”
- “Uh… what’s your favorite flavor of pie?”
- [NOTION - MEDIUM] Come up with some more topics. These conversations all absolutely suck.
YOU - You tilt your head towards the flowers. “Were you the one that sent the bluebells?”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - A co*ckeyed grin slowly creeps across his face. He turns back towards you, mood entirely anew, “Did I send the… what now?”
ASSUMPTION - Uh. Why is he trying not to laugh?
- “The… bluebells?”
- Don’t respond. He knows something you don’t.
- [ROCKET SCIENCE - FORMIDABLE] Try to figure out what he’s insinuating.
-1 But… they’re bluebells.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Formidable: failure] - Yeah, no, these are definitely bluebells. Hm… are you slurring your words or something?
ASSUMPTION - I don’t know, I don’t think you are. But then again I’m kind of a biased source.
- “The… bluebells?”
- Don’t respond. He knows something you don’t.
YOU - “The… bluebells ?” You say half confused, half annoyed.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He apparently finds this so hilarious that he can’t even hold it in. His laugh echoes out heartily, contagious. It would cause you to smile too if he wasn’t laughing at you.
“Oh please, did you really think those were bluebells?” He’s wiping tears from his eyes like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all year.
YOU - “Wh-- are they not ??”
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “No!! They’re… haha, they’re not even blue!”
DATABASE [Easy: failure] Oh. Overlooked that part.
CAMARADERIE - Eeughhh kill meeeee.
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - “Hahaha… you’re killing me, Kim. Hang on, I might have an actual bluebell in here somewhere… I’ll even take it out to show you the difference.” He shoots you a wink. “Call it my gift to the needy.”
BLOODY WATERS - If he doesn’t stop this arrogance he’s gonna be ‘needy’ a new pair of legs in a second…
VISAGE CACHÉ - Okay, legit, what does that even mean???
UNCADAVER-LIKE MAN - He eventually just shoves his whole hand into his pocket and rips out a…
NOTION [Medium: failure] - A, uhm…
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Legendary: failure] - Yeah. You can’t f*cking see what this is. Not at all.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: success] - It’s probably because he’s holding it right in front of the left side of your face, in the exact spot where your vision is the most fuzzy.
ASSUMPTION - I don’t think he realizes just how blind you actually are.
BURNT DEBRIS - Or he just doesn’t realize you’re an inept fool that can’t even see a foot in front of your own face. It’s up to you, honestly. Your interpretation is full reign.
- [NOTION - CHALLENGING] Act like you can see it.
- Shrug and move on.
- Be honest and admit you absolutely can’t see sh*t.
VOLTA DO MAR - Oh thank god, I’m so glad you’re getting this off your chest. You really can’t function when your vision is worse than a doll with fake plastic eyes.
YOU - “Well if you want honesty , Mr…” You pause.
DATABASE [Medium: failure] - Mister… uh, uh--
YOU - Oh my god.
DATABASE - Uhhhhh-- Error 474…?
ROCKET SCIENCE - You forgot. That you weren’t listening. When he said. His name.
ASSUMPTION - This man JUST had a mental breakdown over telling you his name, and now you can’t even remember it???
BURNT DEBRIS - Inept! Absolutely inept!!
YOU - You just stutter silently. Your lips continue to move with no noise coming out. After what seems like a full ten seconds, a jumble of nonsensical words finally spew out.
“Mister… Yefreitor.”
CAMARADERIE - Pull the plug. now.
BLANK SLATE [Medium: success] - Ohhh he did not like that. Visibly so.
MISTER YEFREITOR - His mouth curls downwards, into a cartoonish yet genuine frown. “...Just call me Harry, like I said. Look at me, I’m no man of formalities.”
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: success] - He obviously picked up on the fact you forgot his name AGAIN, but brushed it off on professionality.
CAMARADERIE - Yeah. ‘Professionality.’
