[OPEN]

[killthisparty]

Who: Party & you
What: It's been a hellish couple of weeks, specially last week. He needs to catch some air and be alone for a while, maybe explore the place after being here for almost a month.
Where: Several places in Hadriel
When: March 1st - March 4th
Warnings: Language, depressive thoughts, dissociation, mentions of death, mentions of abusive & obsessive behavior (relating to the Kiss Me Kill Me event). Will add more if necessary.




💊MARCH 1ST - ALL DAY
God, he almost forgot how the sun burns the absolute shit out of your eyes when you're not ready.

You'd think a lifetime of living in the desert would make it easier to remember, but, no, not with how hazy and blurry his head is. Has been. Honestly, he's not even sure how long it's been since he ended up here, everything seems like it started a second and a century ago.

You could debate that, considering everything that's been going on between him and his family, specially when everyone went cuckoo cocoa puff for a week, that leaving the house with no warning is probably a bad idea. You could, but he would absolutely cuss you and your entire being down to your atoms right off for even thinking about getting into his business.

He should probably find out something about the place he's now stuck in. Purgatory MK II. Land of spirals and sand. The wrong sand. The wrong air. The wrong sky.

He goes in and out of buildings without much thought. Quiet and subtle, he catches himself between moments of lost time, unsure of how long he's been walking before he's inside a room, a store, a bar, the clinic.

The emptier it looks, the more likely he's bound to walk in there and start taking a real close look at things. Touching things, pocketing what's small and useful - or just shiny and interesting.

Oh, was that yours? Well, not anymore.



💊MARCH 1ST - EVENING [Closed to Killjoy house]
It almost takes him too long to find his way back. His head isn't completely clear of static, but better than before - something that somehow frustrates him, despite the relief. That doesn't make sense? Fair, but, neither does anything in this fucked up life and world and city, so he doesn't bother to untangle those thoughts.

He doesn't know how long it's been. He knows it was hot, then hotter, then cooler, and then cold and slowly darkening,
so he tried to find his way home. Pockets full, so it wasn't a waist, but skull clogged with the anxiety of seeing his familiars again.

There should be a comfort in it, sure. Somewhere, deep down, there is. But everything's still so...whatever this is.

It'll get better. Right?


💊MARCH 2ND - 4TH
The exploring continues. It wasn't so bad, that first day, and maybe this time he actually bothers to tell them where he's going.

This time, he heads straight for the places that seem to hold the more practical utilities and supplies - the speakeasy,the clinic (oh, he hates it, it makes his skin crawl, but he gets in there), the stores, the pawn shop, anywhere that has food.

He can be spotted, every once in a while, hanging around and just...taking things. Just taking them.

Maybe you joined him? Maybe you caught him? Maybe you just said hello. Oh, there's plenty of ways to get him to talk,
but even more to get him to bristle up defensively at a stranger.

Comments

March 2nd

[outofthefire]

[Laura runs into him at the stores. she's got a bag with her and she's cans of fruit and vegetables in it at first.

soon, practical shopping gets boring and she moves on to the clothing. she rejects almost everything, but she finds a (NSFW link) little black dress which she holds up to herself, examining it carefully.

she sees him across the way and calls out to him]

Hey, mister. D'you think I'd look good in this?

Re: March 2nd

[killthisparty]

[ He doesn't even register the presence of another person in the store before she speaks. And so much is clear when he suddenly visibly jumps, scrambling to not drop the can of food he was examining in his hand.

He gives her a wide eyed and confused look, even though she's done absolutely nothing to grant that sort of reaction. But he does settle enough to talk, glancing at the dress, then at her face.]

Huh, what?

March 2nd

[outofthefire]

[she raises an eyebrow slightly when he starts. she hadn't been particularly quiet or subtle about what she was doing there. did he really not even notice her presence?

she just stares at him frankly, holding the dress up to her body to try and give an impression of what the dress would look like on her]

This dress. Would it look good on me?

