Richie Gecko (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notafuckingnut) wrote2012-05-02 03:00 pm
notafuckingnut) wrote2012-05-02 03:00 pm
Entry tags:
- [verse]: if the barge is a-rockin',
- a case of the sanes,
- floods are not low profile,
- floods have backlash,
- let's not do that again,
- life should stay away from technicolor,
- lua's such a mother hen,
- my ineffable warden,
- one step forward three steps back,
- paranoia will destroy ya,
- recognition is the first step,
- richie fails at life,
- save the cheerleader?,
- sound of silence,
- there's a lesson in here somewhere,
- too.much.crazy,
- wardens are supposed to be helpful right,
- you know that's on right?
[031] Like a memory long gone past, here in an instant, gone in a flash
[A/N: Backdated to the day after the Quirks Flood ended.]
[Something's...not right.
Everything was empty, quiet, for days, and looking back that had really been the weird thing, but once the flood wore off it all started to creep back. Flooded, really, inch by inch like a hole in the bottom of a barrel, nagging, prodding, filling the emptiness with words and noise until everything's too bright, too sharp, too everything, and he closes his eyes to try to escape it but it follows him there too.
They're watching. Just waiting for you to slip up, make a mistake, and you WILL. You always do. They KNOW. HE knows. He can see everything, remember?
Little by little, drop by drop, over years, it had been tolerable, barely noticed until it was too late to remember anything else anyway, but all at once, like this, it's more than he can handle, especially after it had all been taken away long enough for him to get used to its absence. It's a fleeting memory, but he still remembers the quiet, and that, above all, is what he wants right now, even if only a little piece of it, for a little while.]
[PUBLIC - audio]
[It's an accident, the first time he flips the feed on, a coincidence of fingers and a need for something tangible, and while there's no image to accompany it, the voice is recognizable, although...uneasy, bordering on anxious.]
Just...stop.
[The feed cuts out as suddenly as it started.]
[PRIVATE to Castiel - audio]
Stop looking. I'm not doing anything.
[PRIVATE to Lua - audio]
You holding at all? I need...something.
...Stop the planet of the apes, I wanna get off.
[Something's...not right.
Everything was empty, quiet, for days, and looking back that had really been the weird thing, but once the flood wore off it all started to creep back. Flooded, really, inch by inch like a hole in the bottom of a barrel, nagging, prodding, filling the emptiness with words and noise until everything's too bright, too sharp, too everything, and he closes his eyes to try to escape it but it follows him there too.
They're watching. Just waiting for you to slip up, make a mistake, and you WILL. You always do. They KNOW. HE knows. He can see everything, remember?
Little by little, drop by drop, over years, it had been tolerable, barely noticed until it was too late to remember anything else anyway, but all at once, like this, it's more than he can handle, especially after it had all been taken away long enough for him to get used to its absence. It's a fleeting memory, but he still remembers the quiet, and that, above all, is what he wants right now, even if only a little piece of it, for a little while.]
[PUBLIC - audio]
[It's an accident, the first time he flips the feed on, a coincidence of fingers and a need for something tangible, and while there's no image to accompany it, the voice is recognizable, although...uneasy, bordering on anxious.]
Just...stop.
[The feed cuts out as suddenly as it started.]
[PRIVATE to Castiel - audio]
Stop looking. I'm not doing anything.
[PRIVATE to Lua - audio]
You holding at all? I need...something.
...Stop the planet of the apes, I wanna get off.
spam
spam
There's a Richie at the door before she can mess with it too much more, peering out into the hallway; normally he wouldn't bother, but today he needs to see them before he'll let anybody in. A flicker of worry passes across his face, then recognition, and he stands aside to let her in, fingers twitching absently at his side in agitation.]