SENSORY (SIGHT) [Formidable: failure] - You wish you could look him in the eyes right now. To cover your humiliation, you even try. But you truly can’t tell where his eyes end and his nose begins. All you have been analyzing are various shades of green, gray, and that half slicked-back mass of brown on his head.
The rest of your body-reading has come from vibe guesses and common sense. Let’s hope those have been correct.
YOU - “...Alright, Harry ,” You move strangely around the sound of his name, the unfamiliarity is resounding. And your unintentionally cold tone makes the poor guy flinch.
BLOODY WATERS - You should feel bad. That was cruel.
‘HARRY’ - But the aftereffects of your cruelty don’t last for long. Soon enough his eyes crinkle at the edges, and his mouth twists again into a grin.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: failure] - Uhh? And that’s supposed to mean??
CAMARADERIE - What is going on? Why is he smiling again ??
- “God, why are you smiling again???”
- [BLOODY WATERS - CHALLENGING] Try to figure out what he finds funny without asking.
-1 You could’ve sworn those were bluebells. - [REFLEX/IMPULSE - FORMIDABLE] Quickly move on so he doesn’t have a chance to rub whatever this is in.
BLOODY WATERS [Challenging: success] …I take it back. We should not feel bad for this man. Look at him, he’s gloating. It’s like he’s won some sort of unspoken game at your mention of his name in place of a formality.
SPACE RACE - Oh no no no, we will NOT stand for this! That was an unfair win! We did not know the rules!!!
DATABASE [Medium: success] - And despite your lack of memory, calling him ‘Yefreitor’ sounds far more familiar than a blatant ‘Harry.’ You must have barely called him that when you knew this man before. That would indeed explain his absolute joy.
VOLTA DO MAR [Challenging: failure] - This name issue will surely mess with you for some time.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Medium: success] - Oh! I got it, you should come up with another name to call him that's not as formal as Yefreitor, but also not as casual as ‘Harry!’
NOTION - YESS THIS IS WHERE I COME IN.
SPACE RACE - Pfft, that talk is for losers. No, let’s get back to the big picture here. This man just KICKED you while you were DOWN. He just beat you in a competition you had no knowledge of. He took advantage in a moment of weakness, and is rubbing it in.
BLOODY WATERS - He took advantage of you? Oh hell no, you will NOT allow him to leave this room unscathed.
SPACE RACE - Yes-- that’s what I’m saying! YOU WILL WIN YOUR STANDING BACK.
BLOODY WATERS - NO INJUSTICE SHALL PASS YOU BY.
SPACE RACE - YESSSS, and that is exactly why you will--
BLOODY WATERS - Beat him in a fist fight to the death. Let the roars of the Revolution flood through your veins, uprise against these vicious enemy thrones. Your hands will drip with his blood and you shall smear it across your face like a true revolutionary warrior. And you will make your parents proud.
YOU - …
SPACE RACE - …Okay. Wow. I was not expecting for you to get THAT into it. Maybe more along the lines of, like, a game of Suzerainity instead?
DATABASE [Medium: failure] - What the f*ck is Suzerainity??
SPACE RACE - Uhh, never mind…
INHIBITION - Oh my god, you’re overthinking this. You do not have enough time nor the energy to spend on these frivolous thoughts. If the man wants to be called Harry, simply call him that and leave it be. This name issue does not get any deeper than that.
EXCALIBUR - Ahhh, but this could be a sly way to make you uncomfortable from the get go — to get you off your feet! You will not stand for that sort of deception. No, no, noooo. You are a man that speaks on equal footing and equal footing alone.
NOTION - And besidesss, I’m sure I can brew you up some bangers.
VOLTA DO MAR - Holy sh*t, okay fine I’ll bite! If this means we can finally get back on topic then throw these ‘bangers’ at us PLEASE.
NOTION [Medium: failure] - Oh damn like actually? Okay, well, it’ll take a few hours or so. Maybe days…?
- Well, if both my creative AND professional sides are in favor, I guess I HAVE to think up a new name for ‘Harry’ (opt in to the naming machine).
