tushanshu_logs | I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

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I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

Characters: Gene, Alex, Miles, and Aly (not Jackie, the poor lamb has suffered enough. HE ALREADY RELIVED HIS DEATH RECENTLY OKAY)
Date: Throughout October
Location: House Spicy Iron Dragon, throughout Keeliai
Situation: Death visions? Death visions.
Warnings/Rating: Rated M for Murder. Specifically, gun violence, beheadings, and meatsplosions. No, seriously. Miles' death visions are especially brutal. That's what happens when you come from a horror canon.

A. [Gene] | House Spicy Iron Dragon | early October | Tony or Pepper, OR BOTH, FUN TIMES
Sometimes Gene doesn't let anyone else in the kitchen, even to clean up. He's scrubbing a plate in the sink, when—

—Tony's standing in front of him in his armor, and even underneath the mask Gene can tell that he's furious.

His rings are gone. He's utterly at Tony's mercy, beaten and bruised, and he knows the fight hasn't been 'fair'.

"You broke my heart. I should have done this a long time ago, you monster," Tony says, lifts his hand, charges a repulsor, and fires.

It hits Gene in the chest, and—

The plate shatters as it hits the floor, and Gene stumbles, bracing himself against the counter, shocked tears streaming down his face. He takes a deep breath, bends down to clean the shattered pieces up, and—

—the Mandarin is standing in front of him. He thinks it's Zhang, but when it speaks, he knows.

It's Pepper.

The Overlord's son had said she was the most worthy to wield the rings, and that's why he doesn't have them. She has them. She has all of them.

"Let me grant your wish. Goodbye, Gene," she says, and she lifts her hand. The tenth ring glows, and the most horrifying thing he can imagine happens.

He can feel himself being unmade. Atom by atom. He's frozen; he can't even scream. He's being unmade, unwritten, removed from time itself. And he knows she'll keep him conscious until the very end. After all he's done, he deserves nothing less.

I'm sorry, is the last thought he ever has.

Gene lurches back to his feet, ignoring the cut on his hand from the broken crockery, and vomits into the sink. I have to re-wash these dishes, he thinks fuzzily, because if he thinks about anything else he'll start screaming and never stop.

B. [Gene] | Jade Dojo | early October | open
It's been a few days since Gene's visions, and he's finally beginning to calm down.

Mistake.

The one with Pepper hits him again like a freight train. It's not any easier to deal with the second time, and he leans his head against the wall, trying to force his nausea down.

C. [Alex] | KPD | early October | Valdis
Alex is walking down the hall when he hears the gunshots.

There shouldn't be any gunshots, and he spins around to confront the attacker, and—

—the car swerved. Time slowed in the way that it does during a catastrophe, and Alex's analytical mind went through every little detail in the three seconds before the Komitet car crashed.

One: The Jackal had found them and identified them as allies of David/Jason/Delta.

Two: Alex immediately knew that the driver was dead.

Three: Kruppie had been shot.

Four: So had he.

Five: In the throat.

Six: Fuck.

There was a screech of metal as the car hit the side of a bus, and—

Alex stumbles, losing his grip on his cane, leaning against the wall, his breathing heavy. Breathing. He could breathe. He hadn't been shot. Not again. He's in Keeliai, he's okay, Mo had told him that everything was going to be all right when - if - he went back home.

D. [Miles] | Metal Sector | mid-October | open
Miles has been having a wonderful roulette of visions. Only one's been the actual way he's died(?), but that doesn't mean the rest are any easier to deal with.

He's lurching towards the exit on a broken leg, bleeding out, half-mad. Almost there. Almost there.

The doors fly open, revealing Wernicke at the head of an entire squad of Merks. Miles raises his hands in surrender. Oh, fuck me—

They shoot anyway. They shoot, and shoot, and shoot, and eventually he falls. At some point, Miles wonders if that isn't overkill, but it doesn't matter. His vision's failing, and he's bleeding out on the floor, more bullet than person.

