Entry tags:
- tlv: !ic,
- tlv: abel,
- tlv: alexander hilbert,
- tlv: angeal hewley,
- tlv: avalon,
- tlv: dimitri alexander blaiddyd,
- tlv: doug eiffel,
- tlv: elim rawne,
- tlv: francesca "franky" cook,
- tlv: iris wildthyme,
- tlv: jacob seed,
- tlv: james "bucky" barnes,
- tlv: jedao two,
- tlv: jonathan reid,
- tlv: kirei kotomine,
- tlv: lark tennant,
- tlv: lestat de lioncourt,
- tlv: lester sheehan,
- tlv: mad sweeney,
- tlv: maggie garcia,
- tlv: malcolm bright,
- tlv: natalie scatorccio,
- tlv: neal caffrey,
- tlv: nita callahan,
- tlv: oscar,
- tlv: paul "jesus" rovia,
- tlv: raylan givens,
- tlv: root,
- tlv: rosita espinosa,
- tlv: steve rogers [captain america],
- tlv: will graham,
- tlv: xie lian,
- tlv: zack fair
IC contact for
lastvoyages
[If I don't have an active post up, feel free to use this post to have your character call, videochat, text, or knock on Shaw's door.]
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At knowing? Yeah, and that might make it easier on them. They don't have to see those edges where they stop and someone else begins. And when the breach memories fade, it's a quiet vanishing.
What things are you thinking that aren't really you? If you're all right talking about it.
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[Her tone is flat; her eyes dull. She lets the dog nudge his cold nose against her cheek.]
That world is real, this world is imaginary. Home is just a dream.
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Yeah, those are the ones. Any sort of grounding's going to help. Your tattoos, talking with people you know here, doing something physical- which would probably help you more than it does me.
For me, it's more- I reason with myself when I notice it. If that world were real, then I'd be dead. This right here is too structured for a final fever dream. I know who I am.
[ His voice has quieted down considerably. ] -and if I say that to myself often enough, it keeps me focused on figuring it out. It eventually becomes true.
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Well, it's more like I don't have a choice. It's an experiment, trying the best of the bad options, because there's honestly too much for me to work on. It'd be years before I started feeling like myself again, if I went about it like I usually do. This is letting me just focus on the parts I want to get rid of, like the part of me that decided it was a great idea to just eat four people. I- I-
[ He seems to stop moving for a moment, frozen. Then he lets out all his breath in a deep sigh. ]
It wouldn't work if Harkin-- uh, Sweeney- didn't have a worse, supernatural version of the same problem. We got lucky, honestly, because we can both understand.
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Point taken. Do you, uh--
[She gestures at Winston. Do you need the dog, buddy.]
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Ah. Thanks. If you can believe it, this is me doing a lot better.
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[They're definitely easier than people, on multiple levels.]
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[ He scritches behind Winston's ears in a more normal manner. That gets him a little lick on his hand before he pulls it away, getting out of Shaw's personal space. ]
Saved my life, too. I was sleepwalking at one point and ended up on my roof. The dogs woke me up before I fell.
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That happen to you a lot?
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[ He smirks a little. He's used to being stared at. Even if he's not sure why she's doing so right now, he'll guess. ]
But yeah, I'm probably not the best person to give you advice on sticking to reality. I know. I just- have a lot of practice trying to do so myself.
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Yeah. I like the sound of that.
Is reality something that you've had to worry about, before the Breach?
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I wasn't in a good place when I came here.
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And it's a new development. Not like me, who spent a good chunk of my childhood with psychs. So someone or something did it to you.
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Both, kind of? My condition, it...integrates what I observe, turns it into something I feel, or visualize. I interpret it from there. So it's a guess, but one with a higher accuracy.
[ And since they're on the topic... ]
Do you want to know what else I see? About you.
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[She's kind of curious, and Malcolm already psychoanalyzes her. Why not?]
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You lost someone close, recently. You're mourning, holding silent vigil.
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... What?
[That can't be right. She's not mourning. She should be mourning, but she can't, and that's the entire problem; she can't do sadness or upset or grief the way she's supposed to.
But then how does he know?]
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It was someone you loved. You're frustrated, because you feel like you can't...honor them.
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She blinks a few times, her gaze flicking up towards the ceiling.]
How--
[She clears her throat, then tries again.]
How do you know.
no subject
So when I'm with you, I see the things I'd see in other people, but indistinctly. It's like there's a barrier between it and me, but- if I let my imagination go, there's a heart under there, broken and bleeding.
[ He shakes his head, at a bit of a loss. ]
I'm not actually sure what it was that clued that part of my mind in. It's tougher to know when I'm dealing with people I interact with, and not a case file full of evidence.
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[She pauses, and shakes her head slightly. Her voice is a little ragged, and there's an unusual burning sensation behind her eyes, though they're completely dry.]
I can't feel anything. It doesn't feel like there's anything there. No breaks, just. Emptiness.
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I think...that might more an issue with communication, from one part of you to another. You're different than the sociopaths I'd sometimes encounter. There is something there in you, from everything I can tell. But it has a hard time finding its way out.
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want to thread this out?
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