Playing 20 Questions [Closed + Open!]

[aroundthecoroner]

Who: Michael, Hayden, and others
What: being bothered by people + some much-needed conversations
Where: clinic, various apartments, etc.
When: Nov. 10, but also other days as desired
Warnings: there will now be discussion of murder and horrible dreams in here so watch out



[Post starters below!

There are three main scenarios this log was made to be used for:

1. Bothering Michael at the clinic (aka just casual CR stuff)

2. Debriefing conversations after the dreamshare event

3. Michael tells his close CR/involved parties that he killed a dude

Variations on those are fine, and if you have a different idea, lmk!]

Comments

[demonsional]

[Hayden has no reason or business to really be in the clinic right now, other than that he's trying to familiarize himself with the way the city is laid out. The better he knows the place, the better he can portal himself from one part of it to another without messing up. But here he is anyway...just kind of staring up at Michael in that blank way that kids sometimes do for some reason. It's a little unsettling.]

Hello, Mister!

[He raises one hand and waves. He doesn't need to wave, really, since he's right there, but he's waving anyway.]

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael just had the good(?) fortune of being the one passing the door when Hayden showed up. He's not sure if this kid needs anything, or if he's hurt, or... what... and to be honest it's starting to creep him out. He's about to ask something or possibly wave his hand in front of the kid's face when he suddenly he talks.]

Uh. Hey. Are you... okay?

[Also are those horns? Cool, fantastic.]

[demonsional]

I am A-OK!

[Hayden blinks, and suddenly he's looking more lively again, his mouth spreading open in a wide smile.]

I haven't been here before! I wanted to see! I'm Hayden! Hello!

[aroundthecoroner]

[Okay good because that was hella unsettling.]

Right, uh. Michael. And this is... the clinic?

[He sort of helplessly gestures to the building as a whole.]

[demonsional]

The Clinic!

[Hayden takes a deep breath. He's...trying to...breathe in that sweet sweet healing air?]

This is where people come to fix themselves when they're broken, isn't it? Wow! Wow wow! Are you a healer? Is it fun? Tell me more!

cw: mentions of fantasy cannibalism

[hasitsthorns]

[ Rose is what the clinic might affectionately refer to as a 'frequent flier.' It's not that she means to get injured, really, it's just- She doesn't have a lot of regard for her well-being. It's fine. The woman knows her limits. Unfortunately, she tends to reach those more often than not. Especially lately, as she's testing the levels of her regained strength now that she's eating again.

It's been... good for her, actually. She hasn't succumbed to the same sort of cravings she did in Haven. Maybe she'd been worried about nothing? It's probably still a little too early to tell though so she doesn't think too much about it. Instead, she thinks about harassing the clinic staff. As she often does. It's become a bit of pastime, even, that no one seems to appreciate but her. ]

Yo. Yo, dude, [ whispersays Rose, tossing a cotton ball at Michael wherever he's sitting. ] What's been up with you?

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael is... distracted. Turns out that silence in your head after over a year of nonstop clamor is kind of deafening, actually. Add to that the sinking realization that he's killed someone and all of the self-loathing that goes along with it, and you've got a recipe for being a complete zombie at work.

Which sucks, because he was hoping to use work as a distraction.

The closest he can come is by doing copious amounts of organizing and logging. Dumb, boring clerical stuff that people like Kate normally take care of. This is what he's actively engaged in, sitting at a desk in the back, when Rose shows up to throw cotton balls at him. He flinches as one bounces off the top of his head and gets stuck behind his glasses. Cool.

As he reaches to pry it out, he glances up at his "attacker".]

Hey. Uh. Not... much... [He's unfortunately kind of a shitty liar.] What, uh, what about you?

[hasitsthorns]

[ It is a strange sensation, isn't it? All the noise in your head suddenly quieted. For Rose, it's not quite gone but decidedly less noisy. It's still left her a little uncertain, a little unsure about going forward.

As least beyond throwing cotton balls at Michael. She's still going to keep doing that, actually, because it's hilarious. ]

Dude, don't fib a fibber, [ she answers, immediately calling him out on his bullshit. Look, he knows she eats people. There's a level of trust here already not a lot of people in the cave have. ] You don't gotta' tell me, but like... I'm here to listen if you want to.

As for me, I've got a deal going with Hope. He's getting me food and no one's having to get hurt for it, so. Calling that a win for now.

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael swats a cotton ball out of the air, though most of them end up either on the desk or bouncing off his shoulders. Some of them sail right over him and end up on the floor. He'll just... get it later...]

That's... good, yeah. About the food. I'm glad that worked out. I noticed you've been in here a lot more lately, though?

[Part of him wants to stop dodging the question. He's already told a couple of people, and Rose knows more than most about his situation. The guilt's starting to eat him, and when that happens, he has to sit on his hands so he doesn't tell as many people as possible. It's not just that he wants to admit it, it's that he wants people to tell him that he's a fucking monster, because that's what he deserves. They shouldn't trust him, or confide in him, or even talk to him, they should know.

