hadriel_logs | buckshot is my bread; i'll drink whiskey instead of water.

Entry tags:

buckshot is my bread; i'll drink whiskey instead of water.

Who: Rey and close CR/semi-OPEN.
What: In the wake of the Null attack, Rey tries to deal with current events by straight up not dealing at all.
Where: Robot House (1401).
When: Catch-all for December. Please put the date in the subject line!
Warnings: Poor coping mechanisms, depression, anger, suicidal ideations, starvation, fun stuff like that.

Note: As of December 12th, Rey will temporarily be without network access until further notice.

Not long after the light of the twin suns peeked through the cracks of every window did Rey do everything in her power remedy this new situation. Having lost Maketh and so much more than that has left a hole in her chest that she can't quite bring herself to even try and fill, and the sun is the last sensation she wants on her skin. Can't drag herself off the floor and go about business as usual, either. Can't do much of anything.

At first it comes in bursts of anger. Screaming and clawing at her own arms. Whatever pain and damage done to herself only heals again in a matter of hours -- sometimes days, before there is a risk of anyone noticing. Her selective healing has its benefits, depending on one's perspective.

Not that Rey gives one much opportunity to stop by and notice. The windows of her room are blackened with layers of opaque cloth, boards sealing them shut from any unwanted visitors peeking inside. The bed pins to the sliding door, leading to that balcony connecting the neighboring bedroom; its mattress props up to serve as a barricade from prying eyes.

In a sense, she's created her own tomb; a place for her to curl up and die. Food is far from her mind, and with the prospect of a shortage in sight, it's decided that any supplies are better passed on the likes of her.

She's no good to anyone, least of all herself.

At least Nick has been kept busy with the Guard, given his new rank. She hates to think of the circumstances that got him there, but he's had more than enough to deal with without Rey piling onto the stack. Though it probably didn't take long for the synthetic detective to figure out why Rey wasn't answering any messages, why her presence on the network has been nonexistent, why she's made herself so scarce. It didn't take a private eye to notice the discarded device floating in a concoction that has since liquefied in the kitchen blender. In a passing moment of blind anger and grief, Rey severed her ties to the outside. She knew the apologies and grievances that would follow Maketh's death, and if she could lay here and pretend that things are still okay, that she will wake up tomorrow and things will somehow be different, that they will work themselves out one way or another...

What did she do wrong? It isn't something Rey thinks about much, simply because she usually knows the answer already. But now the answer is muddled. Clouded. Her head a fog. And maybe it's from the extended hours of sleep, of nothing but sleep; the days of not eating or drinking, barely parting from her dark room to handle some of the personal necessities she has deemed worth tending to, she just hasn't been able to think. And yet she's had too much time to think.

Maybe she's hoping for another dream again. A fantasy to play out so that she can at least find an illusion of peace. In some sick twist, she would rather be on a battlefield than this, surrounded by the music of gunfire and mortar and the smell of smoke and blood. Give her something tangible, something that she can hurt and kill. Send her anywhere but the prison of her own head, harrowed by affliction and terrible memories.

Strange, how she hasn't cried. The tears are there, close to the precipice, and yet she can't cry. To most, Maketh is just gone home. For Rey, the truth is much more grim than that.

So she lays there, curled up on the floor of her black room. Buried under a mountain of blankets and the weight of guilt. Anyone able to push through the door will immediately notice a lump on the floor, in the middle of the bedroom. Sometimes that lump stirs in sleep, unwilling to wake at the slightest hint of intrusion. And sometimes her feral instincts want blood between her teeth, to find something that she can claw and stab and tear apart.

It's been a long time since she's eaten now. What supply water she has acquired from her first day has been stored in stacks inside the closet, along with a cache of liquor from the Speakeasy. She won't be making any pitstops at her establishment, so she might as well stock up on the only thing she wants while she can.

Even if that desire will ultimately destroy her, she can't find a reason to give a damn anymore.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Judging by the way that thing is lodged into his socket and the fact that Atem's tensing up, something tells Rey that this is probably going to hurt. He did say something about 'powers', didn't he?

One hand placed over the back of his head, Rey goes to get a good grip of the golden eye.

"Going to count to three and yank this thing out, all right?"

Better to just get this over with.

Oh dear, he takes another deep breath and tries to relax, he places his palms on his thighs and smirks at her.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Do it!

Good. Levity helps.

"Okay. One--"

And out goes the eye without further warning. Rey told you she wasn't squeamish, didn't she?

She said three, she said three! Not one! Three! Before he can even get more tense about it, the Millennium Eye comes out of his socket with one particular sound followed by Atem quickly driving both of his hands to cover the empty space, curling upon himself and swallowing one pitiful sound through his clenched teeth, that's better than destroying his vocal cords over the overwhelming pain, right? He should have bitten something, but he was truly not aware of how bad it would be.

There is definitely more than a little blood coming from it, as Rey might notice on the Eye itself.

Just give him a moment or two for him to stop shaking like a leaf.

"Y-you... you s-said... t-three..." ~~Bitch.~~

"Was it three? Oops."

