Field Mission 5: Il Prigioniero, Part 2

[balancemod]

Once you sacrifice something here, you don't get it back. NAVIGATION Click here for the RNG thread! 1. THE MANAGER'S CHALLENGE A. MEET THE BOSS Once upon a time, there was a man, a woman, and a little boy. They were a family. They loved each other very much. Once upon a time, there was a monster, a protector, and a dreamer. They never asked to be a family. One by one, they fell under the pressures of each other. There are always layers to any story. There are at least two sides to any reality. When a man kills his wife with no consequences, what is the end of the story? Will the universe allow such an unhappy ending? Or are there forces that drag it on long past its natural span? With a single act of resistance, four Reclaimers have Remembered and thereby broken the cycle of the Night Show. But this isn't the end. This is barely the middle. Because the Wonderland you've seen so far is a layer of new pink skin over an ugly infection, one that goes deeper than anything the Bureau has seen so far. You can see what's underneath, now, as the theme park is whipped away in an implosion of void-space to show you . . . Emptiness. A space that is no space, blank and white in all directions. Free of gravity, every Reclaimer in the park — and, shockingly, Angus McDonald — is held in place with hands cupped and outstretched in front of them, all facing the same way. They cannot move. They cannot speak. They are the audience. Before them stands a man. Slim, tall, nondescript. He wears a bow-tie with a pattern of Rolands on it. And he is smiling. "Welcome to my Wonderland! My name is Adrian Morgenstern, and I am the Manager. It's a pleasure to meet you. Each and every one of you have had a very interesting effect on my Wonderland in my absence. Some more than others, and at greater cost to yourselves — but I encourage individual choice in Wonderland, and ownership of personal consequences. Suffering is a part of life. It builds character. "So, I am proud of you. So proud, in fact, that I've decided to bring you all backstage. You kept trying to see behind the curtain, didn't you? You'll really enjoy it. There is a great deal to do, so much to explore, and so many games to play. Every second you breathe in Wonderland is a game with stratospheric stakes. You're very brave to take the risk. "And to make things more interesting, I have set up a very special game for you little detectives, who so love to stick their noses into strange secret corners. I challenge you to a Scavenger Hunt. You accept, because you have no choice. Here is what you must gather: "The vacant bodies of Leonardo da Vinci, Minato Arisato, and Henrik Merryweather. The people who have been lured here after your carelessness shattered their livelihood. Have you located them all already? Or did you miss a few? Ten lost little elves, misled and apprehended. And, lastly— "My son. Bring me my son. Bring Niel to me, and I will give you the Compact." There's a crack in the facade. A literal crack; something in the structure of his face is off suddenly, like something has fractured and slid. One cheekbone higher than the other, a hairline fracture underneath his eye. You blink, and it's fixed. His smile is wide, but his face is whole. Suddenly, in each Reclaimer's outstretched hands (and in Angus's), there is a single three-sided die. On each side is written a word: BODY, MIND, or SPIRIT. "Don't lose these, now! These are your cheat codes. If you find yourself struggling with the scavenger hunt and in need of a little help, you can play a little game of chance to give Wonderland something of yours. It won't take anything that will kill you, don't worry. But it will take things that matter, and it won't give them back. "One more thing, and then I'll let you go. I've given you some cheats, but in order to keep you from finishing the game too quickly, I'm taking something away, too. Everyone, please take good care of yourselves while you're here. You're all precious cargo. And there's no healing in Wonderland." He winks. And blinks out of existence. And suddenly, the nonspace you occupied is gone, and you are Somewhere Else. Back to top 2. WONDERLAND, UNDER THE SKIN B. THE ILLUSION COMES DOWN CW: Emetophobia, body horror, reality caving in on itself For a short time after Adrian leaves, everything is as it should be. Wonderland is Wonderland, but quiet and still aside from the background music. After a few breaths, heartbeats slowing, the music warps and bends like rotting wood, going further and further off key until it grinds. Clangs once, loudly, down to your bones, and halts. The world freezes in absolute silence. Then. A sizzling noise. Burning paper. The illusion starts to die. To your left, the floor peels up like it's made of paper, mist, waving like a mirage before your eyes. Colorful red velvet floors reveal dark green and glowing violet moss and fungus. Gold