His skin prickles violently as his vision goes dark, and he thinks he can hear running and screaming.

And if that's not what's happening in his head, it's this:

Under the bed. He's safe under the bed, right? He's breathing too loud, too harsh, shut up, shut up, get it together, Miles, he'll hear you, he'll kill you, shut up!

Chains rattle as Walker lurches down the hallway. At least he's louder than Miles. And at least maybe that means Walker won't hear him. Maybe that means he'll be safe—

"Little pig!" Walker reaches under the bed, grabs him, hauls him up by the neck, and Miles can feel horrible, tearing pain for a second. The last thing he sees is Walker's permanently-bared teeth, and his own headless body lying on the floor.

He ripped my damn head off. What a way to go.

Or, only once (which is more than enough):

Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck!

The Walrider's behind him. It had just juiced Walker, but after he'd spoken to Wernicke, it seemed that whatever goodwill Miles had earned with Billy had run out. He's running down the hallway, feet pounding on the floor, heart pounding in his ears, and he ducks into a side corridor to try and juke the thing.

He almost swears when he sees that it's a dead end, but when he looks up, he sees an open vent. He jumps for it, his blood-slick hands scrabbling on the metal, but he slips down.

He's face-to-face with the Walrider. The nanites enter his body, an excruciating pins-and-needles-like sensation spreading through him, and then—

The sharp burst of pain and a cloud of blood before nothingness means he's been turned into a fine red mist.

Miles staggers over to a nearby trashcan and throws up after that one.

E. [Aly] | Wood Sector | early October | Devin
She's minding her own business when it happens.

Rebecca helps me to my feet as I spit yellow birch leaves.

“That everyone?” I ask, unsteady on my feet. “Status?”

There’s a murmured chorus of ‘fine’ from everyone, except for Annie, who whoops, “We kicked some faerie butt!”

I laugh, and Kath laughs, and even the Princeps smiles a little, and I start to relax.

The only indication I have that something’s wrong is a frisson of shock traveling down my connection from the wolf, and I can see him lunge towards me just before—

—intense, cold, searing pain in my neck, all through my neck, and I find myself tumbling backwards. I can see, blurrily, the third assassin, dripping wet, holding a sword drenched in my blood, and my body falling away as the wolf leaps over it to attack the assassin, and—

—oh. I think I’ve been beheaded, is the last thing I can think fuzzily before I quite suddenly don’t think anything at all.

Aly trips over her on feet, one hand over her mouth, the other rubbing the scar at her throat. In fact, she trips right into Devin.

Oh my God. Please let him not have seen that.

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One moment, Valdis is sitting in her office at the KPD, trying to think of things to do aside from the paperwork sitting in front of her and the next her mind explodes with emotions that do not belong. Fear. Confusion. And the emotion that only came in the moment that someone realized they were dying.

She bolted out of her seat, almost tearing the door to her office off its hinges as she flung it open and raced out into the hall. Two things became clear very quickly. First of all, no one was dying, and secondly, Alex was the source of the emotions.

"Alex?" Valdis said, her tone soft as she approached the older man, bending to pick up his cane before offering it to him.

How's that for a distraction?

Alex stared at nothing for a second before accepting his cane. "Thanks." He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, still nauseous. It had been more than a year since he'd told Pepper he was totally fine and tried to get around on his own. He'd thought about it since, especially because he'd eventually have to face it, but living it again with such immediacy really brought home the fact that he wasn't supposed to be here.

"What happened?" She asked after he had taken his cane, her tone perhaps a bit more tense than she preferred now that he seemed to have come out of, whatever that was, "It felt like you were dying."

Alex nodded and coughed, then took a few more deep breaths.

"Thought I was. That was...what happened before I came. Supposedly I'm going to be fine, but..."

"But you..." Valdis didn't like how these vision affected those around her, "That emotion, it comes with fear of death."

"Yeah, well. I didn't exactly think I was going to make it."

He paused.

"I'm sorry. You said something about an emotion?"

