hadriel_logs | Event Log: Bad End

Entry tags:

Event Log: Bad End

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Bad End event
Where: All over the city!
When: August 23rd-September 5th
Warnings: Bad futures, awkward conversations, smashed mirrors

You wake up to find a mirror at your bedside - a pretty nice one, too, a silver hand mirror perfect for fixing your hair in. Only when you try to do that, it's not your gorgeous reflection that you see. It's something else - a terrible future, just about as bad as anything you could imagine for yourself.

Maybe you see your loved ones dead on the ground, and you know it's your fault. Maybe you see the goal you've been working so hard for pulled out of your reach forever. Maybe you see someone you've hurt in the past ruining your life. Maybe you see your hot girlfriend leaving you to shack up with your worst enemy. Whatever you see, it really sucks, and you know that it's possible. This future could happen if you make the wrong choices, give in to your worst impulses.

Break the mirror if you want, but you'll see the same vision in any reflective surface in the city. You can't break them all, but you can sure try. And what will you do when you see your best friend's vision - and it features you betraying them?

Seek reassurance, give reassurance, lash out, vow to yourself that you'll never let it turn out that way, sink into the depths of sorrow because you feel like the future you see is inevitable. Whatever you do, it won't take away those visions - not until the event is over.

► This log covers August 23rd-September 5th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you can't handle the idea of your dark future, or maybe you just accidentally slip and fall on a mirror shard, let us know here.

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[Harlan nods slowly, dropping his eyes to Michael's mirror. He turns it over in his hands, fingering the ornate designs etched into the silver. So Michael has killed people. That's not necessarily a dealbreaker... Harlan's killed people too, though he has a feeling Michael isn't talking about casualties from his job.]

I don't know. Kyna and I are in one of those adventuring guilds. Kairos. [...] Maybe they don't have those where you're from. People hire us to do dangerous shit like hunting down magical artifacts or exterminating dragons, shit like that. I've killed some people through my job. Usually, they were trying to kill us first.

[But that's not what Michael's asking. He knows that. His point is: His hands aren't completely clean.]

Um. Recreationally? No one. Even if you include the people I've killed as part of my job, the number in that mirror is a wild overstatement.

[Yeah, for whatever reason, the Visitor's not as interested in self-defense killings. It seems to go after victimizers instead of victims themselves. Murder, not manslaughter. Not that Michael thinks it actually knows the legal difference.]

So why would it show you something out of left field, and then show me something that actually makes sense? And if you don't kill people, why does it bother you so much?

[He gets that part of it would be seeing Kyna dead, and Harlan probably knows those other people in the mirror, too, but... still. If there's no chance it would happen, why freak out?]

... And why doesn't me having killed two people bother you at all?

[He's glad, at least, that Michael is fixating on the gore in his mirror more than any of the other frills. He was counting on that, and Michael hasn't let him down. The rest of it is what's really digging at him, though the body count is upsetting in its own right.]

I didn't say it was out of left field. I said I've never killed anyone like that.

[He licks his lips, not sure if he should keep going. As much as he hates talking about this shit, it does help in the long run, and it's not like he has anyone else he trusts enough to tell here. There's Kyna, yeah, but... He's not sure she'd understand. Even if she did, he can't dump this on her. Getting her to talk about her own problems is enough of a struggle. Maybe he'll tell her about it some day, but not out of desperation. Not just because he has no one else. He doesn't want to force her to be his crutch.

Michael, on the other hand... Mutually assured destruction. Michael has killed before, even if under wildly different circumstances, so he has to understand on some level. And, best of all, they don't know each other well enough yet for any of this to permanently damage a friendship he cares about. If this blows up in his face, he's not losing much.]

But I want to. In a sense, anyway. I don't want to hurt anyone, not really, but I think about it sometimes. Often. I've worked very hard to resist it. There's always a risk, though. The mirror does make sense. Maybe in the future I'll get tired and say fuck it. I've come close before.

[...]

I guess that's why you being a murderer doesn't bother me. A lot of shit that should bother me doesn't.

[Never killed anyone like that. Michael watches the hesitation in Harlan's expression. What's he getting at? And then it drops. Harlan hasn't killed anyone he didn't have to... but he wants to. He has to resist it. There's always a risk. He's come close before.

There's a quick war in Michael's head, point versus counterpoint. Harlan's a danger, they should take him out before he snaps. But no, that's not fair. It's only a matter of time. But he's trying. Look at the body count in that mirror. He's trying. That counts. It has to.]

You get it. [He says that before he even knows what he means.] I mean, kind of. It's probably less literal for you.

[His emotions are doing a lot of things right now. The one that surprises him most is relief. Somebody else gets it. Somebody else has to deal with the same shit. Maybe it's not a shrieking monster in his head, but Harlan's had to fight something too. Only... he's apparently better at it.