Re: March 2nd

[killthisparty]

[ He blinks at the dress, still just confused. But when he finally processes the harmlessness of the situation, he raises a brow. ]

Why're you askin' me?

[ Any other time - any other place, really, he would have probably answered right away. Just bad timing! ]

March 2nd

[outofthefire]

[Laura continues to stand there, dress held up to herself, unphased by his seeming confusion]

Because you're a man and you have eyes.

[yeah, she's getting the idea that might be the case.

march 1st

[dedikated]

( Kate, as Kate ever does, returns to Hadriel and immediately makes her way to the clinic, checking that everything is still in order. The trip had been impulsive, a sudden reaction to everything that felt wrong about the city at the time. There were other staff. The place would survive without her.

But for now, she needs to catch up on what happened.

And... apparently catch a stranger rifling through one of the empty examination rooms. )

You washed your hands?

( Before you go touching equipment. )

Re: march 1st

[killthisparty]

[ Oh, she can bet that those hands aren't clean, in any sense of the word.

Whatever he was touching, whatever he was grabbing at, it gets knocked off the shelf along with a couple of things near it when he suddenly jerks his arm and suddenly turns around, same hand going right to the holster hanging against his leg.

The deer-in-headlights look he gives her, you'd think she had just screamed bloody murder sprinkled with horrifying deadly threats at him.

Hopefully, he didn't break anything.]


Whaddafuck--

[dedikated]

( Oh, for crying out-

Kate looks... well. Unimpressed, mostly. Between a fresh return from the wilds, leaving her exhausted and more than a little dehydrated, a new mess to clean up and someone who is acting like he's had a bad strain of Tranquility's weed, this? This is not her day.

Her hand slides close to the bag wrapped around her thigh, and a brief flick of her head pushes a loose bit of colourless hair from her face. )

What's up with you?

[killthisparty]

[ Don't tell him about the weed. Or do. In a month or so from now, when he's less of a raging mess of a dumpster fire.

He stares at her in silence for a few seconds, visibly tense and nervous by her sheer presence. He probably should have expected someone in here, right? Or any other building. Ghoul had told them about there being quite a few people in this place, in this town, so it makes logical sense...but logic's having a bit of trouble making itself heard in his head right now.

Still, he doesn't pull out the bright yellow blaster in his holster. He can't see a piece on her, if she drew, he'd be quicker. Yeah, that's good. Yeah.]

'The fuck are you?

[dedikated]

( Probably should have, yeah. As long as he doesn't try anything, Kate won't do anything. Her posture relaxes slightly, muscles loosening, weight shifting from one foot to the other.

But her hand never quite leaves the bag by her thigh. )

Someone who works here. Who're you?

March 2nd!

[1019]

[Pff, look who has the same idea.

On two fronts.

Lucas has been lying low. Without a lick of interest in doing anything but for the time being. Just gathering info, quietly as he can. Skimming through what appears on the phones. Looking for a place to crash. Getting the lay o' the land.

It's been a looooong, loooooong while of laying low, after all.

Hard to tell when you're in the clear. And get used to what is, essentially, a brand-new boxing in when you were just about to cash in on an alternative to a get-out-of-jail-free pass. You never know who or what's out there and a month's only so much time prepping for it.

But! Ehhhh, he's... getting a feel for it! Enough that, you know what? He's not even gonna lurk too sneakily as he restocks, fact aside that he looks like a fuckin' shoplifter; hood up, stance low. Gets some new supplies together.

Just pretty openly looting where he don't think anyone's around to stop him, simply being in, getting what he needs, and heading out where there is. Tossing it all and shaking it into a backpack.

And thus it is that in one o' the shops, he takes a couple of packets of food, passes them into one hand, leaned like a tucked-in stork over the stock, turns to reach over and --

-- Fiiiinds someone else picking through things right there. Right there, hands -- off, can't you tell that I was busy, here...?

Pulls into a sorta half-double-back with a grimace, before leaning forward a gain.

He coughs. Not a throat-clear, but a hot, voiced and open cough... -- ]

-- You miiiind, stranger -- ...?!