I didn't realize you were just gonna come over, you didn't have to. You should've said something.
spam
[ There are a couple airplane bottles of vodka in the bottom of her handbag, but even before she got here, saw him this bad off, she had a sense he wouldn't be safe left alone drunk. Lua's never seen him this bad, but if she makes a big deal out of it she'll just make it worse, so she catches his hand and leads him over to sit down. ]
What happened, Richie? What's going on?
spam
[He frowns, because "anybody" never translates to anybody good, but he lets her lead him where she wants. She's good people. He sits down when they get there, tries to keep still but with everything going on he can't, so he just shifts restlessly every so often.]
Nothing. Not really. I just...
[His skull's screwed on too tight, there's too much in there, there's no room in his own head for him and it used to all fit but he can't make it anymore, but there's no words for that, nothing to say that makes it sound like anything less than a big deal. Instead he just shrugs, tries not to think about...anything, really.]
The flood was kind of fucked up. I just need something, okay? I'm not...it's not like I'm gonna do anything bad with it. Just this one time. I promise.
spam
[ Come on, Richie. Talk to her. ]
spam
[...Alongside, not what it's for.]
I just need it to be a little less...everything. Just for a little while, I'm not asking for smack or crank or anything here. It's okay. I mean...I'd take a beer, that'd be fine. I just...there's stuff in the walls again and everybody's watching and my head feels like it's gonna explode and it was fine before that fucking flood.
[Shift. Shift. And he starts worrying at his thumb, more for somewhere for the energy to go than for anything really purposeful, avoiding actually looking at her because he doesn't really want to talk about it, he just wants it to stop. Or at least go back to normal.]
spam
[ She pauses for a moment, and against her better judgment pulls out her bottles, lines them up on the table closer to her than him. ] Might be able to get you something, make it go away better than this. But...
spam
[It might have just been a dream; it seems that way right now. It's hard to remember exactly what it was like when his mind's filled with everything else.]
...But what? What's the catch. There's a catch, I know there is, there's always a catch.
[He eyes the bottles with a kind of quiet desperation, but he won't touch them until she says he can.
spam
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ugh late i hate this semester :(
it's okayyyy. *cuddles* life's a bitch sometimes.
video; private
Are you all right? Do you need help?
video; private
[Or...something like it, it's hard to separate the rational thoughts from everything else, they're too jumbled.]
I need aspirin. Or...I dunno. Booze, oxy, percocet, vicodin, something.
Re: video; private
Would you like me to bring you something, or leave it outside your door?
video; private
[He pulls his glasses off, discards them on the bed to press his palms into his eyes, trying to create darkness, or at least dim, to distract. But the seal's tight, too tight for only blocking, more like he's trying to keep something in there from escaping.]
I don't know. Yes. Can you do that thing you did last time, where you made everything stop?
Re: video; private -> action
With the flood gone, I don't know what I can do. But I will try to help you to the best of my capacities.
[knock knock, Richie.]
action
People can say things without meaning them. It happens all the time. It's easy. Did you bring anything?
Re: action
If you only believe one thing I tell you, it's that I will never lie to you. I do not bear false witness, and I would never to you.
Can you tell me more about your condition?
action
[Both glass and bottle are eyed skeptically, but it's Castiel. The guy's an angel, they're not allowed to cause harm, they're like doctors (not that he particularly likes doctors either, but the principle's the same for both), so he reaches for the unfrosted glass. Temperature's not the important thing, it's what's IN the glass.]
Re: action
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Private - Audio.
Private - Audio.
[He sounds distracted, anxious, head too much a jumbled mess of sensory input and misleading thoughts for him to find the question underneath on his own.]
Private - Audio.
[Duh.]
Private - Audio.
[Did he apologize? He must have. Fortunately there's only one thing he did that he knows he's supposed to feel bad about, or else he'd still be confused.]
I'm...sorry you took it bad? And freaked out. You weren't supposed to.
Private - Audio.
Private - Audio.
It's not my fault.
[But he doesn't sound very sure about it.]
Private - Audio.
Private - Audio.
...Okay.