tushanshu_logs | Trouble Down Under

Entry tags:

Trouble Down Under

Characters: Vincent Moore & Raine Sage; Second part Open
Date: 07/07 -> 08/07
Location: Vincent's Room; Midnight Hotel Lobby
Situation: Vincent is dealing with some mental demons / The random vision of much suffering.
Warnings/Rating: Spoilers for CHAPPiE. Swearing, triggering content, including talk of death/suicide in the first section, as well as mention of the vision, which will be under a cut.

Vincent wasn't coping well.

He'd managed to persuade the... "healer" that he was well enough to take care of himself. They had him checked into some sort of hotel, and... he hasn't moved. He hasn't eaten, or ventured outside since, and that was about a week ago. He has been showering, drinking, cleaning his clothes, so he's not entirely despondent... but he has bigger things on his mind than eating.

Why was he here? Was this some sort of near-death experience? Was his life, in the real world, slowly ticking down the seconds until his brain stops thinking, his heart stops beating?

He could feel, though. Everything felt real. It was... Well, he didn't know what. Purgatory? Like he deserved that chance... not after what he did.

They deserved it, though. Did they? Vincent can barely remember what happened, just a maelstrom of emotions, of rage, of sheer pleasure, the bloodrush he hasn't felt since leaving the Army... He's done something awful. Murdered people. He can't remember who, though. Not yet.

He closes his eyes, trying to make sense of it. He remembers pinning Wilson against a desk, gun pressed to his head. "Give... Me... the... Guard... Key..." His lips form the words as he remembers them. He also remembers that... abomination. The one who forgave him.

To err is human, to forgive is divine.

And then, something else.

TELL ME!

That sudden voice has Vincent surging to his feet, stumbling back, and into a wall as the vision plays out, sinking to the floor and holding his head, bunching up into a ball.

---

OPEN - Late night Tuesday / Early Morning Wednesday

Vincent hasn't been seen since he checked in, but now he's shuffling his way down into the common areas, stopping by the kitchen first, securing some soup and heating it up. He's also brewing himself some tea and, by the look of things, it's mostly on autopilot. He does, occasionally, glance up and around, nervously, but, then again, everyone's on edge right now.

Food and tea prepared, he's going to walk into the common area, sitting down close to the fire, but removed from the centre of the room; a place with a good vantage point.

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The vision had left all of them unsettled. Raine wasn't sure whether she preferred having that to focus on over her brother's disappearance, or if she'd rather have the pain of the loss without the overlying horror of what had been done to the children back then.

It didn't really matter, she supposed; she did not, in the end, have the choice. What she did have was the capability to help, at least in some cases, and thus when Deon dropped several not particularly subtle hints about the man they'd saved possibly doing something stupid, Raine had taken that as justification enough to check in on him. She found his room without much trouble, paused outside the door.

Deon had also mentioned that Vincent was dangerous. Hardly news, here, everyone was dangerous in their own way-- but worth keeping in mind, nevertheless. And it said something, that Deon might be concerned for a man who'd nearly shot him. Caution, then, but not fear. Raine tapped at the door, would upgrade that to rapping with her staff if there was no response. "Vincent? It's Raine. The healer?"

There's definitely a response.

"Leave me alone!"

His voice is hoarse, pained, filled with emotion; fear and panic, mostly. He can't really be blamed.

The door is also unlocked, should Raine wish to try her luck.

That really does sound like the voice of someone about to do something stupid. "Not until I'm sure you're all right," she says levelly, a calm contrast to his emotion. She tries the door, and when she finds it unlocked pushes it open just a little. There's still a door between them, mostly, but it's a declaration of intent. A cautious one, but nevertheless. "When was the last time you left this room?"

"I said, leave me the fuck alone!" Another growling yell, more persistent, definitely... There's the sound of someone trying to stand up, but not quite making it, the thud of something- or someone- heavy hitting the floor.

Raine is, regrettably, very familiar with what it sounds like when six foot plus of overextended man hits the floor. She sighs, pushes the door the rest of the way open, and levels Vincent with a flat, unimpressed sort of a look. This will likely be the only chance she has to tower over him, so she's taking advantage while she has it.

