etrayalogs | vacillating [OPEN]

Entry tags:

vacillating [OPEN]

WHO: Knife (as Antigone/Pending), ota
WHEN: Mid-late Oct
WHERE: Assorted, tagged in prompts
WHAT: the up- and downswings of being overly exposed against one's will while stuck in a bubble zoo
NOTES\WARNINGS: mentions of dissociation & depersonalization, violent/suicidal thoughts, violence (attempted or otherwise), rampant swears/coarse language

i. badgerlike habits
warnings: attempted violence (or actual violence if you're up for it!)

[the encampment in Dewpoint can, at times, add some interesting ambiance to the frost-laden area, what with its gentle tinkling of chime-like glass shards and bottlecaps dangling from tree branches. it's a nice sound, even if the aesthetics are rather trashy (in that there is a lot of trash about).

however, now and then, someone gets too close and the tinkling of materials takes on a more intentional sound when a length of wire is pulled underfoot. then, then there's a growling and a sudden glint off metal in the light - a scalpel flung close to the offending foot.]

SCRAM! [the voice is muffled behind layers of fabric - from one of those flapping tent-flaps.] Walk around, wherever you're going!

ii. humanlike efforts
warnings: n/a in starter

...

[Maybe...maybe this would feel better if there were more than like. Six fucking people in a place at a time. Right now I feel like the world's shittiest stalker-spy.

...

Maybe I'm THIS world's shittiest stalker-spy.

Yay, me.

Pending's...making attempts to be a person, here. A person doing person-things like...picking up food! at the Otto-Mart! they may or may not be shadowing someone in there and...matching their aisle movements and selections and watching what they do.

or it's simply taking a walk outdoors and stopping short when whomever was ahead of them appears to be doing something of import, watching to see just what that important thing is and whether or not he needs to be making a habit of doing it, too.

or it's just...sitting at a distance and watching someone else read a book or work on something, their own hands empty of distractions. memorizing gesture, maybe slightly twitching a finger here or there to mimic while they memorize features and mannerisms.

apparently people-watching is normal so this? this is normal. this is very normal. Knife just feels like shit regularly so there's no cause for concern that this, too, feels like shit. good job, everyone.]

iii. rabbit-hearted impulses
warnings: n/a in starter

[multiple evenings in a row, Antigone makes to approach a diner or a bar or food shop, stands mere steps away from the entrance, fidgets a bit, leaves, comes back, then leaves again. something about the inviting warmth of their interiors is doing the opposite - making them seem ominous, a threat of a bad time. it's annoying that so many of these places never turn their lights off; maybe it'd feel better if she were actually doing something wrong as opposed to just feeling like she is.

it's the prospect of being seen and asked how she's doing that stresses her out the most: a dozen-plus answers bouncing along the sliding scale of cynicism flit about, but none taste right on her tongue, especially when imagining certain faces on the receiving end of them. guilt? guilt for what! not...doing well? fucking stupid, honestly. who even cares?! aside from the...handful of people who decided to make caring, like, their goddamn jobs. which isn't her fault!

...

well, another amble up, another lingering pause, and another failed effort sends Antigone back out of the borders of the street lights, only to hasten with panic when she hears door hinges squeak open. she scrambles into an alley for cover to hold her breath and try and sort this out again, maybe chalk it up to another failure and settle for garbage again.]

iv. disruptive tendencies
warnings: n/a in starter

[it's the lack of control that's really the problem, isn't it? the overwhelming pressure of tasks too big to accept as their own coupled with the ennui that makes itself comfortable when all those too-big tasks leave mind and hands free. Knife can control the way they appear outwardly, but it changes nothing but that appearance. laying in a miserable stupor works in little intervals, but hunger pangs cut into that quiet idle time and prompt them to move once more.

create or destroy seem to be the most favorable options: they've picked at clothes here and there when the meditative patience lasts, but the futility of the effort always catches up and leads them to abandoning their work to follow the impulse to move. here and there, bits of newly-embroidered jackets or layered scarves or the like can be picked up around Dewpoint and Alcyone's Wake in particular, no owners come to call.

for now, the grocery store's been pilfered of a fair amount of its egg stock for the day, a boxful of cartons toted away to another street.

Pending is sitting on the backrest a bus stop bench, feet on the seat by the cartons, periodically picking one up and lobbing it out at the water, at nearby animals, at passing helper bots, at signage or buildings within range.

the waste is the point - it's change, however brief. this place is a little uglier until the mess is picked up. childish, perhaps, but he's not here to be a model adult. he's not here for any good goddamn reason!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Antigone's eyeing him up and down, playing the world's worst game: Are they a hobbit or a human child. a few more furtive checks on the foot size and she's pretty sure she's safe to assume humanspawn. Great.

Echo, what the FUCK are you doing.]

Uh, maybe after the fae stuff, kid. Just use Shadow for now, 'kay? So, the glass...?

( he nods at that. )

Ok. Nice to meet you, Shadow.

( he offers his hand for a handshake but then the glass is brought up again and he blinks before he's reaching around behind him and tugging the spyglass out from the waistband of his jeans. true to his word, he has with him a spyglass and it looks... like a spyglass would. )

This is it. I asked Aurora for something to help with the last mission and this is what I got. It came with a note that said I will show you things as they truly are.