There's no hiding the flippancy of what she did. Rey knew what she was doing, without a doubt. In her experience, it was better to rip off the band-aid than to wreck yourself up in anticipating what was coming. So often that is the case.

Casually holding the eye in one hand, Rey goes to pull a wash cloth from the bathroom counter, handing it to Atem. He's probably going to need that. And some ice, once he's finished.

It's much better to have it out in one go than fiddling with it, he supposes. With the initial pain subsiding, it's only its ghost what remains, though he feels like he's going to throw up he manages to move, look up and get the offered cloth, putting over that side of his face.

With one shaky hand, he tries to get the jar and open the lid. It doesn't really work with one hand, he should have opened the thing beforehand. But like the stubborn thing he is, he keeps trying instead of asking Rey. Her part of the favor is done after all.

And now he's going for the jar.

Rey isn't sure how this is supposed to work, but he did mention Law. Knowing the weird shit that Law can do, that probably means this is going to be weird.

"Here. Let me take care of that. You already look like your head's about to explode as it is." She reaches for the jar Atem is struggling with to open it for him. If anyone knows what it's like to not want to ask for more help than you already have, it's Rey.

He swallows thick saliva before trying to speak, he shouldn't, probably, but he does.

"Thanks..." He says, breathing out the pain the best way he can, this is nothing compared to when Yukari sliced him open, but it just as stupid, why would anyone do this to themselves. Once the jar is open, he reaches for the eye inside, as careful as he can, and the thing feels weird between his fingers, soft and firm at the same time, damn slippery too. It's is terribly confusing, since the eyeball in his hand is working, allowing him to see despite of being detached of him. Trying not to give it too much thought, he simply focuses on trying to see which way it should go in before leaning down and moving the cloth away. It's like putting on contact lenses, no big deal.

Law's magic, not that he'd call his power that, does the trick, and the eye simply places itself in its rightful place without him having to do much. There is no pain but the one he already felt and soon it is over, it restores itself completely, so soon he's not even sure if it worked, so he remains frozen for a moment, his hand still over the eye, a little scared to test it.

He finally lifts his head, blinking very slowly. The eye is working perfectly, maybe all that's off is the blood around it and how swollen the skin is, as if he had gotten into a fight, maybe.

Edited 2018-01-15 04:01 (UTC)

What a lovely, lovely sound. Again, it's good that Rey isn't squeamish, since the scene is met with more curiosity than disgust. She leans in, watching as the eye practically rights itself on its own. No tools, no medicine.

Interesting. And this is something Law can do?

"Does it hurt? Have some painkillers and other supplies if you need it."

At least it looks like he doesn't want to scream his lungs bloody this time.

He meets her eyes and keeps blinking, and when she asks and he touches lightly the skin around his eye.

"No." It's tender and sore, but it's not terrible. He's not longer shaking or looking sickly pale, though, he looks exhausted. "I'm fine..." He's not even making that up, cannot believe his own words but he is. "How does it look?" ~~Is he still pretty?~~

Edited 2018-01-15 04:39 (UTC)

If he was still in pain, she would know. Atem wasn't very good at hiding how much that probably hurt.

Oh well. At least that part seems to be over.

"You look like you just got punched in the face by a bear." Sorry, Atem. You'll have your perfect, sparkling good looks back in no time. Rey's attention falls down to the gold eye she's holding. "What do you want to do with this thing?"

"That's specific." He lets out a really breathed chuckle, yep, he's fine, he's just so tired. But, right, the Eye.

"I'll keep that." He reaches to take it from her, snatching it from her hand. It's not quite his after all, but, if something went incredibly wrong, he might as well need it again. He really hopes he doesn't though, because there wouldn't be turning back this time.

Without much fuzz, he drops it into the jar and the saline solution already seems to be cleaning off some his blood from it, he puts the lid right after. Now... he probably should clean up any spilled blood. Starting with his hands. But first:

"Thank you, Rey." He says it with a little smile. It's not like he couldn't have done it by himself, but her help is more than appreciated.

Not nearly specific enough, though.

Rey lets Atem have the eye back. It was his choice to put it on, so if he thinks he can handle it, then who is she to judge?

"No worries. Least anyone could've done for your trouble." Even if it was his choice to be a thorn in her side the previous few weeks, she still can't say she's entirely ungrateful to the kid. Annoyed, sure. But he didn't have to do what he did and he came here anyway. "Your going to be all right? Any side effects from that thing you might expect?"

Already she's getting up off the floor, grabbing another towel to clean up the bloody mess with. Hey, at least it didn't gush all over the place like in some movies.

"No idea. Never had my own eyeball stuck back before." His uncle hadn't been that lucky, nor Pegasus. Atem, apparently, always had this annoying luck at MacGyvering his way out of impossible stuff. No wonder why Bakura hated him so much.

"Whatever happens, I will deal with it." Or as Law. Playing around with the Millennium Items is never a good thing anyway, he's aware of that. He gathers his stuff and gets up, only to notice how drenched in his own sweat he is, it feels cold on his clothes now, though. What a mess. No longer being extra careful with the jar, he leaves it on the counter, washing all the blood he can off his hands and washing the cloth from earlier, then he sets to clean whatever remain of blood there could be off the floor with it. She's right, it could have been worse.