- [VIGOR - GODLY] Beat this man up for the dawn of a new day (opt in… to violence).
-2 You’re currently lethargic and in bed.
-1 This man looks like some sort of buff, inane angel.
-1 And he’s kinda cuteeee (note: in a totally not cute kinda way). - This is stupid, I don’t have time for this (opt out of both).
YOU - Well, if both my creative AND professional sides are in favor, I guess I HAVE to think up a new name for ‘Harry.’
NOTION - YIPPIE!!!
[THOUGHT GAINED: A new name for Yefreitor]
DATABASE - Until we get this name thing figured out, you’re referring to him by Yefreitor on the inside and Harry on the outside.
INHIBITION - Oh my dear Delores Dei.
BURNT DEBRIS - You’re unsalvageable.
VOLTA DO MAR - Or simply incapable of doing anything productive.
YEFREITOR - He clears his throat, trying and somewhat successfully so to bring you back to reality. “Uh, hello? Kimmm?? You were going to tell me something, I believe.”
He tilts his head like a worried dog. More of his hair falls into his eyes. “You’ve been thinking to yourself for a hot minute now. I do that too but right now it’s… a little concerning.”
(Note: ‘…and unlike the usual you,’ he seems to leave unsaid.)
ASSUMPTION [Legendary: success] - He’s genuinely apologizing for cutting you off. He hates when he does that, even if it was to correct your horrendous failure of remembering his name.
- “Uh… Uh…”
- [DATABASE - EASY] Remember what you were talking about.
- “Meh, forget it all. Anyways, what's your favorite flavor of pie?”
DATABASE [Easy: success] - Say that you can’t see what’s in his hand! He’s still holding a blurry object towards you.
YOU - “Khm, sorry… What I meant to say before I got sidetracked was that, as much as I wish to look at what’s in your palm, I’m afraid that I…”
SENSORY (SIGHT) - That you can’t?
VISAGE CACHÉ - Oh, this is hard for you to admit.
BURNT DEBRIS - Hah. Of course it’s hard to admit you’re physically incapable of completing a simple task! Like I said, you’re unsalvageable.
YOU - Your gaze breaks from his and travels to your blanketed thigh. You can’t get the words out, you just hope he understands what you’re trying to convey.
YEFREITOR - And Yefreitor seems to have picked up on it near immediately,
SENSORY (HEARING) - At least judging from the sudden choke in his voice.
YEFREITOR - His hands are quickly shoved back into his pockets, rapidly scourging around. Words flood from his mouth, “Holy sh*t Kim, I’m so so sorry. I-I can’t believe I forgot!! God, what a way to restart first impressions…”
L’OEIL DU MONDE - ‘Although our first was somehow worse,’ you feel it deep inside.
YEFREITOR - He grabs your arm suddenly, prying weak fingers apart to open your hand.
REFLEX/IMPULSE [Formidable: failure] - That took you by surprise.
VIGOR [Challenging: failure] - But you couldn’t have resisted anyways. Your arms are weak beyond comprehension. For an apt comparison, if you may…
NOTION [Medium: success] - You could EASILY get bodied by a 2 year old right now.
YOU - Thanks for the reassurance.
NOTION - And with smallpox at that!
VOLTA DO MAD - Okayyy. Lets just move on from th--
EXCALIBUR - No. Not gonna let that happen.
[THOUGHT GAINED: Prove your strength to a two-year-old]
SPACE RACE - Oh HELL yeah. Now this is the sort of respectable competition I signed up for.
BLOODY WATERS - I’m… not on board.
YOU - Wh-what??? But I never even agreed to that! No one even brought that idea up!!!!
EXCALIBUR - Sorry, but I had to take the incentive back there. You will NOT get outmuscled by a child. You have to prove yourself. If not for yourself, then for ol’ Yefreitor.
CAMARADERIE - Yes, he needs the confidence that you’re stronger than an infant. You’ll have no authority otherwise. And besides, you should have that confidence in yourself as well.