( hence, the being able to see through illusions. )

[at that description, it takes a lot of willpower to not slap the thing straight to the ground and start trying to break it just out of raw panic. Antigone stays willfully still, looking faintly ill as she keeps a lid on that.

she gulps, then holds out a hand.]

Mm, may I-?

[she's just gotta be fuckin' sure. already, Knife's rushing to assure themself it's fine - being a changeling isn't an illusion in the school of illusory magic, even if their visages are illusions in a sense, it's fine, this is fine, it's fine--]

( jon's reflexes are superhumanly quick, so he's liable to stop her there if she does try and break it, but... that would be rude of her to do since he wants to use this to help finding the missing people. :c

gently, he places the spyglass in her hand but doesn't let go of it yet. instead, he looks to her rather curiously, noticing how she doesn't look too eager or happy with this. )

Are you ok?

[fingers twitch and then tighten on the device, fighting off that compulsion to drop it like it's ~~hot~~ made of lava or something.]

Y-yeah! Yeah. Y'know. Just...just...checkinggggg things out! [her voice squeaks a bit with the work needed to keep from yelling. or cussing. or yelling cusses.

she lifts the glass to her eye to start peeking around, realizing there's no good fucking way to discreetly check herself but--ooh, wait. the glass on the doors! reflection! it--

OH THANK FUCK. Antigone still looks like Antigone there!

while keeping her head on a swivel, that tension waters out real quick, let out in a shaky breath.]

Well, auh...go on, kiddo-- [she fixes it on him.] Cast an illusion spell already!

( he's... not so sure she's ok, really, but. uh. what?? )

Cast a... spell?

( he visibly looks confused at that, hand coming up to rub at his neck and he blinks at her a couple times there. )

Uh... I'm not a magician? So I... can't do that. Sorry?

[she lowers the glass just enough so she can fix a squinty look at him.]

So. How do you even know this works, then? [If I've been fuckin' freaking out over a piece of trash...]

I told you. I used it in the fog. I was able to see what was real and what wasn't.

( was she not listening to him??? gosh, that's rude. )

O...kayyy... [she draws out the syllable while processing this and thinking the what-ifs out fast as she can. oh! got one:] But the stuff in the fog wasn't fae. That was...space poison.

I mean... they were illusions created by the fog. Aurora also told my mom that my spyglass would help with the new mission, too.

( therefore, why he wants to bring it with him. )

[Schyeah and everything Aurora says is always right and normal. Whatever, kid.

she tries and fails to not roll her eyes and sighs, holding the glass out for him to take.]

I gotta do everything myself... here. Turn around, then back when I say to, then have a look and see what you can see.

( taking the spyglass in hand, he blinks again before he throws his gaze around. )

Uh... ok.

( he'll just... go and turn around like he was asked to. )

[good sport, this kid, letting a lil furry boss him around for zero rewards...

Antigone exhales loudly to try and shake off residual jitters and then casts Mirror Image on herself.]

Okay. Have a look - no glass first, then glass. Can you tell a difference?

[in looking back, he'll see three of her, all flickering in place like a bad signal, all standing and looking precisely the same.

the funny glass will find the true Antigone in the trio no prahblem.]

( when he's told he can turn back around, he does, spyglass in hand there at his side and... there's suddenly three of her??? ok then. )

Uh... ok. Definitely wasn't three of you before.

( though, to be fair, magic is a bit of a weakness for him, so. it's not like he really would have been able to tell before, but. again. that's why he has the spyglass. which, bringing it up to his eye, he takes a look through it and sees only one of her then. )

There you are. ( to which he points to her, spyglass still held up. ) Right there.

[all three snap their fingers, but just one remains in the next flicker. Antigone solidifies and nods.]

Now you know it works on spellcraft. Not just space poison. [You're welcome.]

( bringing the spyglass down, he stares after her. curious. )

Wait. Are you a magician?

[hipster kid ugh noise.]

I know some stuff, but I don't do this for a career. Just things to get by. Anyway, [she does a shooing gesture.] go...do whatever it is you do. My questions are answered, so you're off the hook.

Off the hook for what?

( he's tucking the spyglass into the waistband of his jeans again as he asks. )

For any more questions from me, obviously! Congratulations. [she steps wide of him and walks around, entirely intending on dropping all communication right then and there because what are polite conversations can you eat them.]

( oh, so... is that it? he looks after her then… and even starts floating after her. yep. )

Wait. You don't want to help me with a disguise?

Edited 2025-11-09 05:41 (UTC)

[she stops, tail twitching, and squints up at him over her shoulder.]

For your dog?

His name’s Krypto you know. But yeah. He usually likes to wear a cape.

( you know. as most flying dogs do. )

[wearily:] I don't care, kid. I told you I don't think the dog is a good idea.

( drifting his way up alongside them, he gives a curious look. )

Are you sure you’re ok? Do you want to get something to eat?

[an ear cocks in the kid's direction, kind of betraying the piqued interest that Antigone's dulled expression is veiling.]

I'm not sure why any of that's your business. You're free to do whatever the heck you want. Go dress your stupid dog or whatever.

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