"Can't say many people have."

At least not without proper medical procedures. What happened wasn't very clinically sound.

But hey, some blood aside, this worked out. While Atem starts cleaning up, Rey moves to open the door again--

...And is met with a sickly looking three-legged cyclops cat, sitting on the floor, its one green eye blinking up at her as it makes a low trill.

Rey sighs. "You heard him. He'll deal with it. Now go, there's nothing to see here."

As though the creature understands, it lifts its two hind legs and arches its back, claws digging into the ground.

Atem lifts his head, curious as to who Rey might be speaking to, but what he sees is not what he imagined... Holy Ra, what the... he often felt himself being watched while at Rey's, that the green glow he perceived from the corner of his eyes wasn't his imagination, but there was never anything there! This is new for him, he just thought he was being paranoid.

"What...?" He looks at the... What is it?! Looks like cat but, he looks at Rey instead. "What--?" Please explain.

Oh, yeah. It's strange to think that she's been here so long that Rey has long since stopped questioning seeing weird things like a mutated three-legged cat with one eye. For as annoying as the pathetic creature can be, there's a certain charm to it that even Rey can't deny.

That and it never leaves her alone.

Rey glances over to Atem, stopping the cat from entering the bathroom by putting her foot in the way.

"A cat. Sort of. Just found a way inside one day and had never left since." She squints at Tripod. "Pretty sure this thing can open doors."

A cat, she says... Well, that confirms it. He needs to stare at it a little closer. He is not going to lie, it has to be even weirder than the one that Ravine showed to him, but good Gods look at that huge eye.

... It's kind of... he doesn't know. It's looking at him!

"So I wasn't going crazy... it was just you." Just look at him, already leaning their way to take a better look.

Edited 2018-01-16 04:09 (UTC)

In all fairness, the state of Tripod just scarcely resembles a cat.

Rather than disgusted, it's almost heartening that Atem greets the cat with a hint of awe and curiosity. Not many would take to such an appearance nearly as well. Hell if Rey will admit that, though.

"It tends to be shy around strangers. Probably because it's been sick since it showed up." Being a little radioactive and all.

Well, now Atem is there, leaning over the funny attempt of a cat, and damn, it is a sight to behold, the little creature would fit perfectly between the monsters of his cards. Mind you that's the best compliment he can give.

"Sick with what?" He doesn't like the sound of that! "Have you been feeding it well?" Excuse him if he has doubts about that!

Oh great, is she going to get lectured on animal care now? Rey doesn't claim she knows what she's doing, and the cat chose to stay on its own accord.

"Don't know. Nick says it's got some radiation, though. That would probably do it."

It's a miracle that the cat is even alive.

"Radiation..." He might be ancient, but he knows what that means, sort of! "Hmm, maybe someone can take a look at it."

Excuse you Rey, your foot is on the way. Not that he cares, which is a perk of being small, he's already sliding out the bathroom (he'll come back to clean and clean himself too, he's a mess but... there is a cat!). If the cat's been around all this time, can't be any more dangerous to attempt touching it, right?

Please stop him.

"Got a name?"

Atem is the type to touch a stove to see if it's hot, isn't he?

Rey doesn't stop him, but she does make a face when he's immediately drawn to the cat.

"Just... make sure to wash your hands after you've touched it. Especially if it licks you." Please don't lick Atem, cat. "Think we've been calling it 'Tripod'."

That's what she remembers calling it in that pleasant reality she had lived. What a cliché name.

Is there any other way?

"Okay," she knows best! Atem crouches down next to it and lets the ... cat, he will call it cat, it's pretty close, anyway, he lets the cat smell his hand before he attempts to run a few fingers over its cute little head. "Tripod, hmm? It's a good name. Yeah, it is."

The cat, sitting as it is, brings its one frontal paw to play with Atem's hand, paw-paw, it goes. "Were you worried about Rey too, Tripod?" He's not even sorry.

"Hey, wanna help clean the bathroom?" But the cat instead stretches and lets out a yawn, showing that mouth full of teeth. "Yeah, well, your loss." Atem stands again and goes back to the bathroom, there isn't much left to do, which is a blessing of its own. But he does need to wash his face, he certainly looks like if he had an encounter with a bear.

"Rey, what do you do during the newbie nights?" Go back to the original plan while removing blood off his face, check.

Edited 2018-01-17 17:00 (UTC)

Somehow Rey can't say she's at all shocked to find that Atem is a cat person. Tripod doesn't seem to have any qualms with him, either.

"Guess you've come around more than enough that it's not as shy around you like others," Rey comments as Atem gets acquainted with the mutant cat.

Seriously. People are weird. Cats are weird. Everything is weird.

She blinks when it occurs to her suddenly that he isn't talking to Tripod anymore. She rubs the side of her neck.

"Um. Well. Used to arrange dance nights at the Speakeasy. Still do. Just never had time for it."

buckshot is my bread; i'll drink whiskey instead of water.

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