YOU - Okay, what the actual f*ck is wrong with me?? I will NOT be giving that thought any more time of day.
VOLTA DO MAR - Thank god we’re moving on from that. It’s already hard enough to keep you sane WITHOUT the threat of you punching a 2 year old.
EXCALIBUR - Oh don’t worry, eventually you will… Mark my words, traitor … Mark. My. Words.
YEFREITOR - He shoves an object into your (ever so weakened) palm, unaware of the concerning thoughts that rushed your mind within the span of a second.
“Agh, I forgot the left lens was shattered… Please be careful with your fingers.” He quiets beneath his breath, “I mean, I guess that lens doesn’t matter but still shoulda been replaced.”
SENSORY (HEARING) [Easy: failure) Wait, what was that last part he sai--
NERVOUS SYSTEM [Medium: failure] - Hang on, what are we holding right now? What the f*ck is this thing? WHAT IS THIS???
SENSORY (TOUCH) - Oh. Uh, well, it feels like some sort of plastic-carbon fiber mix. Maybe some metal in there too? I don’t know. It’s hard to guess purely from touch, but the texture reminds you of--
BURNT DEBRIS [Legendary: failure] - OH MY GOD IT’S A BOMB. THROW IT OUT THAT PROBABLY-OPENED WINDOW. DO IT FAST IT’S GONNA BLOW!!!!!
REFLEX/IMPULSE: Oh yeah, we are SO ready to throw something. We’ve been dormant for too long, buckaroo!!
SENSORY (TOUCH) - No, this does NOT feel like a bomb. You’re probably just jumpy after that 2-year-old dilemma.
- [SENSORY (HEARING) - MEDIUM] Try to figure out what Yefreitor just said
-2 Your senses have already moved on.
-1 What if this actually is a bomb???
-1 Your mind is in 20 places at once. - Squint your eyes and move this thing around until you figure out what it actually is.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - FORMIDABLE] Ask the yefreitor like a normal human being.
-1 a normal human being wouldn’t think of fighting a 2-year-old. - THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW!!
-1 Is the window even open though???
-1 Come on, even in your current state you know this is not what a bomb feels like.
+1 You’re already jumpy.
SENSORY (HEARING) [Medium: failure] - Huh? Yefreitor said something?
YOU - God you’re useless.
VOLTA DO MAR - Yes, indeed.
- Squint your eyes and move this thing around until you figure out what it actually is.
- [VOLTA DO MAR - FORMIDABLE] Ask the Yefreitor like a normal human being.
-1 a normal human being wouldn’t think of fighting a 2-year-old. - THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW!!
-1 Is the window even open though???
-1 Come on, even in your current state you know this is not what a bomb feels like.
+1 You’re already jumpy.
SENSORY (TOUCH) - Uh. Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve been listening but squinting your eyes won’t do sh*t. However, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, what you hold in your hand feels like a pair of glasses.
YOU - Oh.
DATABASE - Duh.
YEFREITOR - “…They won’t actually work until you put them on, you know.”
BLANK SLATE [Medium: success] - You smile apologetically. It’s a good enough coverup for him to accept.
YOU - Then you put them on, and it’s like you’ve entered a whole new world.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - Your left eye is still covered so your line of sight is still halved… but dear god. The side you can see out of is almost clear as day.
- Look at the room.
- Look at your bed.
- Look at Yefreitor.
- Stop looking (move on).
SENSORY (SIGHT) - When it comes to the 41st’s infirmary, the walls are actually white. However, the faded yellow lights cast it more as ivory.
ASSUMPTION [MEDIUM: Success] - They’re dim and flickering, likely from many years of use.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - To your left is a glass door covered mostly with a curtain. You can hear more footsteps coming from outside. There’s a closet behind Yefreitor and a clock on top of it that reads 10:00.
ROCKET SCIENCE - It’s roughly midday.
YOU - Didn’t sleep in too much I suppose.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - To your right are the dreaded blinds, each filament coated with years of dust apart from where Yefreitor rested his hands a bit earlier.
