ic inbox

[headjacked]

Heyyyyyyyy, kiddo, you've reached me. Me who is Rhys. Anyway, not sure why you're trying to get in contact with the king of the dweebs, but I'm sure you've got your reasons. Reasons you should probably re-examine. I'm just sayin'.

Last chance to back out.

No?

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Comments

[phaseshifter]

Try not to strain anything while you think. D'you want a hand? Or you could just. Tie that around your wrist or your neck or something. Your ankle looks kinda sore.

[ It's a small fuss, but it's a fuss nonetheless. Just like old times! ]

[headjacked]

Other people might see it. You seriously weren’t the only person I didn’t tell.

[ Pause. ]

Should I? Just... let it hang out?

[phaseshifter]

dick joke

[phaseshifter]

Why not? There's no reason to be ashamed of it.

[ And it's more tasteful than hauling around Dumpy all the time. She's not going to bring that up again now, though. ]

There aren't even very many of us left who know what it is.

[headjacked]

Can you help me make a necklace?

[phaseshifter]

Of course I can. It's been way too long since we had a good arts and crafts session.

[ Like. Over a decade? Holy shit. ]

[headjacked]

With as much bling as we can, of course. Wo -- would he love that, or hate that?

[phaseshifter]

He'd love it. Remember those stupid gold statues in Opportunity? You must've seen the ads...

[ And those have been featuring pretty heavily in her dreams for the last few days, the memory recent enough to make her wince slightly. Eurgrhrg. ]

The glitter glue may have dried up by now, though.

night 298 probably shut up it's backdated to fuck; action;

[phaseshifter]

Rhys.

[ It's nighttime. There are sleep piles. Some of the sleep piles feature people who have been recently stabbed.

GOOD TIME FOR A TALK AMIRITE!!

Meaning Angel is quietly-but-insistently nudging Rhys in the ribs. He probably doesn't need the sleep anyway. ]

Psssst. Are you awake?

[headjacked]

Ange...?

[ Surprisingly enough, Rhys is awake. Almost totally alert, even, despite being curled up with Dumpy snuggled into his chest.

He doesn't need the sleep. Or. He doesn't feel like needs as much. ]

Yeah, just -- shhh, I don't think anyone else is.

[phaseshifter]

Oh!

[ Is it hypocritical to be concerned that Rhys is awake even though she was just trying to wake him up? Because yeah that's a thing. ]

Maybe we should... evacuate the pile. For a minute. I wanna talk about some things, and I don't want to chance D-U-M-P-Y hearing.

[ Which probably makes it obvious what she wants to talk about. Time to extricate herself from the pile! Carefully. So as not to wake the stablets. ]

[headjacked]

A minute, huh?

[ Rhys looks incredulous. As if any of their conversations could span a minute. Conversations outside of the one-offf dork/brat exchanges.

He gets up, tucking Dumpy next to the stablords before moving to a baby robot free location. ]

Where - where do you wanna start?

I GOT NO NOTIF FOR THIS JSYK

[phaseshifter]

Uh. Perhaps with the obvious. I'm sorry that future me was such a - an asshole about the Dumpy stuff.

[ "The Dumpy stuff" being the least awful way she can think of to say "the way you carried the lil dude's corpse around everywhere like the saddest metal security blanket." ]

I - uh, she did care. Which was kinda the problem? Seeing him around like that made it hard not to, and I was worried about how it was affecting you and-- just. Sorry. For that.

Day 301; action

[bookofnope]

[It's been an odd day for all of them, with the sense of reality shifting, things spinning in their own minds. Between that and the beginnings of cabin fever, Beckett has given up on productive experimentation, and elected to spend much of the day sleeping. More rest is never unwelcome in Norfinbury after all.

Except in the middle of the day he wakes up with a start, stares briefly into space, and proceeds to freak the hell out.

It is a very quiet, contained freakout. He's experienced at those. With the cloak drawn tight, and walking fast down the corridors, no one can tell that he's shaking all over. Thank God he can even manage to move his legs in any sensible way. By the time he finds Rhys and drags him to a quiet out of the way corner, though, he's all spent with that effort. He practically collapses into a crouch, shaking like a leaf.]

Rhys. Remind me. The Book. When you and Angel - remind me - what did I do?

[headjacked]

Easy -- easy!