Re: March 2nd. LUCAS!!!

[killthisparty]

[ Scare him half to death, why don't you?

You'd think that, on the second day he's exploring, his nerves would have settled down. You would've, but you'd be wrong.

It comes in waves. The shop doesn't make him as uncomfortable as the clinic did - too clean, too sterile, too wrong - but he'd leaned into the quiet of the store and a strange new amount of food and supplies, to him, in a single place, that he didn't hear anyone. So the voice makes him jump - and then the face makes him tense up like a motherfucker. ]

Holy--

[ Sorry, Lucas, you just have one of those faces.

The people he's seen before weren't as...startling, but something about this guy just seems off. ]

'The fuck do y' want?

[ It comes off less threatening and more like a scared unsure animal talking back. He really needs to get his fire back... ]

8)c

[1019]

[A little twist in his lips for a flash of teeth on the initial reaction.

Tryin' to hold his eyes on the guy's face. Not a blink to be tracked. A little of a buzz-tickled scrunch in his nose; heh... he don't even gotta do that much to shake 'em, do he...?!

Well, swell; if the guy's off-balance, he's gonna swell rrrrright in to fill the space, work it -- !]

I want you to watch where you're rootin', is all!

[Pressing up off the shelf to shove 'imself into a supported straightening; voice all-a-ringin' with put-on-for-play conversational cheer, with... some sincerity behind the grin, at least.

It and the heavy browing are out of some dumb, passive it's on excitement.

A scooping "flourish" of his free arm along the stock.]

Look aaat it! [Rapid little shakes of his head!] This ain't one man's lootin'!

[He said. Greedily.]

March 2nd

[killthisparty]

[ Party gives him an odd look - threatened, confused, but not yet backing down. This man looks like someone who gets high on sun rads on a daily basis, but with undercooked skin instead of the redness and boils. No, but he sure has the tone for it.

He's catching Party at a bad time, shaken and upset and trying to shove all of that under a carpet. It doesn't work, and it's exhausting, leaving him vulnerable, but he's not about to just break down crying here.

Instead, he puts his hand on can sitting on a shelf in front of him, furrowing his brows inquisitively, if still holding nervousness in his eyes. ]

Plenty ta' go around.

[ What's this guy's game? What's he playing for? Party's a greedy, scrappy little shit, but there's more food than he could possibly claim or carry, so he's not taking any away from this guy's hands. ]

1st March

[hoperulesdespairdrools]

[Well, there is a kid browsing weapons in one of the stores. A rather pale and skinny kid. He does not seem to notice Party coming in as he is staring at a sword display on one of the walls.

And as he does so, a silver ring seems to fall out of his pocket. The ring appears to the emblem of a shield and the words 'Hope's Peak Academy' on the side. Try to take it if you want something shiny?]

Re: 1st March

[killthisparty]

[ Party does wander into the story, only half conscious of his walk here. His brain is fritzed, half fried with all of the thinking its been doing this month, all of the fucked up scenarios that make no sense, the people, the-

He's already out in the open when he notices that one of the shapes is a person, alive and moving, causing Party to quickly and clumsily shuffle back into hiding - behind a set of shelves, perhaps?

He looks towards the person, silently, hidden. But he notices that ring. Maybe it rolls a little too close to Party, somewhere where he doesn't need to be too exposed to grab it.

There's no sense to it, it's probably stupid, he thinks. But he sneaks out of his hiding spot, stealthily, glancing between the item and the person. And don't mind if he just...picks it up...and examines it for a second while moving back.

Except he bumps the back of his boot into one of his metal shelves.

Goddamnit, is his game dead? He's better than this. ]

[hoperulesdespairdrools]

Hmmm? [And with that, Komaeda turns around instantly. He did not see that man behind him. He must have sneaked behind him without making a sound. Very impressive!

.....Huh? What's that he's got there?] Wait a minute........that's mine!

