[log] Event: Breaking Down [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: anyone pulled into the Escherverse
Location: Escherverse
Date: Morning 220 - Night 221
Summary: All alone/Even when I was a child/I've always known/There was something to be frightened of
Warnings: general horror, violence warnings; make sure to put more specific warnings in the subject lines!

Comments

[devoutish]

Well-- it can't go on forever.

[He hopes.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce extends one claw - it's very Dementor-like - and inches a little closer. Maybe if he keeps trying to talk it'll get easier. ]

Hhh. [ Royce tries, and then shudders, distorting for a moment. ]

[devoutish]

[Once he's standing, Alfie reaches out and gives Royce a little pat on his knife-claw-hand-thing. It's okay, friend.]

[bywolves]

[ He isn't expecting it - and while it does feel reassuring, Royce still yanks that claw back hurriedly. Mostly because he doesn't want Alfie to get hurt. Or like, pass out again from touching him. ]

Hhhh. [ Royce tries again, and then makes a frustrated sort of sound before dropping down off the ceiling, hitting the floor and hiding under that chair Alfie used to stand up. He finally manages: ] Hhhhurts.

[devoutish]

Yeah.

[Poor Royce.]

Are you cutting yourself with those knives, mate?

[He can't see what's under them - if there's skin, or if it's metal all the way down.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce lifts his hand - or his cloak... parts, whatever. He lifts it enough so that Alfie can see under it. There's nothing really there at all - it appears that Royce is just physically a cloak with a weird human indent in it, though when he moves the fabric it makes a clanging sound, like someone with a pocket full of knives. They're not visible, though. ]

Mmm. [ He hums in confirmation. ] Can't see them.

[devoutish]

Here.

[Still walking carefully and gingerly, he makes his way over to his bags, where he has an extra blanket stored (the rest are still piled on the bed from the night before).]

Dunno if this'll help - you might use it as a cushion.

[Maybe he can shove it into his cloak's armhole? Hell if he knows.]

[bywolves]

[ As always, Alfie being good to him brings a lot of conflicted emotions. He's feeling a lot all at once, like he can't control all of his emotions, but if Alfie's still feeling other people's fears, he's going to get those huge spikes of panic and fear from Royce whenever Alfie gets close. Don't touch - but don't leave him, either. What if he's stuck like this? What if he's a monster forever? He's so scared of being a monster.

Royce hesitantly takes the blanket, pulling it down to settle under him. It gives the invisible knives a place to rest and not jitter around, at least. He pulls the rest of himself in close under the chair, dragging his shadow claws across the floor restlessly. ]

Sssorry. Sorry. [ Royce says, the dual-tone nature of his voice growing more prominent the more he speaks. ]

SORRY hit enter too soon etc. etc.

[devoutish]

Not your fault.

[And when Alfie says that, he actually means it - if he blamed Royce even a little bit, he'd say so. Ambling into the bedroom, he returns with more blankets, and even a small pillow.]

This'll be done in a few days, surely.

[He's repeating himself, but it bears repeating - he can feel Royce's fear as strongly as if it were his own. But he's not going anywhere. Not even into the other room, for now.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce knows he means it. It doesn't make him less sorry. The cloak ripples unhappily under the chair. The blanket might have a few tears in it by the end of this, as much as he's trying not to. ]

Didn't want to. Steal. [ He doesn't want to get his hopes up, either. ] Want more.

[devoutish]

Can you ignore it?

[bywolves]

Tried. Trying.

[devoutish]

Mm.

[Alfie keeps the last of the blankets in his arms for himself, wrapping it around his shoulders as he goes to sit down on the couch.]

What hurts? Can you explain it?

[bywolves]

[ He thinks about it. It takes him a while to phrase it. ]

Everything. [ He doesn't look up when Alfie sits. He doesn't want Alfie to have to see the horrific lamprey-teeth he can feel leading all down what... should be his throat. The dual-tone shifts into hisses here and there, echoes at the end. ] Like swallowing knives. Sitting on a bed of broken glass when I move.

[devoutish]

Can you eat and drink?

[Because that could end up being a problem even if this only lasts for a few days.]

[bywolves]

No. [ Royce murmurs. ] Don't know if I need to. Can't sleep.

[devoutish]

You can't hold a water jug with those hands, can you.

[bywolves]

Would probably break it.

[devoutish]

I'll hold it for you. Just open your mouth and try to swallow.

[bywolves]

[ The cloak does another one of those unhappy ripples. ]

Don't. [ Don't come close, it's not worth it. ]

[devoutish]

Yeah. You need to drink.

[He sorts through his bag, unearthing a half-full tumbler of water.]

[bywolves]

Don't need it. Don't get close. [ Royce snaps, voice distorted and angry. The cloak jitters in place, and it sounds like dragging metal against metal, sharp and piercing. ]

[devoutish]

You can't not drink, and that's the fucking end of it. Royce--

[He makes an annoyed sound.]

I don't want to see you die of thirst.

[bywolves]

[ That dragging metal sound gets even worse. ]

Don't need it. [ He doesn't even have a mouth, he doesn't think, and - he doesn't want Alfie to get close because he doesn't trust himself. His echoing voice is a little desperate this time, but the cloak doesn't move yet. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie's quiet for a moment, thinking, but then he relents. He can watch Royce for any sign at all of dehydration - as much as he can when he's in this state, anyway - and then press the issue further if any come up.]

Mm.

Talking hurts?