[log] Noisy Black Part Three - Mingle [closed]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: characters participating in the noisy black event
Location: An office building.
Date: Night 261 - Day 262
Summary: Conversion and exploration.
Warnings: body horror, body trauma, medical horror, psychological trauma, forced IVs/forced feeding, note specifics in subject lines please

Sinners
Converted
Exploration

Comments

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys can only give a broken laugh, curling up to rest against the cool bars for a minute. It hurts a little less this way, for a minute.

"Don't think any of us are safe. Maybe they figure we'll eat each other."

He feels like there's more to the song, but Lee Hazlewood's half doesn't work in his head, even though the words do. It's a weird disconnect.

Some velvet morning when I'm straight...

"I guess that's what monsters do, right? We consume. We take."

He reaches up to touch the horns on his head, touching the bone with a shudder. "Truth in advertising...'the devil hath a pleasing countenance...'"

[termineur]

He doesn't think he can really counter that argument- either argument. It would explain why no one has been by in...how long? He didn't even remember. Clearly they were being left for dead. And he had to be a monster, one who took other people's specialness.

The nicest possible term for it was predator, and even that was too kind. They were evil. He doesn't speak for awhile. When he finally pipes up again, the emotion is thick in his voice. "I don't want to be this way. I'm sorry. I tried to stop, but it all kept falling apart. I tried everything I could think of. I'm not...how do we make it stop?"

He barely knew what he was saying, now. But there had to be something better than this. Anything was better than this.

[sleight_of_fate]

Kind of awful how much it explains, isn't it? Rhys has had longer to accept that quiet, horrible truth, and he's more resigned to it.

From the very start, he's known what he was. There's no illusions there.

"I don't know. Wish I did. I stopped. Don't know if it made things better or not. Seems like things got fucked up no matter what I did." He sighs quietly. Even when he was trying not to be a monster, bad things happened anyway.

Some are born to sweet delight...some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night.

Words that aren't his keep dancing through his head, bits of songs and poens and...aren't songs just poems set to music? He keeps trying to find the tune for that one, but there isn't one, and it seems strangely maddening.

"Maybe it's just what we're supposed to be. Wherever it leads." Some people do bad things. It's what they do. What they are. Maybe that's what this place is. To keep the good people safe from them. Because Rhys has never felt so naked, even though he can't even use his powers here.

[termineur]

They weren't words of comfort, but at least Gabriel wasn't alone in this. He certainly didn't have it in him to refute that this was what they were supposed to be. So he just leans forward, until his head is against the bars. It's the closest he can get to comfortable with his body like this.

Rhys might hear Gabriel sniffling from time to time. Or he might not- there were plenty of other noises of fear and sadness coming from all the other cells, after all.

[sleight_of_fate]

Comfort is a scarce resource here, but there's something to be said for company in Hell. Rhys doesn't have anything else to offer, not as tortured as he is, and it might be exactly why he's here: a confused and exhausted ruin years before he ever set foot in this place.

But for now, it's enough to settle his torment, let him ignore the voices, and if there's tears, well...there's going to be a lot of those anyway.

It's going to be a long night.