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Rhodos Mods ([personal profile] rhodosmods) wrote in [community profile] rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
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TDM #1

TDM #1: AUGUST
I. ARRIVAL
Upon arrival, characters awaken in one of the main plazas of the town, lying on the paving stones around a central fountain. It is a bright sunny day and very hot, so you'll quickly want to find some shade. A light breeze brings the scent of the sea, but there are no cries of sea birds to be heard.

The buildings of the plaza are all medieval stone construction, but they all have modern awnings and glass fronts. Tables out front display tourist wares: little plastic statuettes, postcards, t-shirts. Among these, it's easy to identify Greek lettering, Greek gods, photos of Athens and Crete. Predominant among the souvenirs are items marked with the name Rhodos.

But there are no vendors selling their wares. Even if characters wander into the shops, they are all empty as if their owners just stepped away for a moment. Lights are on, and some of the larger and nicer shops even have the whirr of air conditioning. Food stands waft the aroma of freshly grilled kebabs, and a gelato cart is cold to the touch and the ice cream inside is frosty and delicious.

The plaza where you arrive is set on a slope, and the direction of the sea breeze and the faint sound of waves against a shore indicates pretty strongly that down-slope is the direction of the sea. But looking down the slope from the main plaza, you can see an open archway in a tall stone wall, and beyond it is nothing but mist. Despite the clear sunny day in the plaza, the mist is a dense fog with barely three feet of visibility. If you enter it, you can see your own arms in front of you, but nothing beyond that. The breeze has gone still and the waves no longer sound so much like waves--the sound is warped through the mist so that it almost sounds like sobbing. After about five minutes of determined walking across what feels like flat ground with no other landmarks, you find yourself back at the archway.

Housing can easily be scavenged. Doors are unlocked and the interiors are clean and welcoming, beds freshly made, as if it is a hotel that's been prepared for you rather than anyone's personal residence. And yet, once you've settled upon a place to live, you start to find little signs that you have lived here all along. The photographs on the wall (which weren't there when you first arrived) depict you and your family and friends, even if you came from a world without photography. Upon arrival, you have only the clothing you are wearing, but within a day the closet begins to fill with familiar outfits from home, and within the first week you may find up to five of your own possessions around your new residence.

Note: Wardrobe is limited to what you can reasonably fit inside a non-walk-in apartment closet, what your character would reasonably wear and possess in canon, or what can be scavenged around town. There are two very small clothing boutiques where you can find most basics and a few cute outfits. For starting possessions two may be weapons or magical items, but you may have an additional three mundane items. All other personal items can only be obtained through regains or events.
II. SOUND AND LIGHT
The first few days in your new home are relatively uneventful. The days are hot and sunny and the nights are warm beneath a dazzling starry sky.

After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.

The play that is projected onto the wall features shadow puppets, colored lights, and canned soundtrack special effects like the clop of horses hooves or the burst of trumpets. There is no dialogue or narration, so the story can only be roughly pieced together: there is a king and a queen, then a betrayal that leads to the king's murder. Later, the king and the queen appear again, participating in a ritual which seems to involve human sacrifice, a war and a triumphal procession, and then another betrayal and the king is murdered again.

The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.

After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.

Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
III. INTO THE FOG
CONTENT WARNING: Cruelty and violence against (monster) dogs

After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.

The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.

While out on the streets of the town, characters will begin to encounter the monster dogs of Rhodos. The sound of a dragging chain precedes them, and then the hazy outline of a dog comes into view. It's walking oddly, however, with a sort of staggering limp, and the sound of the chain is underlaid by a low, feral growl. Furless gray skin peels away in patches to reveal bloody muscle. The heavy iron collar around the neck is studded with long black screws, the ends of which pierce the skin of the neck. Hazy eyes are clouded with decomposition, and yet that doesn't seem to prevent the dog from making its way straight toward you.

The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.

In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
IV. WAKING UP TO A NIGHTMARE
CONTENT WARNING: Blood imagery

On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.

As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.

You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.

When you make it out into the streets, you'll find that the entire world has changed. Heavy darkness fills the city, and no stars are visible in the sky. A few lights glow despite the lack of electricity, but they only provide a sickly, red-tinted light. Streets are slick with something that looks like blood, and the stone walls in many places have been transformed into metal or grate. Through the grate, you can catch glimpses of black metal hooks and gory, dripping meat that looks human in origin.

There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.

Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
V. THE BONFIRE
CONTENT WARNING: Body horror, immolation

Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.

A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.

The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.

Time passes. It feels like days, though there is no way to mark the passage of time. The Dark Figure continues to supervise the bonfire.

At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.

The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.

If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.

The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.

If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.

In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.

The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
SUMMARY
Arrival: August 1
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31

Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.

Test drive memes are considered game canon.

This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.

Lastly, we are in need of mods! We're most in need of help for processing apps and activity. If we aren't able to get some additional mods, we will have to place a cap on applications, and we're hoping we won't have to do that. If you're interested, please send us a message over on the mod contact page. We've gotten the mod volunteers we needed so we should be all clear to proceed without an applications cap. Thank you to everyone who showed interest!
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳 ( 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 ) (green carnation - iii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-16 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
{ Will knows he probably looks odd out in an open area, coming back to understand a silence he can’t seem to leave. It’s an inkling of an obsession. He’s actually grateful to hear someone else as if a spell has been broken before it became more of the curse it’s always been. }

Huh? Oh. { He stares at the young girl’s hand, comes to his senses, and reaches out to shake it. He usually doesn’t like when people come near, but he gathers he might as well be polite. He hasn’t lost that in the confusion. Will gives her hand a light shake, then immediately retreats his hand as to not intrude longer than necessary. He’s never sure of other’s boundaries, but he knows his own. }

Will. It’s okay, Dani. I don’t know why I keep coming back here. I would go fishing and figured it’ll be my end one day. Have you ever thought about dying while doing something you loved? { Part-truths, always steering him. }
midsommaring: (so you will do)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-16 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
[The question seems to pull her up short. Her brow furrowing in thought. She tries do think of something she loves doing. Anything, a hobby, a song, something, but she comes up short

Before Sweden, her life had consisted of going to class, checking in on her sister, and hanging out with Christian and his friends.

How pathetic.]


I don't think... I have anything like that. Maybe I should get into fishing, too. [She tries to laugh, but it comes out hollow, empty. Even to her]
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘴 ( 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 ) (cabrón - ii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-16 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
{ He does note the shift in her laughter, voided of something he’s not privy to. Will nearly comments on it, but resists. It’s familiar enough of his time spent drinking endless nights, not knowing what enough was until someone had to pull it from him. Unfortunately, those people were never convenient. The last person he saw before coming here had been Jack.

He slightly parts his mouth, then considers his answer. }


It depends, if you’re a patient person, sure. I don’t have many hobbies, just distractions. Are you from here?
midsommaring: (i wish that i could)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-16 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
I can be patient. I don't have many hobbies, either. Or... any. I just realized. [She would just agree to do whatever everyone else wanted to do. Not wanting to make waves, or be thought of as difficult in any way.

Maybe that's what happens when you build your life around other people. When those people are gone, you have nothing left. Not even a hobby.]


Oh, uh, no. Boston, originally. You?
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 (bury a friend - x)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-16 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
The open air is tranquil. { It’s an off comment, meant to be minimal as he lets his gaze linger back towards the horizon. It looks like it’s near but it’s probably far. He’s only just arrived so it didn’t occur to him that more people would be here.

Normal people. He wonders what normal looks like out here. If others are in their turmoil as well. He hopes theirs is not the minefield his has become. One step out of bounds and it’s over. }


I’m originally from Louisiana, then moved to Virginia. I couldn’t leave the South. Maybe you’ll find something here. Whatever here is? The fog hasn’t moved in days. I think it’s waiting. { For prey, echoes in his mind. }
midsommaring: (who i'm supposed)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-16 06:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I was going to ask waiting for what but... you're right. It feels... no, you're right. [Something about it feels anticipatory. Like it's not just hanging in the air, it's staying in place.

A shiver runs through her and she rubs at the gooseflesh on her arms.]


I just came from a place where the sun only sets for a few hours, in the summer. We were celebrating Midsommar, actually. Thus... [She gestures to her dress. White, with delicate blue embroidery. A few flowers still sticking stubbornly to the capelet over her shoulders.]

I was the May Queen.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 (a marvel at grow - i)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-16 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
{ It's the fact that the fog does not move, as if it's going after them when it decides. He's not sure how to feel about it. He does have the same fear he did years ago, but it still lives in the shadows of his mind. Will remains still, listening, while he tries to find the waves in the distance.