tile floors give way to ebony wood, gone rock solid in atrophy. Disease. A small black vine reaches from the floor towards you, towards Life, but withers and hardens before your eyes. You need to leave. To your right, a wall bleeds. Is it actually blood? Sap? The color seems to run away from your eyes - goldredwhiteyellowblackblackblack - covered with an iridescent sheen, an oil slick, pouring out and up and towards in ways that burn your eyes and soul. You need to leave. All around you, the Wonderland you've come to know burns like shadows in sunlight, or sunlight to shadow. The ceiling and walls and everything morphs to the inside of some unfathomably large tree. Roots and branches and gouged out holes, forming paths of the most non-ecludian sort. Some... things out of sight climb up and down in the darkness, looking for purchase, escape, travel. Far too many limbs, or none at all. You need to LEAVE. Not yet. You want to help. You need to help. You grab the nearest non-reclaimer - an elf, a visitor, someone - and they are both far too light and far too heavy. Stiff like wood in your hands. Their skin is gray, ashen, black veins in porcelain skin. Eyes gone solid black, they try to say something, but all that comes out is a spew of thick black tar - leaking from their eyes, ears, nose, vomit, cracks in their joints and once-flesh. The amorphous Black they just expelled pulses, then skitters down between the wood at your feet. You look at your skin. Your veins are too dark. Visible. Present. A weight builds in your heart, The Reclaimers (and Angus) can still move, bolt for what was once a cascade of colors, lights and joy. Now it's a gaping maw, jagged edges like splintered teeth around a hole like a cavity, sap like pus seeping out of the edges. The once-elevator now-branches bring you back to Shadowdale, covered in a charcoal smog that seems to smile at you from every angle. C. THE CAVALRY ARRIVES Lucretia, after receiving Sans' text about the current state of affairs within Wonderland, is faced with a decision that only she could make. Years ago, she came upon this place and lost decades of her life, all in an attempt to stop the mechanations of this horrific landscape. Her biggest failure, a thorn in her pride, she assembled the Bureau of Balance not long after her visit in order to take down places like this. People or things who obtain a power they should not have. She doesn't know why Wonderland is the way that it is, she can only guess that the Grand Relic has corrupted the World Tree down to its core. But more than that, more than the years she put onto her life for a wager of chess, more than the meticulous, maddening obsession she has with destroying every single one of these objects that threaten the world- her Reclaimers are here. Her Reclaimers. Against the judgment of most of her advisers and Moon Base employees, she grits her teeth and holds tight to her staff. Carey, Killian, and Lucretia descend upon the forests of the Cormanthor region. It takes them far, far too long to make it through the wilds. The forest can sense when someone is coming to destroy it, and thus, sends everything it can against them. Enchantment after enchantment gets flung their way, but she knows better. She's seen Wonderland before and she reckons that no one has ever visited this place twice. Arriving in Shadowdale, she looks up to see Yggdrasil in its sad, sorry state. Clasping her staff in place, finally here, she is resplendent in her detestation of this unholy place. A few of you might be there at the base of the tree when Wonderland transforms into its hellscape, and you might see her approaching, purposeful, as if every step is one of reclamation and poise. Angus McDonald looks upon her and tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is that's going on. Lucretia warmly smiles at him. "Hello, Angus. I've heard much about you." "Ma'am?" But her attention is turned to another little boy, terrified otherwise. His face is darkened, sickly colors rooting through his veins and showing up against a pale skin. Niel. Ah, she remembers him, too. Her face gives no sign of anger, of fear, or resentment. "Don't worry, Niel. We'll free you from that monster." She doesn't renege on her promises. Lucretia slams her white oak staff on the ground and in an instant, a flash of brilliant luminescence fills all of Shadowdale, expelling the darkness that lingers around the corners of the sleeping town. She erects a magic dome from the center of her origin, expanding out from her as she concentrates on her magic. Lucretia's gifted in the arcane herself, you see, and a giant Globe of Invulnerability spell now blocks entrance nor exit from this zone. And for the first time in centuries, Shadowdale sees sunlight. Carey and Killian flank her. She needs to concentrate on this spell in order to keep it active, and they're there to stop anyone who thinks about getting in her way. D. NEW