A lot better.]

I guess the main difference is that my limit was lower.

[Harlan's not a target. Michael's already worse than he is. And that's where he's leaving that.]

[He nods, dropping his eyes to the floor. Michael's not wrong. It's less literal, but it's also not fair to compare the two things, not exactly. There are a lot of factors that don't line up perfectly.]

How long have you had this thing? I've been dealing with this shit my entire life. I had my entire childhood to get a handle on it before I was capable of doing any real damage. I've had help. Kyna doesn't know, yeah, but my girlfriend does. I've talked to therapists about it.

[He shrugs. Maybe that's why he isn't bothered by the number. Sure, that's two human lives, but it's also only twice that Michael has fucked up. The number could be higher. Harlan knows better than anyone how difficult this kind of thing is to resist.]

It fucking sucks regardless, but I'm betting you've been at a disadvantage. Even with the time and the support, sometimes I'm still surprised I've managed to get this far without too many fuck-ups.

[Michael isn't sure what he's expecting in response. Maybe for Harlan to say that he's being dramatic, or something about how shitty it is that he's got such a bad grip on things. Harlan's been dealing with it his whole life, it's probably a lot worse for him, and at first that's what Michael thinks he's about to hear.

What he doesn't think he's about to hear is someone cutting him some slack. He doesn't know how to react to that. He's killed two people. He doesn't deserve slack.]

Two and a half years. But before- [Hm. Does he mention the blood thing? Harlan's mentioned way worse urges, and he's already admitted to murder, himself... Nah. He's not touching that one. It's not the same as a murderghost.]

I haven't told anybody. Not before now. I'm pretty sure they'd just think I was nuts, and therapy's not going to fix this.

[It never did before, anyway, even with the non-supernatural stuff.]

You literally haven't told anybody? [Harlan frowns. That's concerning, though not entirely surprising. Harlan absolutely would've gone off the rails by now if he hadn't had help. Two and a half years is a long time to be alone.]

When you get back, you should. Finding the right doctor takes some trial and error, but it's worth it. It helps. [He pauses.] You said you're possessed. That's fixable. Having killed two people isn't, but fixing that shit isn't the point. I'm not fixable, either. That's just how it goes.

[It's taken many, many years to accept that, and a big part of him still hasn't. Regardless, there's no changing it.]

Before what? [Of course he caught that.]

No, no. No. [Michael's already saying it before Harlan's finished asking his question, shaking his head.]

I can't tell anybody. Not even doctors. [Especially not doctors.] I know you're from a place where magic is a thing, but where I'm from, only crazy people believe in that stuff. Saying I have a ghost in my head that tells me to let it kill people is a one-way ticket to a psych ward. I mean maybe they'd try meds first, but those won't help, and they'll think I'm a danger to other people, which I fucking am, so they're never going to let me out.

[It is perhaps clear by his rising pitch that this is, in fact, a nightmare scenario to him. God, okay, get a grip. He needs to calm down.]

And exorcisms, god. I don't even know if that's real. I don't know if it would work. This thing isn't some kind of demon, and I'm not even religious. [And hard pass on the whole being held down and yelled at for days. No thanks.

He stops for a couple deep breaths.]

Before. Right. Before the Visitor I had... another thing. Not a supernatural thing. This is way worse than that. But that's not gonna help my case if I go in somewhere telling them I'm hearing voices.

Hm. Okay, that does complicate things. Sorry. Didn't mean to strike a nerve. [Harlan definitely understands the desire to stay the fuck out of an institution. It's a miracle he's managed to avoid one himself.]

Look, if you can't get rid of it back home, maybe there's someone who can help with it here. [He's already thinking up potential strategies, but he'll keep them to himself for the moment. Michael is overwhelmed enough as it is.

As for that last bit, hm. He bites his lip.] You don't have to tell about about the other thing, but you can if you want to.

Maybe. I don't know.

[He is overwhelmed, but that's not the only reason he doesn't want to get into potential solutions here in Hadriel. He doesn't know how any of these powers work, how they might interact with the Visitor. He doesn't know how capable it is of fighting back. He doesn't know if what happens here stays here, if the thing would just be there in his head again the second he returned to Earth.

And, well. There are other reasons. Reasons he's very much not going to discuss.

Speaking of things he doesn't want to discuss...]

The other thing makes me sound really fucking crazy. [And besides that, he doesn't know where to start with it. He's never actually told anyone this; people have found out, sure, but that's not the same. He's always had this story taken from him, instead of giving it of his own free will. Which... Harlan isn't doing.

He's giving him a choice. And that actually makes it tempting. It can't be any worse than what he's already said, right? It can't be worse than "I'm a murderer". Michael runs a hand through his hair.]

If I do tell you, you have to promise something. Don't tell me how messed up it is, even if you're thinking it.