But as much as he wants to just blurt it, it's gonna take a little working up first.]

[hasitsthorns]

[ Or someone else can. Rose won't be, which is probably why she seems so unconcerned with causing a mess. She's not the most considerate patient in the world. ]

Yeah, I guess. [ As if she hadn't noticed herself. She has. There's the temptation to leave it at that, but- Honesty. She'd promised. She's always trying, even when she backslides and makes a huge fucking mess of everything.

The cotton balls stop. ] Because I wasn't eating, I. I lost my powers. Like, my ice manipulation and speed and strength and stuff. So now that I'm eating again I'm testing how fast it's coming back. Against the monsters in the tunnels. It's, uh. It hasn't been going the best for me but it's giving me an idea.

CLOSED TO HARLAN also CW: MURDER; backdated to the 11th

[aroundthecoroner]

[It's the middle of the night, and Hadriel's dark. In Spire 4, mostly everyone seems to be asleep, or if not, then at least locked away in their apartments. It's quiet, which is a good thing, because it means Harlan's more likely to hear the very hesitant knocking on his door.

Michael knows he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't tell anyone, he shouldn't put this on anyone. Least of all Harlan. But he's scared and exhausted and angry and he doesn't know what else to do. He doesn't trust himself alone, and if he's being honest, he doesn't want to be alone.

He's already done one horrible thing tonight. Why not another one?]

[ghostlocked]

[It's not the knocking, but the quiet ping of his Alarm spell that wakes Harlan up. He lays in bed for a moment, not immediately sure why he's awake, but eventually it all clicks into place. Right. The door. Wait, the door? What the fuck?

He glances at his phone, squinting at the screen's sudden burst of light. No messages, and it's ass o'clock. Which means that, whatever this is, it's bad. Someone's hurt, probably, or maybe dead. Someone on the Null hitlist. One of his friends. Fuck.

As he makes his way through the apartment, he throws out a quick Detect Thoughts to take inventory. Okay, Hayden's asleep, and he can just barely sense Kyna in her apartment a couple floors up. Michael's around too, but he's not where he should be, and he's not sleeping.

Oh.

...Oh.

He pulls open the door, still squinting at the influx of light but considerably more awake than he was a moment ago. But, okay, Michael is not slathered in blood. That's a relief. He looks okay, all things considered, but... Something's wrong, and he has a feeling he knows what it is.

So.]

Coffee or hot chocolate? I have both. Mixing the two is also an option. [That's what he's gonna do.]

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael shifts uncomfortably, waiting. Maybe Harlan didn't hear. Should he knock louder? He doesn't want anyone else to hear. He crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders.

He should leave. If Harlan does come to the door, he's going to ask him what happened, and Michael's going to tell him, and all that shit about Harlan getting it is going to go right out the window. Yeah, Harlan gets the urge to kill. He gets the fucked up thoughts, the constant attempts to talk himself down. But he's never done it before. He's stronger than Michael, he's never given in. This is the one thing that truly separates them.

So basically, he's preparing himself for the worst. The last thing he's preparing himself for is a question about hot drinks. It takes him so off guard he has to stand there a second, blinking blearily into Harlan's apartment.

It's like he knew already. And instead of that awkward, fearful, I-wish-you-hadn't-come-to-me interaction he was expecting, he's getting an open invitation.

God, he's so tired.]

Coffee. Definitely.

[ghostlocked]

[Both it is. Michael looks like he could use some chocolate. He waves Michael inside and heads off to the kitchen to get the coffee started. On his way, he gestures at Hayden's door.]

Hayden's asleep, so keep your voice down. [Which Harlan is bad at, so Message it is.

He has questions, of course. Like a thousand of them even though he has yet to find out what's up. But Michael doesn't need that shit right now. He does his best to stay mellow even though he spends too much time sifting through coffee filters, counting the thin sheets with his thumb. He'll ask what's wrong soon. Soon, but not yet. Maybe Michael will offer, or at the very least, he probably doesn't want Harlan jumping down his throat right now. Coffee first. That's a good benchmark.]

[aroundthecoroner]

[The Message catches Michael off-guard for a second, but it's Harlan's voice, so it doesn't actually worry him. Probably magic or something? It's just weird to have another voice in his head, especially in the silent void left behind by the Visitor's screeching. He remembers that when Philip tried to talk to him like this, he could barely hear it over the animal noises.

He follows Harlan quietly to the kitchen, then stands awkwardly in the doorway, arms still wrapped around himself. He doesn't know where to start, or how. Or if he even should yet. Maybe he should wait until they've got coffee?]

Should we... take this somewhere else? [He whispers it.] So we don't wake him up.

1 and 2 technically.