"It's like a sudden stop, a painful realization that your life wasn't enough." Or at least, the violent deaths did. "A mixture of many things. Regret. Fear. Sorrow." Valdis shook her head, "It's generally unique to each person, but in the end, death is the same."

"That would be...poetic, if it wasn't so accurate," he said, and winced. "I suppose this means you can, I don't know, read emotions?" He sounded utterly resigned. Nothing about this damn place would surprise him at this point.

Valdis' eyes narrowed, she'd forgotten that Alex didn't know, that most people didn't know and that she usually preferred that.

"Not quite," she replied, "I feel them, sometimes as if they were my own."

Devin has honestly been trying to avoid Aly, and the fact that they keep running into each other is moving from 'annoying' to 'outright odd'. It seems like they end up in the same place on a regular basis, even if it's not on purpose.

This time, though, it's different. Not unlike when he was drawn uninvited into Aly's dream, he's seeing something that doesn't belong to him - it's vivid in sight as much as sensation, even if he can tell it's separate from him. His lifestyle has meant a lot of injuries, but-- decapitation isn't the sort of thing that's survivable, even if he had gone through it.

The memory or vision or whatever it is passes almost as soon as it starts, and he reaches out to catch Aly before she falls on her face. He frowns at her in confusion.

"Are you alright?"

Shit. God, falling over into someone was just the worst. Falling over proper and landing right on your ass, even worse. But this isn't great either.

She tries to muster up some sarcastic response, or something annoyingly cheerful, but the only thing she can come up with is honesty.

"Not really," she chokes out, and looks ashamed, and annoyed at her own weakness.

Devin isn't expecting an honest reply, and it only impresses the seriousness of what he's seen even further. Aly Haskell, daunted.

It's tempting to get smart in response to her vulnerability, but somehow the distastefulness outweighs the perceived importance of pushing her away this time. That alone is troublesome. He sighs to himself and scans the street, then takes her by the elbow and gestures to a cafe. "Come on. You should sit before you fall into anyone else. Let me get you something hot to drink."

Aly shakes her head, but makes no effort to get away from him. She felt that phantom sensation occasionally and still had nightmares about it. That battle had been fun and games - well, as 'fun and games' as any battle can be. Right up until she got her fool head chopped off. They'd failed to do a - she grimaces - head count of the assassins, and one they thought had been taken out in Soren's flood took advantage of the chaos of the battle and...

...she rubs at her neck again. Yeah. A hot drink might help her suddenly aching throat.

Since Aly doesn't seem inclined to argue with the suggestion, Devin guides her towards the cafe and finds a place for them to sit that's gives them a modicum of privacy and quiet. The vampire orders a pot of tea to share.

"Take your time," is all he says to her. No prodding remarks, no snark. He even pulls his journal out of his pocket to signal that he's fine with not talking, if she wants, but doesn't begin writing anything yet.

Devin's being surprisingly caring. Almost suspiciously so. She'd bug him about that if she were in any state to do so.

Instead, she's sitting at the table, looking down, trying to regulate her breathing. When the tea comes, she pours for herself and drinks immediately, ignoring the burning pain.

There was a point at which callous turned into cruel, and Devin doesn't make a habit of crossing that line if it isn't necessary. He's more sedate about pouring himself some tea, and lets his gaze wander so Aly isn't under a microscope.

"You may want to take your time with that as well," he suggests mildly, "or the Healers Guild will be the next stop."

Experiencing the visions of others isn't new, but Pepper still isn't used to it, and if this kind of thing keeps up, she really hopes she never has occasion to. Getting accustomed to seeing deaths-- it wouldn't be so bad if they were a little more peaceful, but the turtle has a type, and that type comes with violence more often than not.

She's stepping out of a shop when the vision starts to unfold, breath hitching. Pepper's aware this isn't hers, but there's only so much distance from the sensations and emotions. Everything dissolves into gunfire, over and over and over and Pepper already hated guns and now she hates them more. Staggering back into the wall, she barely manages to stay upright as the vision fades, leaving her pale and shaking.