Edited (too fucking repetitive lmfao) 2017-09-18 10:46 (UTC)

[Harlan just shrugs.] It's your call. Wouldn't hurt to look into it, but do what you want.

[He's not here to tell Michael what to do. Plus, he's got his own shit to worry about. He doesn't have time to strongarm Michael into figuring his shit out, even if he wanted to.

Hm, though. He's curious. A minute ago, Michael made it sound like this subject was off limits. What's with the change of heart? If he's really willing to open up so readily, well. That's trouble in and of itself. Not for Harlan, but for Michael. He really has been on his own out here, hasn't he? Man.]

Alright. I promise I won't tell you if I think it's fucked up, but I doubt I will. [Considering everything else they've already talked about, he can't imagine what would register as more fucked up now.]

[Wouldn't hurt? Maybe. But there's a lot of things that aren't supposed to hurt that do.

He's suddenly regretting his offer to share. Murder is crossing a line, yeah, but this is crossing a different line. Where does he even start? "Sometimes I drink human blood because it makes me feel better?" He can't make those words come out of his mouth.

Start at the beginning, he guesses.]

When I was a kid, I used to- [This part's better as show, not tell. He rolls back his jacket sleeve to his elbow so that Harlan can see the numerous little lines on his skin. He rolls it back down just as quickly.] It wasn't for the pain, it was for the blood.

[And the rest comes out kind of rushed, because he's suddenly very over this. He's known this guy two weeks, sure he confessed to murder just now, but ugh.] And then I got older and it got complicated, and eventually mine wasn't enough. But I never- I'm not like a vampire or whatever. It's not that bad. Wasn't. I haven't. In a while.

[Jesus take him now.]

Edited 2017-09-21 08:09 (UTC)

[Ah. Well then.]

First thing's first: I don't think it's fucked up. [It's weird, sure, and maybe in the grand scheme of things it's fucked up, but from where Harlan's sitting, they've already admitted worse things about themselves. And honestly, at the base level, it's not much different than needing to count everything.] I know what it's like to need to do things that don't make sense.

[There's more to it than that, of course. Drinking human blood is dangerous, not to mention Michael hasn't shared where he's getting that blood from, but... Well. Now isn't the time to get into that.

Anyway, since Michael showed him his, Harlan rolls up his sleeve too. He has his own thin lines scattered around the crook of his elbow.]

I started when I was a kid, too. It is about the pain for me. [He shrugs. He doesn't mind talking about this, at least.] These are old. I stick to my legs nowadays. It's easier to hide.

[He has questions, but he won't ask them until Michael's calmed down a bit. If he calms down. If not, it's none of his business, anyway.]

[Oh. Oh. There's a lot going on there, one thing after another. Miraculously, Harlan doesn't think it's fucked up. And then he says he knows, and then- god. It's not like Michael has never met anyone else with scars like his, but not in this context. Not with understanding. It's a relief in a way he can't describe.

He does calm down, and sort of visibly, too, his shoulders slumping while he rubs his hands over his face. He's definitely not gonna cry, even if he kind of wants to. This is weird enough already.]

Thanks. [He's not even sure what he's thanking him for. It seems weird to thank him for any of this.]

[Something about the way Michael sort of collapses in on himself breaks Harlan's heart a little bit. Michael's calmer, maybe, but Harlan decides to keep the questions to himself. They can talk about it again some other time when they're not both dealing with this mirror bullshit.

He rolls his sleeve back down and watches Michael carefully.]

Do you want some company or should I leave?

[He's cool with either. Up to you, pal.]

[He thinks for a second. Normally he'd go for the solitude, but that's not what he prefers. So if he's got the option...]

No, you can stay.

[Harlan ticks up an eyebrow. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. The one he was hoping for, yeah, but not expecting. He knows better than to question it. Instead, he slides Michael's mirror under the couch cushion he's sitting on and then settles into a more comfortable position. No more mirrors tonight.]

You said you work in a morgue or something, right? That's gotta come with some wild stories. And I've got a shitload of stupid adventuring stories.

[A distraction, perhaps? Shoot the shit with him, Michael.]

Like, this one time--we had to go to this shitty convention, right? Me and Tucker, this other guy I work with, entered this fucking, like, magic contest? It was so stupid, dude.

[He's laughing, remembering this dumb technicolor werewolf shitshow. He goes on to regale Michael with this and many more hilarious adventuring tales, like that time he slam dunked a demon book into his Bag of Devouring and that time he turned Reggie into a cat balloon. He'll leave space for Michael to chime in with goofy stories too, if he wants, but he has no problem carrying this conversation if Michael would rather just listen.]

Edited 2017-09-23 09:54 (UTC)

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Event Log: Bad End

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cw for everything (self harm, gross blood stuff, etc.)

just apply those cws from here on out tbh...

yep

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