There’s a small bathroom in the back too. There’s probably a mirror in there. Remember that, you’ll want to see your face.
- Look at your bed.
- Look at Yefreitor.
- Stop looking (move on).
DATABASE - It’s not really a bed as much as it is a thin layer of cushion on top of metal pipes.
CORPUS - Not comfortable by any means, your back and hips ache.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - Parchment is laid on top of the blue, and a blanket covers most of that. You’re actually only half beneath the blanket. Your legs were kicked out.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Challenging: success] - Thanks to the whole coughing crisis from earlier no doubt.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - To the left of your bed is the dreaded IV pole, but you quickly glance over that to the heart monitor nearby. It is in fact connected to you, not the flowers, and the rate seems fairly stable as of now.
LUNGS - You doubt it was stable earlier, but you have no proof to back you up besides the shakiness in your breaths.
- Look at Yefreitor.
- Stop looking (move on).
VISAGE CACHÉ - Saving the best for last?
ASSUMPTION - Khm, more like the most deranged for last.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - His nose is crooked and bent at an odd angle. And now that you’re looking clearly, his hair might actually be slicked back with water and grease, not gel. There are bags beneath his eyes, and dirt beneath his fingernails.
YEFREITOR - He’s had better days, that’s for sure. With the amount of sh*t he’s been through he’s like a diamond in the rough.
L’OEIL DU MONDE - On the shores of Mundi on the Occidental side, there lived a family in a tiny house. They no longer live there now.
A child cried in the garden, muffling his noise with his hand. Not that he needed to, of course, with his parents loudly arguing inside.
“I know you’ve been seeing her,” the mother choked out, “That damn secretary of yours… I know you’ve been doing it again .” She wiped tears from her face, but the makeup stained all the same. She couldn’t meet her husband in his eyes, so she stared at the painting behind him of a bowl of fruit instead.
The painting was not bothered, and neither was her husband. If anything, her broken submission might have egged him on, like a debate he had to win. “Well well, honey-poo . Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch I wouldn’t done her in the first place. Or in the second either. Or maybe not even the third.”
“…Call me a bitch after I tell the press.” She hesitantly added, a new power in her voice. “See how your campaign will fair then, when they know the truth of your lies.”
The child was used to this but hated it, and so curled up further into his leafy home. “Just a little longer,” he thought, “then I’ll be at practice and it’ll all be fine.”
The wind hit his face, and the years went by. That’s not what happened that day, the spotlight singed. He dreamt it was his mother who sang back instead. Practice was never the same, as much as he wished it was.
“And how I wish it was,” whispered the child to his own grave. But wishing did nothing, and so he ran instead.
That boring painting remained untouched, useless aside from the momentary witness it bore. As for now, it’s in a junkyard. A survivor of the wreck left to fend for itself.
NOTION - He’s damaged like a centerpiece painting, usefulness gained through moments of emotion and the atmosphere it brings. The pain has brought him beauty, in a meaningful way.
ASSUMPTION - …You can only hope that is what it’s done to you. No telling as for now.
- Okay, but what does he actually look like?
- Stop looking (move on).
SENSORY (SIGHT) - His green eyes are clouded with gray, and the whites have a filter of red all over.
YEFREITOR - In general, red seems to be his primary theme. He has a permanent sort of blush going on, especially on the tip of his nose and above those two bushy mutton chops that honestly cover most of his jaw.
ASSUMPTION - Do I even have to throw any insults at the muttonchop boiadeiro hat duo? I think that speaks for itself. Being honest here.
VISAGE CACHÉ - But it’s kindaaaa--
INHIBITION [Medium: Success] - No. Stopping you there.
VOLTA DO MAR - I think that’s enough looking for now.
YOU - Yeah… I agree.
MERRYWEATHER - It’s all beautiful, actually beautiful. Even Yefreitor in his own way. And it’ll be even more beautiful once you fix the other lens.
YOU - This is great news.
+1 MORALE
YEFREITOR - He sees your excitement, and seems appreciative that the glasses helped you.