[ Rhys can feel Beckett's shaking as he stumbles, pulled down into the crouch with him. He flinches. Looks away. Eventually, his eye makes contact again. The expression is not unlike the one he wears around Enoch. ]

We... destroyed it and you...

[ Though he knows what ought to be right, the memory of teeth in his throat is still sharp and bizarrely fresh. ]

...you couldn't have -- you definitely didn't do anything.

[bookofnope]

[Keyed up as he is, all senses flaring, Beckett can tell that something is very wrong about Rhys's response. His breathing makes a strangled sound deep in the throat - he really does not want to break down coughing now - he reaches out and half braces against Rhys's shoulder, half holds him in place.]

I didn't - I did. I don't know what I remember. I don't know what really happened. What did I do?

[headjacked]

[ The problem with this particular set of memories is that, why he’s sure the horrifying version of events is false, it’s... almost clearer than the actual sequence. He was behind the wheel, not Jack.

Still. He takes a deep breath and returns Beckett’s gesture, keeping him steady and grounded. If they both panic they’ll spiral into self-destruction. ]

Nothing. What we’re remembering, it didn’t happen. I’m telling you, Beckett, you did-didn’t hurt us.

[ Even when he’s trying to be the strong one, Rhys tears up. ]

[bookofnope]

[They kind of are both panicking already. It's sad to look at, and Beckett dearly wishes he could defuse it with some healthy snark. Alas nothing about them is healthy. They clutch at each other like exactly the kind of terrified children the town seems to actively want to reduce them to. He hates it. He hates how easy it is. The tampering with memories. With reality. The doubt.]

How do you know? I'm not sure, I think I'm sure and then I don't - it seems just as real. I remember everything. It could have happened. That is exactly how it could've happened.

[headjacked]

It feels — wrong, right? I mean. Wrong wrong.

[ It twists at his guts for sure, but there is this intristic wrongness in the memories he’s glad he can’t shake.

Doesn’t make them any less vivid or terrifying, but there is that. ]

Here...

[ Rhys sniffles and grabs a half-frozen water bottle, pressing it against the back of Beckett’s neck. It’s certainly cold enough in the room, but Rhys always finds this helpful. Painfully cold, something to concentrate on other than the panic. ]

[bookofnope]

[Not expecting the cold treatment at the least, Beckett jumps at the touch of the ice. It does do a terrific job of startling him out of the spiral of panic, though. He could kiss Rhys for that bit of pragmatic thinking alone.]

Gah! You - ugh. [He shivers violently now, but hell, he'll take it.] You really are sure. You... you wouldn't risk making me jump if you weren't.

[headjacked]

Oh, I-I didn’t really... get that far with my thought progress, I just. Wanted you to feel better regardless.

[ Rhys laughs nervously, still a half-wreck himself. He presses the ice bottle against his own cheek, breathing deeply again. ]

But I’m still sure. I have new nightmare fuel, but that’s all it is.

[bookofnope]

Maybe you didn't think about it, but still... you did it. [Beckett is of the opinion that Rhys often doesn't realize how brave he is to do something until after he's done it.

His breathing is a little steadier now. He coughs and clears his throat, rubs his face. Chasing down calm bit by bit.] It... could have happened. I only realize now, how close I'd been back then...

[headjacked]

Could have. Didn’t. Won’t. That was - would’ve been a set of very special circumstances.

[ It’s not every day you have your past and identity shredded and burned before your eyes. Cautiously, Rhys pulls back, though he’s ready to steady Beckett again if need be. ]

So... we just avoid m...m-majorly pissing you off, and everything’s gravy.

[bookofnope]

[Majorly pissing him off is an understatement, and Beckett is sure Rhys knows that, but it doesn't make him much easier. Just the fact that there had been a line, anything that had swept away his reason, his loyalty to that extent...]

All of Norfinbury is a special goddamn circumstance. [It's not comforting. He doesn't want to scare Rhys - God knows how much he doesn't - but this is Beckett. He doesn't sugarcoat.] Bloody hell, and you've just begun to mend things with Enoch, haven't you.

[headjacked]

[ He does know, of course. It's just Rhys being Rhys, trying to keep it as light as he can. ]

I wouldn't say 'just begun', we're -- we hang out! And that's -- that was different. Felt... different.

Plus... in the years and years and YEARS you've been around, how many times have you actually lost control like that?