It takes her a moment or five to collect herself and locate who that glimpse of death belongs to - the hands up were missing fingers. "M-- Miles? Did you--? Was that--?"

Miles had been trying to go about his day. Really. But after suddenly having a flashback to having been turned into swiss fucking cheese, complete with almost-100%-relived pain, he's got the impression that he's not about to do that anymore. He's wan, and he seems to be a little, well, hazy - as he breathes heavily, the thin dark fog surrounding him disappears and he grits his teeth in pain, stomping his foot once.

Fucking Walrider.

Its 'heart' was in the right place, he guessed, but that was shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted. Just a vision. Nothing more.

He looks up, realizing that he was being addressed. "Oh. Uh...hi Pepper." Play it cool.

Seeing the Walrider released only partially was simultaneously concerning and heartening - Miles stayed in control. Good, that's good. Pepper blinks at him for several seconds, straightening from her lean against the wall.

"That was a lot of bullets," she says a little dumbly.

It's the sound of the plate breaking that draws Pepper's attention. She knows Gene is cleaning up, and dishes getting dropped is a thing that happens occasionally in any household, but she decides to make sure he's alright anyway.

She trots downstairs, and what was mild concern a moment ago turns into genuine worry when she sees Gene curled over the sink.

"Gene? Hey, are you okay?" Pepper comes up next to him and realizes he's been sick - gross, but she can ignore that, something is seriously not good. "Here, let me help," she adds, resisting her gag reflex and putting her hands on his shoulders.

When Gene feels the hands on his shoulders, he whirls his head around; seeing Pepper, he chokes, stumbles backwards, and trips over his own feet. He's too terrified to think straight, and he scrambles away from her until he's backed up against a wall.

"No no no no no," he gasps, his voice breaking. "Don't kill me."

Pepper's heart twists at the evident terror on Gene's face, and she wants to go to him, but-- he's panicked enough that he's effectively backed himself into a corner. The fact that he's afraid of her brings shocked tears to her eyes, and she stays put, holding her hands up.

"Hey, whoa, slow down, Gene," she soothes gently, kneeling but coming no closer. "You're-- you're safe here, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'd never--" She can't even bring herself to say the words. "It's just me."

He's still panicking, his heart thudding in his ears, and his hand flies to his neck for the one thing he can use to protect himself.

The rings. The rings are there. The rings are there which means Pepper doesn't have them which means he's safe which...

"Oh, God," he breathes, leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes streaming, clutching the necklace like it's a lifeline. "God."

Whatever is going on either has something to do with the rings, or they're just proving to be a comfort. Either way, Pepper remains where she is, confused and worried and even a bit scared.

"Just-- just take it easy, you're safe," she repeats, a little helplessly. "Everything's gonna be okay. What can I do?"

Tony's head jerks up when he hears a muffled clattering noise – one must always be alert to unexpected sounds of things breaking when in the lab – but he realizes it came from upstairs in the kitchen, not from any of his equipment.

He's really tempted to say 'not my problem' and keep working (he's in the middle of something and he hates being interrupted when he's in the zone), but he has been firmly trained in Good Roommate skills as well as How To Not Be A Completely Insufferable Spoiled Pig Of A Boyfriend skills and knows better. Also, he has a pile of empty plates and mugs that he needs to take back upstairs and wash before it gets too shameful. Might as well kill two Mandroids with one repulsor. He grabs the stack of dishes and trots upstairs.

Observations: One (1) broken plate, consistent with predictive model. Two (2) friends in different stages of freaking out, not accounted for by predictive model. Critical data about the starting conditions was clearly lacking.

"Uh." Tony stops in the threshold, awkwardly holding his dirty dishes, and his eyes widen with alarm. "What happened? Gene, are you okay? Pepper, what's going on?"

Pepper's his friend. Pepper won't hurt him.

