[network] Noisy Black, Part Three [open] [horror/surgery effects/note specifics please]

[snowblindmods]

[Talk to the sinners. Plan a way in. Plan a way out.]

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[bywolves]

[ He just - he just remembers the name. Is it a name or is it something else? He just knows he was trying to hold onto it. ]

No. [ Another shivery breath. ] Who are you?

[devoutish]

Your friend Solomons.

You need to remember Mercy. Who is she, again?

[bywolves]

[ He's trying. Mercy is his daughter? He can't - he can't remember her. He can't remember having a daughter. Who did he have a daughter with?

Royce whines something that sounds like I don't know, but it's garbled. ]

Can't see face. [ He's struggling to remember what she might have looked like. He should remember this, right? It's just... ] Who Royce?

[devoutish]

You. You're Royce Melborn. Your daughter's Mercy, your wife's Gwen, and your partner's Hadrian.

[bywolves]

[ He's Royce. Gwen, and Mercy, and Hadrian - all three of them at once have him curling into himself, breaths shaking as tears drip down his face for the thousandth time since he got here. Since he got - here, he doesn't know where he is, but he knows he feels like he's been in this cell for years.

He mumbles their names. Morse is so hard to concentrate on. ]

I caanh... Merhhe. [ Royce manages, voice wet and choked. ] I'm...

[devoutish]

Royce, just say it in your head if you can't say it out loud. Mercy.

[bywolves]

[ Mercy. He's Royce, and he wanted to marry Gwen. Their daughter was - is Mercy. She's waiting for him. Royce keeps his eyes closed. He's Royce. That's who he is. ]

Forgetting. [ Royce taps, even as he chokes on a bit of a quiet sob. ] Want this to end.

[devoutish]

[He knows.

Alfie taps out M-E-R-C-Y for him, over and over again.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce listens, for a minute, and then makes a quiet, exhausted sound. ]

Alfie. [ He knows you, buddy. ]

[devoutish]

Mmm.

[Excuse the lack of real response Royce, he's getting all choked up over here.]

Yeah.

I am so sorry we cannot do more for you.

cw: suicidal ideation

[bywolves]

[ Royce makes another sound, something softer. It's the general cadence of it's okay. He figures Alfie will understand. ]

Want death. [ His breath hitches again - still crying, quietly. He really does. He doesn't think he'll get it. ] Forgetting. Fed from bag.

[devoutish]

It'll end. It's likely to end very, very soon; it's been days, now.

[bywolves]

[ He's trying to pull himself together, it's just... hard. ]

How many?

[devoutish]

Today is the fourth.

[bywolves]

[ Four days. It's all blurred together. Royce just lays there, catching his breath, and then, sluggishly: ] You sleep.

[ He's terrified of forgetting. But Alfie needs to sleep. ]

[devoutish]

I slept already. I'm gonna be walking in a couple of hours.

[bywolves]

Time?

[devoutish]

Nearly five.

[bywolves]

Morning? [ He can't tell. ]

[devoutish]

Mm. Morning.

When the doors unlock, I'll continue on through the area with all the flats. It's difficult walking, but I'm nearly there.

[bywolves]

Careful. [ He knows Alfie will be. Still. ] Safe.

[ He's so glad this isn't happening to Alfie. ]

[devoutish]

[Yeah, speaking of that...]

Course I will.

I wish this weren't happening to you.

[bywolves]

[ There's a part of him that thinks maybe he deserves it. He doesn't voice that. ]

Only four days. [ He knows - he's pretty sure he had something worse. He can't remember what happened to him. ]

[devoutish]

Four days is bad enough, Royce.

[bywolves]

[ Royce. He's Royce. He taps it absently to himself, thinking the letters. Absorbing them. He very slowly tries to arrange his robe closer. He can't, very well. ]

Think been thru wrse.