[killthisparty]

[ When Party causes a ruckus and the other young man turns around, Party freezes completely, staring out with wide eyes, full-on deer in headlights.

You wouldn't think he's actually usually good at this. He is, I promise. But sure it sure as hell doesn't look like it right now.

He instinctively shoves the ring into one of his jacket pockets, keeping his eyes straight on Komaeda. ]

What?

[ What is? What's his? He doesn't have anything. His hand's empty. ]

[hoperulesdespairdrools]

I believe that ring you put into your jack pocket is mine? [If it was something minor that Komaeda could easily lose, he might have given it to Party. This is a little different though. Someone he knew back home gave it to him. Someone who treated Komaeda with more kindness than Komaeda felt he ever deserved. He would feel terrible if he just lets it get stolen just like that, even though he feels that it is a possibility that he might never see that boy again.]

I have to admit, you have some talent for sneaking up on me like that. I'm really impressed! However, if you don't mind, I'd quite like that ring back.

march 1st evening WHERE HAVE U BEEN YOUNG MAN DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS

[ghoulaid]

( It has to get better at some point. Hopefully sooner rather than later, because Ghoul feels like he's going to lose his god damn mind if things continue as they have been.

It's just so weird. Maybe this is how Girl felt when they were both still new to the city, coming face to face with a walking ghost. The last time he'd seen Party was with a laser beam blasted through the bottom of his jaw, so of course it's unnerving to watch him moving around intact and alive. Maybe the surreal feeling would've worn off by now, if Party wasn't also acting so off. Or maybe Ghoul wouldn't feel so awkward if he hadn't spent the better half of last week acting creepily cruel and obsessive towards Party and Girl both.

That whole deal should be over now, right? But he still can't shake the feeling of panic when Party up and disappears one morning. He can't tell if he's feeling a normal level of stress, or if he's still being influenced by something, or if there's no outside influence at all and he's just a fucking psycho now, or if it even matters, or if he should bother looking because both of them would be entirely justified in wanting to get the hell out after that fucked up week-

Fuck.

Ghoul ends up prowling through and around the house all day long, unable to focus on one thing for long and definitely unable to hold still for any length of time. By the time Party wanders back home, Ghoul's in the front yard with a flat sheet from one of the beds laid out in the dirt, knelt over it and cutting it in to long strips. After That Week he figures it's not a bad idea to have a full stock of something to serve as bandages, but really, it's a simple, destructive task that keeps him busy for at least a little while.

Until Party's presence makes him freeze mid-cut. He's glad to see Party's still around and unharmed, even though he ends up frowning up at him and looking conflicted. Does he even have a right to ask where the hell he's been? Should he just ignore him and let him come and go as he pleases? Or keep it casual? Maybe that. ) ...Hey. ( Great fucking try. )

Re: march 1st evening GOD UR NOT MY MOM

[killthisparty]

[ Party noticed Ghoul before he even reached the house - their house now, right? A home? Should it feel like a home? - failing to ignore the racing buzzing in his heard and his pirouetting stomach as his feet somehow kept going.

He stops a few feet from Ghoul's spot, confusing that conflicted frown with anger, irritation, for having left. For being back. For just being there and not acting like normal. ]

Hey.

[ He's carrying a small bag with him, heavy with cans and brands he's never seen before. He's not hungry at all, but it feels natural to just bring back something. It's what he did, what they did. No matter how plentiful things looked in the places he was in, you never know, and he can't turn off that instinct.

Guess they're both pretending to do things that are natural to them.]

...what'cha--what'cha doin'?

March 1st

[thelastjoy]

[She itches, possessiveness still coats on her skin like dust settled over sweat. Girl isn't sure where the strange spike of feeling ends and the instinctive need to enclose their circle begins. Part of her still wants to follow the others around, keep her eye on both her friends until she can be sure they aren't going to disappear. She wasn't nearly so bad after Ghoul arrived.

She blames Party.