BURNT DEBRIS - …You’re still a failure for being unable to see on your own. But this eyesight is a little nice. I could probably get used to this.
SENSORY (SIGHT) - Oh, me too.
NOTION - Me three indeed!
YEFREITOR - He clears his throat, “Well, I think you have a lot to learn. Or, ah… to relearn I suppose. I’ll tell you all I can after you tell me the same. It’ll be a trade in a nice, casual sort of way. I hope you’re okay with that.”
REFLEX/IMPULSE - You nod before he finishes the speech.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Formidable: dailure] - Not even considering what he would want your info for.
DATABASE - But if giving up your information means gaining some of his, you are entirely down for that. You can’t remember anything exceptionally vulnerable anyways.
BLANK SLATE - And if you did, you’d hide it well.
INHIBITION - Of course, aside from what you already told him.
YEFREITOR - You begin to talk, but Yefreitor holds up a hand. “But I think it would be better if we do it on a walk. I just… think better when I’m moving. I hope you understand.”
NERVOUS SYSTEM - Hm, you actually do feel the same.
CORPUS - Your legs do ache. You’re up for a walk.
EXCALIBUR - Ooo, maybe a marathon in the woods?? I certainly like that idea.
YEFREITOR - As if reading your mind he adds on, “It’ll just be around the surrounding wing, nothing extensive.”
EXCALIBUR - Damnit, I hope he can read this one: f*ck. YOU.
BLANK SKATE [Challenging: success] - He probably cannot. You don’t move a muscle.
YEFREITOR - “…although I do remember Gottlieb saying you should use an aid. Something about ‘3 weeks is enough time to entirely lose your balance’ and all that. I don’t know, I think it went over my head at the time because I was…”
VISAGE CACHÉ - ‘ Crying ,’ he leaves unsaid.
REFLEX/IMPULSE - Or maybe ‘throwing things’ rests on the tip of his tongue.
VOLTA DO MAR - But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is this walk.
EXCALIBUR - And I don’t care if an aid is what this ‘Gottlieb’ recommends. You are using the LEAST amount of support possible. Don’t be pathetic, take this like a man!
BLOODY WATERS - …O’wimpy mc’f*ckface is no damn man.
MERRYWEATHER - Also that’s like kinda misogynistic??
NOTION [Medium: success] - Heyyy, we could always take his hand instead. That’s practical! And an equilibrium between two extremes!
VISAGE CACHÉ - Take his hand… oh, I like that idea. I’ll back you up there. Oh yes indeed.
YEFREITOR - “But hey, if we stay here I’ll get sidetracked in just a moment. Let’s start walking. It’s no big deal,” The man’s arm is outstretched towards you, prepped to guide you towards wherever this aid may be.
MERRYWEATHER - His gaze pours into you, the glint so much more refreshing now that you actually see his eyes. Half of you is unsure whether you should trust this man, while your other half already does.
BURNT DEBRIS - You really, really shouldn’t.
VOLTA DO MAR - You’re actually unsure.
ROCKET SCIENCE [Easy: success] - One thing you are sure of however, and that is that this man certainly trusts in you. He wouldn’t be with you otherwise, and there’s a million reasons I could list why. That’s just going off of this short meeting alone, who knows what it was like when you had your memories.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Oh my god his hand is RIGHT THERE. I’m getting BUTTERFLIESSSS. Quick, GRAB IT.
INHIBITION - But if you grab it, note there will be NO emotions attached. It’ll just be because it’s the most logical thing to do.
VISAGE CACHÉ - Sureee. Uh huh.
YEFREITOR - His hands twitch slightly, urging you to move on.
- [VIGOR - LEGENDARY] Step on your own. Prove to him you don’t need his help.
- Accept the aid like a normal person.
- Ask for a cigarette first.
- [VISAGE CACHÉ - MEDIUM] “…I’ll just take your hand for now.”
-1 Half of you is unsure…
+1 …but this man trusts in you.