RULES OF WONDERLAND It's a zero-sum game here that Adrian is wagering. Lucretia didn't bring Dr. Tank down to Shadowdale for a very specific reason; an expert chess player herself, she always thinks in terms of move by move encounters. She figures that the rules would change quickly once the Reclaimers had figured out what was behind the curtain, so to speak. There's no way that Wonderland would allow healing or restoration of a body within its confines. She aims to cut this place off from the outside world. To quarantine it away from escape and cage it inward like an animal. No, Dr. Tank would be useless here, and if anything... dangerous, to put their chief of medical staff here in the middle of the mission. And thus, no one can come in or out of the area once she's erected the barrier. Returning to base is no longer an option for the remainder of the mission, including any and all facilities provided by its administration: Bender's food, Fantasy Costco, items you may have left behind, etc. Those of you who have opted out of the horror plot for the month will most likely be spending your time in Shadowdale for the next two weeks, providing back up and support to Lucretia. The work you do out here is equally as important as the work that needs to be done on the inside. Whereas the forest was quiet and still before, it seems to have taken on a new life of its own, now that it senses the Source of its life deeply threatened. Killian takes command from here on out. Anyone not willing to go up to Wonderland needs to stay down here and stop the encroaching darkness from attacking. And she means that, literally. As you look around the outskirts of town, the dome extending well beyond the vantage point you can see, there are creatures, made of darkness, dripping a deeply red sap that sparkles in the newfound texture of light Lucretia's spell provides. One bounds forward from the edge of a building, four legs crawling and made of pure shadow, and attempts to make an attack towards the Director. Carey cuts it down as it splits into two and vanquishes into a dark dust. "What the hell are these ugly gods-damned things?!" Some of you might've noticed it before in your rolls, but in the light provided by Lucretia's spell, there's no denying it. Negativity forms a dark cloud straight from Carey's mouth, as her eyes go wide at the sight of it. The monster at her feet, now a cloud of dust, seems to feed on it as it reassembles back into its form. What the actual fuck. Back to top 3. A TASTE OF GOOD SUFFERING E. REEDS GROWING OUT OF MY FINGERTIPS The Wonderland the Reclaimers and Angus find themselves in now looks nothing like the Wonderland they left behind. The feel of it is similar, except that the creeping dread has officially crept. It's here now, fully-formed and breathing down the back of every single neck. What was whispered before is screamed now: Wonderland is here to hurt you. The fun it seeks is not for you, but fuel for something else, something you haven't found yet. Nonetheless, you're here to feed it. And so, you begin to realize, is Yggdrasil. The naturally-minded among you begin to realize it with sickening certainty: the roots, the veins, the stiffness and the ever-present tarlike substance stem from the sickness of the World Tree. Wonderland, and all of you, are within Yggdrasil's rot now — and as much as it tries to reject this magic, the insidious power of the Compact has taken over too far. The tree is dying. Inside of it as you are, you can practically feel it. The entire place is a warren, structured like the tree it's draining the life out of. From the central trunk, the central locations that used to be Squares slide off from the main body in long, twisting branches that turn in nonsensical directions before abruptly coming to a halt. Each Square exists in uncomfortable parody here — or maybe the original was the cruel joke, because the purpose of Wonderland is suffering. At any turn in your path through the channels of Wonderland, you'll be swimming through darkness creeping in on all sides. No light can penetrate past your periphery, with very few exceptions; you are a moving lantern in this blackness, functioning on faith that whatever comes at you, a mystery until the last moment, will be something you can handle. Stumble into Battle Square and find yourself face-to-face with a monster of vicious intelligence and amorphous shape, delighted to cut you to ribbons over a period of hours while telling you every secret shame you've ever harbored. In Event Square, a knot midway up the endless trunk, time goes taffy-sticky as you trip through loops of memory blasted on every wall, loud and confusing and overwhelming, going on for what seems like forever. There's more, of course — more discrete spaces than you could even see in Wonderland. Any manner of horror you can consider can be found here, as vast as Yggdrasil itself. One or two places, though, will be particularly easy to recognize — and difficult to escape. F. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU Sometimes, investigation gives us little tips and tricks for solving the next stage of the puzzle. For example: Michael found a map to the mirror maze, back in the first iteration of Wonderland. But unfortunately, sometimes the setting also cheats. Ghost Square is still here — but maps aren't going to do you any good. Enter this section of Wonderland and the door behind you doesn't exist anymore. It doesn't pop out of existence; it just isn't, like it never was, like maybe you imagined it in the first place. A hallway, apparently manmade, stretches out in front of you, dark and cold. It appears to be approximately 60 feet long. The walls are black. When you reach out to touch them, they are freezing to the touch and too smooth to be natural, not shiny enough to be polished, too hard to be plant matter. You have no idea what they are, but touching them saps the warmth out of you, so you stop. You keep walking, a halo of light around you but stretching no further than a few feet in any direction. You walk for 60 feet. The hallway keeps going. It hasn't gotten longer, but it hasn't gotten shorter, either. It keeps going. It keeps going. You continue until your feet hurt or you get sick of this bullshit, whichever comes first, and then you turn back the way you came. Maybe you think you'll see a door, or maybe you're not thinking very clearly anymore. Back the way you came, there is a staircase. It wasn't there before. You certainly didn't pass it. It spirals down into the depths. It could be a story deep or a hundred. You have no way to know. You turn back towards the direction you originally walked, and there is only a wall. It's the spiral staircase or it's nothing. You go down. As you descend, it gets colder. Colder and darker, and the darkness and cold press against you, creep under your skin and make you shake. The halo of light around you begins to dim the deeper you go. If you go deep enough, it will be hard to tell what's light and what's your imagination. Because really, honestly? The longer you stay in this place, the more you begin to think you're hearing things. Whispers just beyond your ability to decipher. A soft laugh, like that of a child or someone trying to stay quiet. And if you stop, or rest, or feel something negative — anger, frustration, sorrow, despair, it doesn't matter, because a black fog drifts out from between your lips. And in the distance, something roars. Just a little bit closer every time. Every once in a while, as you descend the staircase, you will pass a mirror with a red X taped near the top. Sometimes you'll see yourself in it. Sometimes you'll see something worse. When you get right down to it, what you get out of the world has a lot to do with what you put in — so we hope you're staying positive, or you might see something really nasty. G. THE SONG BEYOND THE SONG The aftermath of MARIA's destruction, the Area That Was Once The Night Show is a blasted husk. More than anywhere else, the walls ooze Yggdrasil's lifeblood from where something... was. Something large used to be chained here. Open gashes and empty sockets line the walls and floor. A large root knotted like a spine shoots through the very center of the room, a support pillar, entwined into the ceiling and floor and Everything of this cavern. Growths like tumors rise from the floor - what was once gambling tables look more like grasping hands. A few curl into themselves, knocked over, shattered to splinters in the wake of what was once there. Maria is gone. She is free. There is a sob. Small. Weak. Mortal. At the base of the pillar, half-absorbed into the plant matter of Yggdrasil is Stylosa. Black roots creep up through her arms, chest, face. Her tears are tinged black, but the eyes are still hers. One arm reaches out. She whispers 'please help, it hurt̷̟͂s̶͕̓ ̵̻͂ĩ̸̺t̸͔͐ ̴͙̍ḧ̷̜́ù̸̘r̶̢̓t̶́͜s̸̫͒ ̸͑ͅî̶̺Ṱ̴̿ ̵̠̃H̷̙͊U̸̻̒R̶̯͛T̸͓͠S̸̢͌`- The world goes static, right then wrong then right again, and the original Wonderland surrounds you. Silent - for a second. An explosion of color and canned applause comes from behind you. What was once a stage opens once more. There is the Henrik some of you were searching for, skin plaster, eyes matte black, a rigor mortis smile across his face. His voice booms out of speakers that aren't there. "Welcome, one and all, as we embark on this, our first night! To the new and improved Night Show, with one hundred percent more audience participation!!! Guaranteed to keep you rooted to your seats, haha!" Confetti falls from nowhere, more false cheers from an invisible audience. He bows, stiff and chipped as a wind-up toy. It gives you a chance to angle your gaze to where there used to be an exit. It is there no longer. Doors appear and disappear in wrong places. Chandeliers swap between designs. The new Show is still trying to