It seems he's always searching. For what? That remains to be unearthed in Rhodos. }


May Queen? You must have remarkably caught their attention if they accepted an outsider. Isn't it a pagan holiday? I would come across some during my work. What is Midsommar? { The knowledge he's held when teaching at the academy led him to crimes of all sorts, and in them, he did encounter a variety of religious based ones. He withholds it for now, not wanting to scare Dani off. }
midsommaring: (my ass off)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-16 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
I was surprised, too. The women my age take part in a contest. A uh, a dancing contest. It's like an endurance test. The last one standing is crowned May Queen. And that was me. [She sounds quiet, confused. Like she's trying to be happy about it but she's not sure how.]

In Hårga, where we were, there are a lot of parts to celebrate Midsommar. They only let outsiders take part every ninety years or so. A lot of dancing, a lot of drinking. Big meals. They were very welcoming, actually. They'd let me into the bakehouse and show me how to make the handraised pies. [There's a faint smile, but it gradually fades. Thinking about the shadowplay she had seen here. Thinking about the elders. The child in chains.]

Not... all the parts were pleasant. But since I'm getting my masters in psychology I tried to put myself in their shoes. Tried to see the reasoning behind some of the traditions.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 (transparent soul - v)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-17 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
{ Trying to put myself in their shoes is what catches his attention, enough that he’s glancing over once again. The first he can tell as he listens is that Dani is deeply trusting. He can’t foretell the same on his own. It’s far too personal than he wants to peer into, but sometimes it jumps out. All it takes is someone lightly letting the door ajar. }

You’re resilient. Did you learn anything, in being May Queen? They made you part of them…

{ It’s still too close. The reconstructing is what’s the hardest part. His next words slip without thought. He’s usually prudent, but something about the place has stumbled him as if he were an agent first starting at Quantico. It threatens to be overwhelming. }

What did they take from you, Dani?
midsommaring: (when they fall)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-17 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
[Dani's face crumples, her eyes welling up with tears. She tries to breathe but it comes out odd. A sharp exhale and quick inhale. ho-ah. She repeats that a few times, tipping her chin up to try and hold back tears.]

I had already lost everything. There wasn't much left for them to take.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬 (phantom regrets - iii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-17 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
{ The attempt to hide away a fragility reminds him of his distortion when he first started working for Jack. He hesitates, unsure of what to do. He’s never been great at having to face other’s sorrow. Irony aside. Is he reading it correctly? Will gulps.

Dani reminds Will of someone he failed. Another young girl that a world wanted to swallow up. Suddenly his hands are starting to clam into fists. His own eyes are also beginning to sting. Part of him wants to walk into the ocean. It’s more vast than the sea, has more depth. }


I’m sorry. Some things are not worth uncovering.
midsommaring: (bye i don't wanna)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-17 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
No, it's not your fault. [Dani reaches out to touch his arm briefly. Trying to reassure while she gathers herself back together. It's not his fault. It's no one's fault but her own. She should have checked in with Terri more. She should have gone over that night instead of just calling.

All her fault.

ho-ah.

She wipes at her eyes and attempts a reassuring smile. At least the corners of her mouth tilt upward, slightly.]
I um, I lost my family. A few months ago. Murder-suicide. Still a lot to process. But the more you talk about it, the easier it becomes to talk about it. To start the healing process. If I repress it, then I'm not doing anything but hurting myself.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘰𝘭𝘥_𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 ( 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 ) (veo - iv)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-17 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
{ He logically knows it’s not his fault, but maybe he’s now rising what he has been trying to hide away when he arrived. It’s the guilt. Dani is open about her’s and it’s nearly fascinating. Not in the cruel manner, but rather in the astonishment of doing it without restraint. Will often holds his bleeding heart close, and he’d rather drown in it than truly let others see what lurks.

He gives tidbits at most. When normally he’d shy away from any touch, the lightness on his shoulder is what makes his expression flicker. It’s welcomed. }


Does it? I once gave someone the benefit. It didn’t go well. I thought I could heal. I was foolish. You’re braver than me.

{ His eyebrows furrow as he ponders. He’s lost many people, and what he can’t reconcile is that he made them backdrops. Will ignores his inner discomfort. He attempts to smell the beachside air, but it’s not the same. }
midsommaring: (please remind me)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-17 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know if it's brave or stupid. I was working on a masters in psych, before everything happened. I turn to textbooks to help explain my emotions.

[She'd tried it, with Christian. To walk him through the steps he was using to push her away. But of course he denied it, he always did. Put it back on her. Maybe he was right to. Maybe she was trying to see things that weren't there.