"No," she says, quite bluntly. "Not until I'm satisfied that you're not a danger to yourself. You can't stand under your own power, can you? Have you been eating and sleeping?" Tell her you're not being that stupid, Vincent. Please.

"I can stand..." He snarls, actually managing to push himself up... but he's a bit unsteady on his feet. Definitely lacking energy. "That isn't the bloody problem. The problem is this place..." He shakes his head, stumbling back against the wall. "This has to be a fucking dream... it has to be."

Raine rests the butt of her staff on the floor, eyes narrowing. "Don't be ridiculous," she says, bluntly. "A world outside your paradigm doesn't have to be a dream. It's simply different from what you're used to, that's all."

It's in the nature of people, to hate and fear what's different.

"I understand you're confused," she says in a moment, making an effort to gentle her tone that succeeds only marginally. "It was the vision, wasn't it? Unfortunately, that was no dream. It was a memory, of something that happened in the past. This world is no dream either."

She's going to try to be patient with him. And maybe not bring in the matter of the Dreaming just yet, while he's so disoriented.

"I nearly died." Vincent growls. "I nearly died and I woke up in some weird-arse dimension with visions and magic." He laughs, bitterly. "You're trying to convince me this isn't a dream? It's gonna take more than your say-so, shiela, make no mistake."

Excuse him, he's going to slide to the floor again. He definitely looks pale, weak... he likely hasn't been eating.

She's had worse nicknames, so that's not worth commenting on. Raine doesn't go to his side, though, stays where she is and watches him carefully. She's not chancing approaching till he's a little more settled. "If you're determined not to believe it, there's little I can do to convince you," she says, levelly. "I am, after all, a stranger and a mage, and I doubt you trust me at the moment. All the reasonable proof in the world can't do anything if you won't listen to the person giving it."

Which puts them at somewhat of an impasse, except for the fact that Vincent is on the floor again and Raine is in near-perfect health. She shakes her head. "If this is a dream, you've been here weeks and haven't woken from it. It won't harm you to act as though it's real."

He's going to pull his legs closer, resting his forehead against his knees and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"I know... It... I can't be hallucinating." He can still feel the pain. The pang of hunger and the dizzyness were all too real; He remembers this from when he used to spend hours up in the hangar working on the Moose. And then he flinches slightly at remembering that damned machine.

"I'm... sorry. It's just..." Confusing. He doesn't really need to explain that, does he?

It's progress, of a sort, though the way Vincent curls in on himself tells Raine she'll need to at least try to be a little gentler. "You're overwhelmed," Raine says. Carefully, she settles to the ground, legs crossed, shifts her staff to lie across her lap. "Take it one step at a time. I can answer any questions you may have, but first..."

She considers him again. Wellness, as much as is possible, should come before the explanations. "When was the last time you ate?" she asks, prodding a little. "We can go down to the kitchen together, or I can bring something up for you." Not an option: not eating.

"Understatement of the bloody century." Vincent growls at the diagnosis of him being overwhelmed. Honestly. What gives that impression?

At the question of when he last ate, he shrugs a shoulder. "Dunno. Maybe three... four days ago?" He, honestly, can't remember.

As she is a responsible adult, Raine refrains from rolling her eyes at him. "It's little wonder you can't stand, then. Food should be the first order of business." But she stays where she is for the moment, thinking. Helping him down the stairs seems unlikely to be his choice, but if she leaves to retrieve food he may well lock her out of the room this time. He didn't specify a preference, but... hm. "Have you slept at all, either?"

Edited 2015-07-29 09:48 (UTC)

"Off and on." He doesn't really have the energy to lie. Whatever he had before he expended on that little outburst a few minutes ago. "I won't lock the door if you're that eager to make me eat."

A slight chuckle.

"I can barely stand any more."

She eyes him a moment longer, then nods and stands. "All right," she says, choosing to believe him on that count. "I'll be back shortly."

Mercifully, there's still premade meals in the Hotel refrigerator; Vincent will never know how close he came to Raine's 'experimental' cooking tactics. She hunts for something lighter, reasoning if he hasn't eaten for a while it's not a good idea to overwhelm him that way too, finally finds something that looks like it involves broth and heats it till it seems a reasonable temperature for consumption. All told it's a few minutes until she's back and offering Vincent food, entirely serious about making sure he eats something.

