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

I don't care.

[...

well-] Not soup. [Knife currently has an ill-fitting face for slurping soup.] I don't get picky.

Not soup, ok.

( nodding, he drops himself down alongside shadow here and starts walking, arms at his sides and cape gently flowing behind him for a second or two. )

Did you end up at that WcDonalds place around here with all those snakes? Yuck!

Snakes? [she looks incredulous.] I, uh, don't really make it a habit to be around animals, so. So no. Can't say I have. Let's avoid that, yes?

( his face scrunches up as he chuckles a bit, a nod given to shadow. )

Works for me.

( he keeps close to shadow there as they go, weighing his options of where they should end up for a bite to eat. while figuring that out, he looks up to shadow some. )

Have you been here in Etraya long?

How long is long? [the question isn't a contrarian jab, compared to the other ones. it's actually rather genuine!]

Uh… well. I’ve been here for… maybe two months now?

( gosh, he really needs to give that a bit of a think! )

The last mission was my first one here.

Longer than that. [... how many missions? Knife...isn't really good at keeping track. time doesn't move by days, it moves by moments, and even then, those get washed together based on the feelings they stoke. since so many have been full of confusion, dread, isolation...it's like it's all been one, long thing, yeah?

except for the fucking Box.]

Four or five missions? I guess? I 'unno.

Well, you've definitely got more experience with them than me. I hope they aren't all like that last one. Or being around faeries.

( he's not sure how to feel about that one yet. )

Do you have friends or family from where you're from here with you?

[she's got no good comment to spare, nothing but unpleasant omens, so she kindly keeps mum on that.

though, to the query, he gets a bitter:] Of course not. That privilege is for you better sorts.

( at that, he looks over. )

You mean it's just you here?

[her sour glare stays very pointedly forward, unblinking.]

Juuuust me here.

Sorry.

( he looks forward himself. )

Well, if you ever need some company here, at least you know I'm around.

[sc-scoff!] We're not here for company, kid. I don't even know why our jailer thinks little kids should be here, but what do I know?

( he shrugs at that. )

I don't know. Maybe because I help keep people safe back home?

( he's not exactly on the justice league or anything, but! he and robin have done their fair share of helping others out... and getting into trouble, but. details! )

Child soldiers now, huh. [she spits on the ground.] Probably tracks.

Not everyone can protect themselves and if I have the means to, I want to. It's the right thing to do.

( needless to say, he's a little concerned about the whole being responsible for proving his world is worth saving, but. it's not like he's the only one here from home. still. he doesn't like the thought of potentially pitting others against each other at some point over worlds being deemed worthy. )

Do you know if anyone's world here has been saved yet?

No. No proof. Just a lot of [wiggling her hands in the air:] Trust me! You're doing great! Now go have fun being poisoned or gluing food to paper!

[scoff.] It's probably a lie. Or if it's not, we're not being used honestly. Wouldn't surprise me.

Do you know what happens to people when they leave here? Like... they really go back home? And why do they leave while some stay? Did they fail to prove their world is worth saving? Or they proved it was and now there's no point in having them here anymore?

( he sighs a little as he looks ahead, clearly something that's been on his mind a bit. )

I just wish I knew.

How should I know? Who's to say these people we're rescuing aren't the ones who already disappeared? We got no proof of anything, 'cuz we're not free to find out. [and it sucks!]

You sound pretty mad.

( he's just. you know. sayin' and all. )

Of course I'm mad! Why aren't you mad?

'cause I'm hungry.

( and as if on cue, there goes his stomach growling. )

...

[...

you know what. fair.

but also: Antigone, a superior specimen, can be hangry.]

Just. Justjust, there. There. [she points at the cafe she recognizes.] There.

( seeing the cafe, jon perks up almost instantly and hurries his way forward before he stops and gestures for her to follow. )

Come on! Let's see what they have!

( and off he goes again with his quick little steps, cape flowing behind him. )

[Antigone plods after, still roiling with hanger, tail twitching and ears cocking this way and that as she goes. she is more timid upon entryway as is often the case with her: too often she feels a sense of trespass in shops and diners, especially in this near-desolate city where crowds should be. there's no groups to get lost in! you're just! exposed!

and the fucking robots...

she growls at the one that greets her, already walking around the counter.] Outta my way. [she's climbing up on the counter to get to the pastry display.]

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