acclimate itself. "Now, I know some of you have had a bad time here before, but please romaine calm. We-" And then Da Vinci's Body, appearing from nowhere, the same black eyes and battered smile, smacks him upside the head. A slapstick comedy in all the worst ways. "That one doesn't work! We're in an ash tree!" "No, we're in a cactus!" "Ahahaha! Oh, Henrik, you know I'm a succa for your jokes!" Both them and the invisible audience crack out into raucous laughter, doing matching poses like they're both on the cover of Vogue magazine. They whisper something to each other and 'Da Vinci' runs off stage to prepare. "Tonight, in celebration, we'll be holding our first ever... talent show!!! Our main acts are just boooring now. You know what I mean? Look at this mess-" A hand waves out, and Minato unfolds up from the floor, harp welded into his hands, painted and decorated and held in place with pipes and wire. 'Da Vinci' waves her arms, unveiling the elaborate music box. His hands play against his will, plinking out the sad notes to a certain Velvet Room theme. He gets left alone in tired silence for a bit before a note goes off key. 'Da Vinci' yanks his face into the same smile, freezing it in place. TODAY IS A JOYOUS DAY, we are all so very HAPPY, and the eyes of 'Minato' go black. The room is filled with cheers and rainbows, an excited irish jig played out by their wind-up stage musician. 'Henrik' doesn't wander the room, choosing instead to make sure the background music keeps going. The statues and paintings once lining the walls bend before your eyes - reforming into memories from your home, replays of your failures, but all done up in catchy pop-art style and played for hilarity. Rather than Marias, all newcomers are visited by a black-eyed ghoul wearing a human skin. They hand out drinks and paperwork, what would you like to participate with in our talent show? The winner not only gets a job but- One wish from the Compact. Surely that's way more interesting than trying to get out, right? Back to top 4. OOC In order to keep to our goal of providing the most personalized Wonderland experience for all of you, we're setting a limit of 1 RNG attempt per character this log. Additionally, please be aware that while some mundane rolls will have standard-level DCs, many rolls, including those with the potential to uncover plot information, will be high-risk high-reward and will have a very high DC along with steep penalties for failure. As always, we will let you know of this before we roll, and you have the option to decline any roll at any time. If you would like to gain a bonus of +2 on any given roll, those who have opted in to horror content may make the choice to sacrifice something of body, mind, or spirit. We will determine your sacrifice based on your horror homework. It is up to you whether this sacrifice is for the duration of the mission or a permanent sacrifice. As an additional reminder, there is no healing in Wonderland. To a few of you, this will be even more detrimental than usual. To those of you who went too far with your debts or your choices, who have lost your very Selves to Wonderland. A list: ○ Michael ○ Kaede Akamatsu ○ Minato Arisato ○ Akira Kurusu ○ Guido Mista ○ Ryuji Sakamoto ○ Leonardo da Vinci ○ Willard H. Wright Despite Lucretia's spell, the Light won't effect you guys. Over the course of part 2 you'll find you're slowly falling prey to what hit everyone else in wonderland. Your skin will turn pale, your veins will turn dark, you'll start vomiting viscous Abyss that occasionally comes to life, and eventually your eyes will turn black and you will Petrify. Should you as a player not want to play out the vomiting part, it can be exchanged with breathing out black mist. Whichever's cool with your school guys. The speed/intensity of this change and all of its symptoms is also up to you. There are two exceptions. Da Vinci, while she is still a Roland, will simply start going rotten, seams growing old and fur collapsing away. Constant Mending will mitigate this, but she's on a timer to get her body back now. Willard will find that as the hardening of the glass continues, it will start to lose all color and begin to crack in places. These cracks will leak the same tar infecting the other players. Minato, despite being a Music Box right now, is still in his physical body and is not an exception. On a more general note, we encourage you to make your own mini-horrorscapes in this setting! The entirety of Wonderland is available to dark-side, with the exception of what we've already laid out for Ghost & Wonder Squares. Improvise and make a mess. Just make sure to tag anything warning-worthy. Anything on the OOC post is fair game, and if there's something you'd like to try, please don't hesitate to let us know on the RNG thread. Should you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post linked above. Back to top blurb code by photosynthesis

