snowblindrpg | [log] Disappear [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Disappear [closed]

Characters: Stephen, Peter, Bucky, and Steph
Location: The area that once contained building 279
Date: Morning 265
Summary: This building is pining for the fjords
Warnings: Mass confusion

[279: THIS BUILDING DOES NOT EXIST.

This looks like any place in Norfinbury that doesn't have anything there: just empty snow and rubble. When a person tries to traverse it, they will realize that they've gone around the area instead of through it after they have gone around.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You kind of suck at this.

[But that kind of helps, in a way, counter-intuitively enough. Stephen huffs out a soft sound of amusement, glancing at him more openly now.]

N...nope, that doesn't sound the same as what you said last time. Let's try again. Say it with me. Peter Quill is the best and I'm sorry for being a total buttmunch. It's not hard.

[He smirks, obviously not actually offended.]

Peter Quill is a buttmunch? That's kind of a weird thing to ask me to say. Not that I'm going to argue, I mean, you know yourself best.

What!? No! No, that is not what I said at all.

Not even close. Clean your ears and try again.

Edited 2017-08-22 15:47 (UTC)

I guess I'm just a little confused about why you're apologizing to me to begin with.

I'm NOT! Didn't you hear what I said, Doctor Weirdo?

[Hmmph. A smirk. He promptly reaches down and picks up a handful of snow. He smushes it into a snowball, and promptly throws it at Stephen like the extremely mature adult he is.]

You're just going to have to learn to speak a little more cl --

[Stephen reflexively lifts his arm to block, but the snowball splatters against his shoulder.]

Oh, now you've done it.

[Except when Stephen stoops to do the same his hands are shaking badly enough that he can hardly pack the snow together. He stands back up, a snowball in his rubber gloved hands, and narrows his eyes at Peter.]

Come over here.

[Peter's too excited to really notice Stephen's hands shaking badly when he picks up the snow. He shakes his head, grinning gleefully, as he reaches down to scoop up a new ball, and holds it up, ready to strike again.]

Nope.

[Nothing for it -- Stephen just gives it his best try and hucks the snowball. He's learned to compensate fairly well, but there's a reason he was doing fewer and fewer things by hand back when he had his magic.]

[The snowball collides with Peter's shoulder as he ducks, snorting with laughter, as he chucks the snowball towards Stephen's face. This was stupid and completely fun, something that would easily happen between the Guardians.

He tries to rapidly gather up another one.]

Face it, wizards suck at snowball fights. It's just fact.

[Again Stephen brings his arms up to block, still never having quite lost the habit of reflexively trying to summon shields. It hits his crossed forearms, and he rapidly stoops to reload as well.]

Talk to me when we lose the nanomachines and I'll summon an avalanche for you.

[Somehow. He can probably figure out how to do that.]

There's no way you can summon an entire avalanche. I'd like to see you try, doctor doofus.

[He quickly attempts to reload as well, but he presents an open target as he takes his eyes off Stephen a moment to grab a mound of snow.]

Try me.

[He'd figure it out. He's good at figuring things out. Meantime, he steps in closer and hurls his handful of snow before darting off northward.]

I'll be in the front row of your Vegas show when you use some dry ice and soap shavings and paper streamers in your grand illusion. And when it inevitably sucks, you'll hear me going--ahahahahahaha--OOF!

[He was too busy weaving an elaborate insult and gets clocked in the face. Ow, that's cold--]

I'll have my revenge!

[He chases after Stephen, trying to scoop up some snow while running at the same time.]

[In the moment, Stephen had felt alive again, ready to push himself to this kind of exertion. For a few long strides he goes on feeling that way, laughing to himself at the sounds of anger behind him -- but all too soon the cold air in his lungs is too sharp and he can't breathe. He stumbles to a stop, his breathing too fast and too high as he blinks at the landscape in sudden disorientation.]

