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!]

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( 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.]

( making his way in, he eyes the robots a little before his attention falls back onto her and she's... up on the counter. oh. at that, he hurries over to help. )

Hey, you shouldn't be up on there. People might eat there.

I'm people and I'm eating. [she pulls the door open and grabs a scone, lobbing it at the kid.] Here.

( catching the scone, he looks to it for a moment before his focus drifts back up to her. )

Yeah but have seats and tables to do that at.

( gosh. )

[JEEZ, this kid's so goddamn nitpicky! she lobs a few more things - muffin, donut, cinnamon roll - at him and then makes a shooing gesture.] Then go put them over there, alright? I'm workin' here!

( reflexes superhumanly quick, he catches everything tossed at him and huffs then as he turns just enough to still be looking at her while more towards a nearby table, too. )

You gotta come sit, too.

[automatically, without thinking:] Don't tell me what to do.

[beat. ...yeah, she's fine with that, and shoves a cakeball in her mouth, considering it, then opting to grab the remaining tray.]

But we're eating together.

( he's already laid the pastries out on the table for them on a plate he'd grabbed nearby. )

Is there anything to drink here, too?

Prawbly. [mouth full of cake makes the enunciation very cottony. cakey, if you will.] Uurhhh...

[as cats are wont to, Antigone walks along the countertop, looking around. the spout for water she can recognize, yes, yes, but where do all the other drinkmaking things happen? oh, wait! glass box! beverage shapes!

she hops the gap over to the back counter, finagling the fridge open and grabbing a random juice bottle.

after a swallow, she yells:] Here!

[and just throws that sucker.]

( juice in hand because heh! as if he COULDN'T catch that, he takes a seat for himself at the table there he's been lingering by and helps himself to one of the pastries he'd placed on the plate. )

So you know a lot about the fae? Are they common where you're from?

Knowing like, one or two things isn't really a lot, kid. [she meanders back to the pastry display to pick out more things and lob them on a tray to take with her.]

But they're enough of a problem that most anybody with a brain knows not to mess with them where I'm from. Plenty bad enough without adding those weirdos into things.

( stuffing his mouth a little, he gives himself a second or two before he continues talking. )

So they're a thing where you're from?

Something like that.

[she jumps off the counter, goodies spilling all over; she picks up a muffin off the floor, deciding the remainder isn't worth the effort, and moseys over, lobbing the tray onto the table first before climbing up on a chair. she'll just stand on this bad boy, since sitting would mean being eye-level with the edge of the table and booster seats are for BABIES.]

Same way like...I dunno. Birds are a thing. They're out there, doing whatever stuff they do, yeah?

( oh. well. at least she came over to eat with him?? small victories! )

Are you scared?

( he helps himself to another bite of his pastry. )

Of the fae.

[she scowls.]

I'm cautious. Same way anybody would be! [not...scared. Knife doesn't know enough about them to be properly scared, they're sure.]

Well, if you are, I was gonna say I can look out for you over there. We can look out for each other really.

( said as he finishes up with the first pastry and then goes onto the next... after a sip of juice of course. )

[her ears go back like a cat's.]

You're gonna be busy lookin' out for yourself, kid. And besides, if everyone's getting disguises, you won't know who's who! And that's how it's supposed to be.

Yeah, but I have the spyglass that sees through illusions, remember? And Aurora said it should help on this mission, so. I should be able to find you if you need help.

( yep. that's what he's going with! )

You better not-! [she points a finger, eyes narrowed.] If you blow my cover, you can't guarantee I won't get screwed! What do you know about fighting off fae magicks, anyhow, huh?

( scratching at his cheek, he gives that a think. )

Well... I guess not much. But you could tell me and then I'll know?

[What am I, a fuckin' wizard? C'mon, kid! I can't even READ!]

I told you what I know for sure! They can enslave you with your name, they're allergic to iron. Anything else is up in the air! They may shoot moonbeams out of their armpits for all I know!

( scarfing down more of the pastries there, he chuckles a little. )

That would be kind of funny though.

[she scoffs, taking a big chunk of muffin in a fist, wrapper be damned.]

Yeah, until you get moonburnt. [fistful of muffin enters maw. hormph.]

( he can’t help but chuckle a little again at that. he knows the mission is likely to be serious and that he’ll need to be careful, but. for now? for now he can just sit here with pastries and shadow and just… try not to think about that, especially with how messed up he’d gotten with the last mission; he’s really hoping nothing like that happens again. )

As long as I don’t lose my powers again, I think I should be good.

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rudelanguage - 2025-11-12 11:43 (UTC) - Expand

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