Comments

[eudaimonikos]

They're fine. Most of them are still petrified, but the train only got you.

[Michael falls quiet, looking over at the other bodies in the pharmacy. He hadn't realized exactly what happened at first. He saw that Eleanor saved the others on her track by antagonizing Adrien, yes. But it wasn't until later, after they'd left the tree and sorted themselves out as best they could, that Battler told him about what he'd done with the light. About Eleanor's message.

It had all been her choice.

His forced evenness can't last, talking to her. When he speaks again, without quite looking back at her, he sounds like he's holding back tears.]

You really solved the - [But she doesn't remember that. He laughs wetly at himself, though the realization hurts, and tries again.] - solved the trolley problem, huh?

[coolranchbaby]

[It's hard not to hear the way he chokes up but she'll tease him about it later...when she's not also feeling her chest tighten from something other than physical pain.]

What, like it's hard? [She reaches out and lays her hand on his arm, giving it a small squeeze.] Don't want to sacrifice a bunch of people? Just sass the train itself until it decides to murder just you.

[eudaimonikos]

[It's fine, he's got no shortage of embarrassing Eleanor stories.]

Yeah. [Sniff] Makes total sense.

[He knits his hands together and hangs his head. It feels bad, that he's circled his way back around to thinking about her memories. She's the one who died. What does it matter how he feels?

But it's worse that she'd question him using the dice. Of course he had to. He'd do worse.]

Eleanor, you know I... [Shit. This is hard.] I know that we only met a few months ago, as far as you're concerned. I'm basically a stalker who ruined all of your lives. But for me, I've known you for a really long time. And most of it was bad, I told you that. But, you know, over time, we - we spent a lot of time together, in the last reboot. You were much kinder to me than I deserved. And I...

[He gestures wordlessly between them. He's usually better with words than this. But he's also usually not like this.]

You know I did have to use the dice. I would do it again.

[coolranchbaby]

[It's kind of funny. Two years ago she would have still been upset at him for using his dice- not entirely out of a concern for his well-being but because she would have felt like now she owed him some kind of massive debt for trying to help her, as deep as any Wonderland could magically conjure up. But debts are the farthest thing from her mind right now. She's a dead woman walking, at least for the time being, but Michael, this demon she's known for hundreds of years and who tortured her and who became someone she trusted, still has a chance.

Eleanor typically isn't one much for physical affection but still she leans in despite the pain that rips through her body and wraps her arms around Michael, pulling him into a hug with her head against his chest.]

I know you would. And I don't want you to have to.

[rockymountaindie]

[ The fact of the matter is, there are far too many people who need medical attention in Wonderland. Everything's a little too busy, a little too crowded. As such, Alex isn't meaning to intrude on this moment.

What he's meaning to do is do another sweep for burn ointment. They're giving him trouble, and... Well, he can hope, can't he?

It's stupid of him to think this would be an unoccupied room.

Only focusing on his own pain, he pushes into the room shoulder-first, to see- well.

Alex goes shock-still as he registers Michael there. And someone he doesn't know - Eleanor, maybe, given what he's been told - but it's Michael that he focuses on, mouth dry. For the record, he looks an utter mess. His wrists have been re-braced, more carefully splinted, but his hands are completely wrapped in gauze and bandage. Maybe it's a good thing he can't feel them. He's swapped clothes, as his previous set was...scorched, to say the least, leaving him in a loose robe and underclothes that hint at the damage underneath--a bandaged right arm, something around his side...

Overall, he looks like he lost a horrible fight with a flamethrower. ]

Mi- Michael. [ A rough stammer. He takes a few steps back, clearly favoring his left leg. ] I- I'm sorry, I- I didn' realize, I can leave.

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael rests his chin against the top of Eleanor's head with a sigh, and wraps his arms carefully around her as if it's something precious. He can count the genuine hugs they've shared on one hand. It makes the horrible twisting in his gut settle somewhat, even if that wasn't all of it - not even close. She doesn't even know what he did. He's not sure he can handle telling her right this moment, but he'll need to do it soon.

He makes sure his voice is even before he replies. He's felt scraped raw these past two days, but he is just so sick of crying. It's embarrassing and it gives him a headache.]

I really do love you. I'll figure out how to do this right one of these days. I promise.