[drabsolutelynot]

[Michael's worked at the clinic for a while now but its only more recently that Rosen really pays him much mind. Notoriously introverted, it tends to take a lot for someone to really be on Lee's radar, and well, a shared dream in a psychiatric prison will do it.

Particularly given the fact that Michael hadn't seem entirely unfamiliar with that arrangement.

But not generally the smoothest at opening new conversations with people he doesn't know well, he's not about to just pop over and ask. Instead he waits for an opening, then sidles over to Michael holding out a fresh mug of coffee]

You probably need it.

[Its a safe assumption in the clinic 99% of the time]

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael thinks he should probably feel insulted by that, but he isn't. He knows he looks like hell lately, and he's an insomniac even on better days, so it's a fair assessment. Yeah, he does need it.]

Uh, thanks.

[The weird thing is that it's Dr. Rosen doing the coffee-gifting. He's interacted with the guy only a few times since he came to work at the clinic, and they haven't exactly gotten along beautifully. So what gives?

Michael takes the cup, maybe a little suspiciously, not sure what else to say.]

[drabsolutelynot]

I won't beat around the bush.

[He's got neither the time nor the energy for it. And the pretense of getting Michael coffee had pretty much taken up all he had in the 'ice breaker' category]

I know you were in my dream. And I have been in this cave more than long enough to know the difference between a normal dream and one of the Gods' tricks so don't bother trying to pretend you don't know what I am talking about

[aroundthecoroner]

[Michael freezes, feeling like he's being accused of something. He kind of is? But, like, it's not a big deal, right? Why does he feel so attacked right now?]

I mean, yeah, I was. But... a lot of people were in each others' dreams. It's not that weird. It was probably random chance, I didn't do it on purpose.

[He's talking too fast because he feels like he needs to exonerate himself. But he didn't do anything wrong, and now he's irritated that Rosen made him feel like he did.]

Was I... not supposed to see that?

[drabsolutelynot]

Oh I am aware it was against your will, Mr. Munroe, otherwise it would have been a very odd choice on your part to pick my dreams to go into of all the ones that would have been available to you.

[But it's interesting that Michael's first instinct is to recuse himself of responsibility. Just a nervous habit? Or a developed pattern of behavior?

Either way thats not the point.]

You're not in any sort of trouble, Michael. I'm not mad you saw what you saw, what you saw is simply a fact. I can't change it. But in the course of that dream you and I discussed...well...we discussed rather personal matters and I wanted to make sure we were, well, on the same page. There are some things that are nobody else's business.

slowly slides in here (all 3 lbr)

[hot_mes]

[Law's only not in the clinic for short bursts here and there. Mindful of his own suggestion to Lance, he takes shifts and makes sure to get just enough rest, but there's other reasons to pop out for a bit and then back in. Like, seeing if any of the new arrivals need a hand. Everybody good? Back to the clinic, then.

He washes his hands and then looks around to see who else is in at the moment, if the velociraptors got anybody, and so on. Oh look, it's Michael.]

Yo.

[he can't help but think that the guy looks like hell, but hey, it's not like he's all that fresh and pretty. At least there's no more nightmares to interrupt genuine attempts at rest, but...still. Those dark circles under his eyes are darker than usual.]

aw ye

[aroundthecoroner]

[There's no nightmares to interrupt his attempts at sleep, and there isn't even any wordless gibbering in his head at the moment, but somehow, the silence hasn't been helping. And really, he was an insomniac before the Visitor, so who even knows. Long story short: yeah, Michael hasn't been sleeping.

He's not chatty at the best of times, but he's been downright avoiding conversation in the past couple of days. The lack of sleep has made him even less observant than usual though, so he hasn't been entirely successful. Like now, for instance. And of course it's Law. Law who he kind of tried to murder in a dream not too long ago. Fantastic.]

Uh, hey. How's, uh, how's it goin'?

[Totally smooth and casual for sure.]

[hot_mes]

[It's been long enough by now that Law pretty much considers everything that happened in dreams just a dream, so no hard feelings really. He can't deny that it's a little awkward to revisit, though.]

Fine. Now that I'm sending my patient home to recover, it should be even more quiet around here.

[he's vaguely aware that pretty much everyone knows he's been looking after Atem here. No one has interfered with him, and that earns his respect bigtime. As of today, though, he can focus on other people, including his own colleagues]

...you look like shit.

[aroundthecoroner]

[Ah yes, Law's patient Atem. Who solidified Michael's plan to murder his attacker. Yep. Cool.]

Glad to know he's, uh, doing better.

[And as for the second part:]

Thanks. I appreciate the honesty and frankness.

[Hope you speak sarcasm, Law.]

[hot_mes]

[he's fully fluent in sarcasm, yes, it's his favorite language]

Would you rather I bandied about with pointless small talk? I'm not that kind of guy. [seriously, though...] It's not still nightmares or anything?