It's hard to forget that initial sting of his lack of recognition. It tasted of bitter rejection and regret. Without the strange feeling controlling her actions, it's easy to sink back into awkwardness where he's concerned. Avoid his eyes or make herself busy whenever he enters a room. Maybe she was being childish, but she didn't quite know what to say. And after years of avoiding her problems, it was easy to slip back into old habits.

At least until she woke up and realized he wasn't in the house.

By the time he's come home, she's dried up the evidence of tears and calmed well beyond the spasm of panic. It's late enough that she's moved away from anger -at him, at herself for freaking out- and left with just a vague veneer of disappointment. She sits on the front stoop of the house, picking at loose threads in her jeans as he walks up and offering the string to the lazy cat at her side.]

Go sight-seein'?

[Girl's still not looking at him, same skittish attitude she's had since their heads cleared. She stares at his boots instead and waits for him to make her move out of the doorway.]

Re: March 1st

[killthisparty]

[ He saw her before he reached the house. As soon as the bend of the street allowed him to catch sight of their house, he saw her sitting there. He faltered, even, partially thankful that she seemed to keep her eyes down, to keep his failings and skittishness away from her eyes. He's done so bad at keeping it out of her head, it's literally the least he can do. It's the only thing he can do. Pretend to do.

He walks up silent, stopped in front of her when she speaks, hands kept in his jacket pockets, one slowly tearing apart the empty cigarette packet he's kept in there since the day he-

The week before was...it was terrifying. It was upsetting. Party's unfortunately familiar with losing control of his actions sometimes, at least partially - by action of his own messed up head or by help of drugs and/or alcohol - but that wasn't it. He doesn't know what that was. And the fucked up part is that he can remember all of it and he wasn't the only one behaving weirdly then - and behaving awkwardly now.

He can tell, you know? He can tell what he's doing to her. And even to Ghoul. Something's ultimately broken and he doesn't know if it can be fixed. Nothing's real and everything is, nothing makes sense but here they are.

But sometimes you're forced to take one thing at a time. Right now, he's looking down at her, thinking he should speak, say something, but words are hard. They always are, but he never suspected it could get this bad.]

Explorin'.

[ Sure, that's an answer. And it's true, right? ]

...place's fuckin' weird.

[ In so many ways, which means this was a poor choice of words.]

[thelastjoy]

Yeah?

[That much is obvious. There's little to do around here but explore. It's as much a prompt for more information as it is a confirmation. Keeping him talking was better than the radio silence, even as awkward as the small talk feels.

She glaces up at his understatement, trying and failing to hold back a snort. Weird's one way to say it. The dead coming back to life, gods stealing emotions, monsters running amok...weird barely covered the unsettling atmosphere of this place.

But this place was giving her back the things that mattered. She could live with all the awful things as long as she had that.]

If you think this is bad, you should have seen the bots attack.

[Except she's glad he didn't. Girl had been worried enough with Ghoul out in that mess. She would have been on edge with two of them to worry about.]

It's better here than it used to be. We were underground before, didn't even get to see the sun. You would have hated it.

[She can't imagine Party stuck in that cave and things turning out well. Confined spaces and a panicking leader didn't mix. She's sure that has something to do with his disappearance this morning.]

[killthisparty]

[ He grunts softly in response, awkward but acknowledging her words. He...doesn't really want to think about living in a cave. It's not a mental picture he can quite come up with, but just the idea of the confined space and lack of sunlight give him a weird feeling in his stomach.

He shifts his feet, looking down at the dirt. A picture of heavy silence and awkwardness that feels unnatural when you know who Party Poison is. But no one does anymore, no one besides the people closer to him. One of which he feels like he has to know all over again.

He was always awful at this. He doesn't need the extra levels of difficulty on making any of this stuff work.

He glances out down the street, now darkening for the short night. He's not looking for anything but an excuse to break the silence. A deep breath through his nose, and it still doesn't feel like his lungs fill up.

Here's an attempt.]

How, huh...how are...how y' holdin' up?

[ Well, fuck you, Party Poison. You call that an attempt? No wonder you fucked up so bad.]