[Maybe it's for the best that, before that earnestness can catch up to him, the entire moment is shattered.

There's an analytical part of Michael's mind, born from millennia of training and experience, that hasn't just died in the past two or three years. He sizes Alex up at a glance: the ruined hands, the burns, the limp, the fear. All signs that read beaten, but not broken yet. That's an easy job, the best job. Broken humans grow dull, but those with fear left in them will still scream and cry and struggle like the day they died. If you let them, they'll run until that leg gives out underneath them, and Michael always let them. It was so much more satisfying.

He can picture it exactly. He can picture the burns. Guilt and newfound squeamishness curdle together in his stomach. And isn't it abominably selfish, that one of his first reactions to the kid he torched is "oh no, I bet his burns look gross"? That's awful! He's awful.]

No! [He yelps, jerking upright and back away from Eleanor, out of that precious fleeting hug, in the same stumbling motion. His gaze is firmly fixed anywhere but on either human, not even really on where he's going.] No, sorry, I'm - I'm going. Was just leaving.

[Alex is still blocking the front entrance, so Michael doesn't even attempt that way. Instead, he practically bolts for the door in the back of the pharmacy, scattering the medicine stacked on the counter and slamming the door behind him in his haste.

Belatedly, he remembers that the pharmacy does not have a back door. This is a supply closet. An empty, dark supply closet.

He sags back against the nearest wall, and removes his glasses to scrub at his face. Fine. Whatever. Who cares? Alex needs to be in the pharmacy a lot more than he does; he'll just stay in here until he leaves! It probably won't even be that long! Even if it is, fuck him anyway.]

[coolranchbaby]

[In Eleanor's life, there have been very few people who've said the words "I love you" to her and even fewer people she's said it to herself (a grand total of two and both of them Stone Cold Steve Austin-related). She's cared about people, absolutley, but saying or hearing "I love you" has always been a huge waving red flag for her.

And then Michael has to go and drop it while they're both weepy and vulnerable and then, before she can even react, he's pulling away from her and running away because that's just how it always goes, isn't it? Someone says they care about her and then without fail they're gone. The only new thing about it is that it's not her who's running.]

Michael-! [...that's a closet. Michael just ran into a closet and she's stuck in her makeshift bed with a severely injured kid (what was his name again? Something with a B?) and the mortifying ordeal of being known on top of the pain exploding from her joints.

So she's going to do what any self-respecting Shellstrop would do- cram down all those feelings and vulnerability immediately and then one day she'll die. Again.]

Shit- Hey, uh...Casper! [#nailed it] You look like hell. Let's get you a band-aid or something. [If she can even get up which, given that sidekick gave her a 2, she starts to only to have her legs almost immediately and send her crashing to the floor.] Fuck!

[rockymountaindie]

[ Casper? ...Does he look like a Casper?

That thought goes out the window, along with his intentions of booking it out of here, as soon as presumably-Eleanor (she was around camp, wasn't she, yeah he remembers her-?) eats shit. Immediately, Alex limps forward with little regard for his own injuries. ]

Hey, hey hey hey, e-easy, easy there, you're not-- mmnn damn it c'mon, easy!

[ Gingerly kneeling down, he tries to help her up. ...Sidekick gave him an 8, so that's not going too well. ]

tw: emeto

[eudaimonikos]

Eleanor?

[In the closet, Michael had his hands clapped over his mouth, trying not to cough as the negativity he was feeling welled up in his throat and chest. He doesn't want Alex to know that he's still in here. But the sound of Eleanor in distress will always get his attention. He peeks out of the closet, his voice pitching high in alarm. Everything is terrible, and seeing her crashing to the floor only makes it all worse.

When he sees what's happening - how both of them are just stuck on the ground now - he rushes over to Eleanor's other side. He'll just try to somehow help her up without brushing Alex or making eye contact with anybody. Distantly, he does regret rushing off on Eleanor like that; they were having a moment, okay? He inclines his head towards her, murmuring:]

Come on, don't try to get up. You were dead ten minutes ago -

[But he chokes. He can still see Alex. He's still way too close. Michael is going to try to at least get Eleanor supported back on the table before he turns away and lets the tarry substance spill out of his mouth and onto the ground.]