[Peter's laughing, holding up a snowball, ready to throw it. But he stops dead in his tracks when he he realizes Stephen's not right behind him, and he's just...stopped there, blinking. Peter frowns, his brows furrowing, still holding up the snowball.]

Stephen?

[His heart's thudding away and he doesn't even know why -- just that something's wrong, something awful and unstoppable is coming. The sudden breathlessness feeds into itself, triggering memories of when he couldn't breathe for the screaming, for not having working lungs with which to breathe, the Dark Dimension and the operating room crowding together in his mind. Where is he?

Peter's voice registers distantly and he turns his eyes to look at him, unfocused and confused. A snowball -- that doesn't make any sense.]

What?

Edited 2017-09-13 22:13 (UTC)

[Yeah, something's wrong.

Peter drops the snowball and runs over to him.]

Stephen? Stephen, look at me, dude. Are you okay? What's wrong?

[He's instantly concerned, after what had just happened he really didn't know if this was maybe a flashback, or a panic attack, or something horrible thing leftover from what they did to him.]

I don't --

[He shakes his head sharply, breath puffing out in visible clouds. Stephen squeezes his eyes shut but that's worse; they come flying open again. He's shaking all over and he has to fight to gulp down air.]

I need -- out --

[There's not much more out they can get at the moment, but he lurches forward, driven to move, to get away.]

Stephen, you're outside.

[Peter has had panic attacks before, when he was young and his mother just died and he'd been captured by aliens, but he hasn't had one in awhile, and Yondu would just yell at him to 'pull yourself together, boy! Y'ain't soft, are ya!? Soft humans get eaten 'round here!' Peter very much doubted that'd help anyone.]

You're out, dude, look--we're outside!

[Peter's words are registering, finally. Stephen reaches out to grip his shoulder, fingers twisting in whatever sleeve or strap they find. He'll be mortified later over losing control like this over nothing, literally nothing, but right this second he needs to prove to himself that what he's seeing around him is real.]

I couldn't -- couldn't stay --

[He'd spent so much of that time not knowing where he was, unable to stay connected to reality.]

[Peter doesn't move, and nods slowly.]

It's okay, man. Don't worry about it.

[He's not entirely sure what he's talking about, and to be honest, it's a little scary to see a person--especially someone as competent as Stephen--just--lose control like this. Panic attacks when he was a kid mostly consisted of him crying and finding the smallest place on the ship to hide in, but kids did stuff like that all the time. Whatever they did to him in there...a flash of unbridled rage at this helltown. Look what they'd done to him.]

You're gonna be fine. Deep breaths, right?

[Stephen nods, sucking in a breath. Just breathe. When did he get to feeling so raw? He realizes distantly that his face is too cold, that he must be crying, and swipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his free arm.

Just breathe. Deep breaths. Peter is physical and real and he can feel -- he's still here, he can feel the cold and the pain in his hands and that's good. It's real. He doesn't speak again for a while, but his breathing slows and he seems to start to calm down.]

[Peter doesn't say anything about the tears. In fact, the fact they're there makes him rage and seethe at this place. Stephen didn't seem like a guy that would cry in front of other people at all, even involuntarily. Whatever happened to him in there...Peter wanted to go back to that invisible building and tear it down, piece by invisible piece.

But he can't. So he does what he can and stands there for him. He wants to pay him on the back of something, but he knows how people can react badly after traumatic events. He breathes deep with him anyway, maybe it would help.

He takes out his Zune and plays a song at top volume. It's probably not very loud out here, but it's music at least. Boogie Wonderland , by Earth Wind and Fire plays.]

[Stephen drops his head, eyes on the snow in front of them, as he comes back to himself and shame starts to replace the fear. He sniffs and swipes at his face again, and finally his grip on Peter's jacket loosens and he lets his arm drop as he looks up again.]

...You're wasting battery again.

[There's no fire in it, though.]

[log] Disappear [closed]

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cw ptsd

cw ptsd

cw panic attack

cw panic attack

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cw panic attack

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cw panic attack

cw panic attack

cw panic attack

cw panic attack

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