"Do you have questions?"

He takes it, waiting for it to cool a bit.

"Only the obvious." He replies, before taking a spoonful of the microwaved broth.

"What you think is obvious may not be," Raine reminds him, not unkindly. She sits down opposite him again, watching him eat. "For instance, until I arrived here, I could barely have conceived of a world where magic of some kind didn't exist at all."

She's conversant with a fair number of Earth things by now, at least, mostly by virtue of questioning her friends when things don't make sense. "The city itself seems fairly self-explanatory; it's a place like any other. The manner in which we were brought here, then? Or..." The vision. "The enemy we were brought to fight, perhaps. Dead now, but you saw something of him."

"More like heard." He can't help but shiver. Vincent considers himself a rather tough individual, and his credentials and experience speak volumes, but...

He's feeling a cold sense of dread in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that vision. The one that sliced through the maelstrom of his own thoughts so cleanly.

"So... that was this... Malicant bloke?"

Raine can't blame him for that shiver. Malicant was quite frankly one of the worst experiences of her life.

She nods, though 'this Malicant bloke' seems utterly inadequate. "An incorporeal being created to kill, and subsequently escaped from its creators," she explains. She doesn't feel the need to clarify what happened to those creators; it seems obvious. "The drive to spread destruction and suffering seemed to be an integral part of its sentience. It was a great enough threat that the Emperor Eshai, one of the previous rulers of Keeliai, felt it necessary to summon those suitable to fight it from other worlds."

"And this... thing is gone?" His next question is obvious; "So why are people still showing up?"

He frowns. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you managed to heal me up and all, but... It's not like I asked to be here."

"It's gone, yes." It had better be. Raine pauses there, and she looks a little bit troubled. In a moment she continues with less than optimal news.

"We don't know why. And anyone who had anything to do with the creation and maintenance of the spell is dead now." And extraordinarily unavailable for comment. She sighs. "None of us asked to be here, though many of us have made the best of it. Keeliai seems to offer second chances, of a sort, to many of those who had less than optimal situations in their home worlds."

There's a grunt to that. Not much he can really say in response. He can't say he'll take this supposed second chance... not when he isn't sure what his mind is saying to him any more.

A strong part of him wants to call bullshit on all of this. Sink back into the reasoning that this is all some crazed near-death experience, or that he's high on the drugs the hospital's using to treat his actual injuries.

That would make sense, but...

He feels hunger. He feels fatigue. He feels thirst. Stuff he shouldn't feel if this is a delusion, right?

Besides, after what you've done, your afterlife should be very different...

"I'm not... used to this sorta stuff." He admits. An apology? Maybe. "It's... a lot to take in."

Raine can recognize not-quite apologies, and can acknowledge that's probably about the best she can hope for right now. She inclines her head to him, a slow, careful gesture, and folds her hands in her lap.

She can't quite understand why he is still having so much trouble accepting his situation, but then again she's always been very good at processing data down into something that makes sense. Even when it's absolutely terrible. Perhaps, raised in a world without magic, without being able to sense the life of the world, she would not be nearly so open to new ideas? Impossible to tell. "It can be," she says, neutrally. "But the situation is unlikely to change significantly in the near future, and we lack an intentional way back." Denial is not going to do anything but delay him. Raine quiets there, half-expecting more questions from him.

"Intentionally?"

So there was a way back... It just relied on chance? The same as showing up here?

Raine nods. Looks, for a moment, downcast, before she shakes it off. "It's been determined that when we leave here, we return to our own worlds at the time we left," she says, simply. "Sometimes, people simply... vanish. No one is quite sure what causes it-- for some time, we ascribed it to Malicant, but that's obviously no longer possible. Perhaps the initial spell is degrading, and eventually we will no longer be called at all. It's impossible to tell right now." She'd love to study the spellwork, but she hasn't the faintest idea where to begin; it's something that's around them and woven into the world, it seems, and if there's a physical component aside from the gems -- which weren't even always a factor -- she's yet to hear of it.

Trouble Down Under

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