All her fault.]


Maybe we all heal differently.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘮 (can you break sometimes? - ii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-18 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
Emotions. { The way he says it comes out with his voice heavy, and a hint of regret. He has to close his eyes. When he does, all he can see is pain. The ocean now looks like it’s painted in a fresh color of red; the color of blood. He’s seeing things again, right? Too much lull, too much everything. His hand goes up to his throat, fingers running along his neck. It could be mistaken for pondering.

It is not the wound that’s carved like a smile on his stomach that he reaches for, but where he last saw Abigail die — a cycle. }


Shit. It’s stuffy. I don’t know if some of us are meant to heal. What if we don’t deserve it?

{ The question comes out before he can stop it. Dani’s blatant grief is getting to him. His poor attempts to change the subject are lost on his tongue among an empty admission. }

I used to teach forensics. Textbooks only get you so far.
midsommaring: (getting harder)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-18 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
We might not. [It's a quiet agreement, but there's no reluctance in it. Just a quiet kind of confession to her words. She can feel fire against her face again, those flames that never seem to burn out, kept stoked by their awful fuel.

She'll accept the subject change.]


I took a forensic psychology class once. Or I tried to, anyway. How to get into the mind of a killer. I didn't last very long. It wasn't a place I wanted to be.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬 (phantom regrets - iii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-22 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
{ The easy manner in which Dani moves from the subject should make him relieved. It’s the air, he decides. The plaza underneath their feet is beginning to feel as if it’ll sink and he subtly steps back. Nope. Not this, not now. It won’t swallow him today. }

I can. I did. Some of us are good at it. { One can say he was too good and it makes him even more unsettled than the open air is when it would usually bring comfort. Everything catches up. He looks back towards the sea in the distance. }

I don’t recommend it. { A beat, then with a sigh. } I wanted to be useful. Did you want to teach, or…?
midsommaring: (what am i normal)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-22 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
My sister. She was never well. Bipolar. I thought if I got my degree, become a therapist or at least counselor of some sort, I could help her better. Help her be better.

The forensic psychology wasn't about my sister. [It's added quickly, lest Will think her sister was a criminal.] It was an elective. A talking point with my friends. I thought it might make me more interesting.

[She pauses, staring out into the fog for a long moment before she looks at Will.] I've only talked about this with one other person.
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 ( 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 ) (pretty fool - i)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-26 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
{ There’s a subtle shift, the way his body stills almost too much at the quick distinction. Dani is perceiving. Will isn’t sure of what, but he gets an inkling. Somehow it’s a relief she isn’t aware of how intimately he can be with the studies he’s learned, in the minds he’s been within.

And there goes his voice parched again. }


Therapist. Maybe you would have been able to. Many try. I usually avoid them.

{ His opinions have soured still, but it’s not about him. Will is trying to understand this strange world, and in it he has to understand who it called to it. There has to be something about Dani, or so he’s beginning to put together from his own observations so far. }

Who was the other person?
midsommaring: (getting harder)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-26 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
My best friend. I don't -- think I even talked about this with my therapist. I mean, what sort of therapist would I have been, if I wasn't even honest with my own? Just -- told her I was doing fine, a little stressed, kind of worried about my sister but she seems to be getting better.

But my friend, I told her everything. All of my relationship worries, my worries with Terri, everything.

And now you. I don't know -- why. Maybe I just need to get it out. Maybe I've been holding in for too long.

God, I'm sorry, you don't need all this for me. Fuck. [She seems to deflate, then, her shoulders slumping, posture curving in on herself. Face crumpling.]
isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 (pretty fool - iii)

[personal profile] isola 2022-08-26 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
I'm sure some therapist would have a label. I don't keep up with whatever new ways there are to dig up our psyche. You wouldn't want mine.

{ His voice is light, even if the backdrop of their conversation is anything but it. He probably needs to move on before it lashes, but the itch to delve is still leftover from what he's been trying to run away from. }

Stress can be good. It can save you to know what danger to avoid. It also depends on who gives it. { A pause. The wind whistles and fills the silence. } You can get it out. I don't mind. I only ever recall true peace with one person. My father cared, and I believed him. I've been trying to be good like him since he died.
midsommaring: (and cut me off)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-08-26 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
Did you -- this is going to sound so stupid. But did you... see him? A face in the crowd, standing at the edge of your bed at night. After he died.

Because I swear I see my parents everywhere.