He still feels cold. Being torn apart atom by atom didn't really give him a chance to 'feel' much of anything, but not existing was probably like that cold darkness between the stars. And he doesn't want to answer her, because he's not sure what he'd say, and not sure what would be true. 'Go away' would be obvious, but it wouldn't work. He'd prefer to have her where he could see her.

Pepper's his friend. Pepper won't hurt him!

He hears Tony's voice from the threshold and glances at him like a scared rabbit. Seeing what he'd seen about Tony? He can deal with that better. It's a common nightmare of his, one that often sends him to the roof with some tea whenever he has it. His dreams are always vivid, but this is different. These had had the mental tenor of the visions that had plagued him since he was a child, but they couldn't both be true. The Makluan Overlord's son was dead, and that meant he wouldn't be able to give Pepper the genetic markers necessary to activate the rings.

Of course, all of that means absolutely nothing when you're panicking.

So Gene says nothing, his eyes darting between Pepper and Tony like both of them are lions that could attack him at any moment.

Pepper honestly isn't sure that Tony's arrival is helpful, mostly because Gene's 'cornered animal' vibe seems to ratchet up another notch when he sees him. That's more than a little heartbreaking - she thought that Tony's presence would have helped.

"I don't know," she tells Tony shakily from her spot on the floor. "He thought I was going to hurt him-- I was just trying to help. You should maybe get out of the doorway." At least give Gene a visible means of escape.

Oh, boy. Tony's familiar by now with these sorts of episodes, but he still feels helpless when it happens. And this seems different – usually it's nightmares, and usually Gene can shake them off once Tony's snapped him out of it. It doesn't look like he's snapping out of this. He looks terrified.

"I— yeah. Right," he says to Pepper, scooting into the kitchen to clear the doorway. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he backs away from Gene is crouched, discarding his dishes on the dining table without a further thought.

"Gene? We're not going to hurt you, I swear. Talk to me. What happened?"

Gene hunches his shoulders and tries to get his brain together. "I..." He tries to breathe, and it's hard - not because of any particular physical issue, but because he's still at least twenty percent sure that he's dead.

If the way Pepper had killed him was impossible, the death at Tony's hand was still very much on the table. "You both killed me," he says quietly, still clutching the rings. He hasn't put them on or made any attempt to flee, but it's clear that he's spooked enough to consider it.

That last is almost like a blow, because Pepper can't imagine ever wanting to do that to Gene, and all it does is make them inescapably the cause of his fear.

"No," is all she says at first, and it's a childish whine of a word. "No, no way. For one thing, you're definitely alive, and we'd never--" Pepper takes a breath, tries to find something to say that isn't just denial. "Gene, you're our family, okay? Whatever you saw, it wasn't real." Not yet, anyway. Hopefully not ever. "This is real, right here."

Tony looks hurt, but not surprised. Getting Gene to open up about his nightmares is like pulling teeth sometimes, but Tony's gotten enough out of him to make the educated guess that he often dreams of Tony killing him. Which isn't surprising, really. Pepper, though... that's new.

"Gene, tell us what you saw."

Tony's just as upset as Pepper is, but he has more experience with this, and his first concern is to get Gene talking. You can't just tell someone who's having a flashback or a panic attack that what they're experiencing isn't real - you have to get them to recognize it themselves.

Gene shakes his head and takes a few deep breaths. Don't they understand? Saying it makes it real, a possibility, brings it into the realm of the concrete from the abstract. Once it's out there, the idea in their heads too instead of just his own, the virus is going to spread. If he keeps it to himself, he's the only one who has to suffer.

But they've taught him better than that, and, against his will, he's been learning, too.

"Tony, you were, the...usual," he mumbles. "Repulsor through the heart. Pepper..." He glances at Pepper and looks away, unable to meet her eyes.

"You were given the rings instead of me. You didn't just kill me, you...unmade me."

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I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

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hey mate quit leaning on the fourth wall :P

I was gonna have him blame it on some cosmic thing for him to grump about later :P

the gods must be crazy :V

in the best way

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