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The Casualty; [Ask First, also works as a single post.]
Topic Started: Jan 15 2017, 03:56 PM (291 Views)
Czernobog
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Best Influence.
It was waking up.

Atsuko could feel the thing stirring in the back of her mind. It had been happening more and more and more, and she made a small whining noise in her throat whenever it did. A reflexive expression of fear more befitting a whipped dog than someone who had engaged in horrific violence against things that looked like people. Ex-humans who had turned her into one of them.

She was still chemically the same, she had discovered. It had been easy enough to steal a prescription pad and do a bit of research, but it had taken a bit of time to get the dosage of the antipsychotics right. She had gone too hard at first, and hadn't been able to function. She had felt like she was playing a poorly-designed game at first, with an avatar she couldn't make function properly: walking into things and unable to function properly.

Then she had gone too soft and could feel the spirit in her head slithering across the back of her mind. A being of pure Id that instinctively lashed out in violence at anything that caused it the least irritation, and the threshold for that was set so low that homeopathic levels of inconvenience made it froth and rage, albeing muffled.

It had taken her weeks to find the right level, but in the meantime her muscles began to spasm and she had gained weight. She had been overweight before, but she had worked to get rid of it. Now she couldn't. It just wouldn't leave and the muscle spasms made it impossible to try, anyway.

She didn't risk going off the drugs for months. Her former comrades didn't respond to her. They had shifted their cypher and then cut her out of the group text. She was adrift, conscious -- barely -- of a secret war going on and unable to do anything about it because she had been compromised.

Her life was in shambles, now. The one solace had been that the thing was sleeping. Now it woke her up by crying out in the night, it had a name, but that was how she thought about it: the Thing that Cries in the Night. Not weeping, not sobbing, but raging and gibbering into the dark about revenge and balancing the scales. Its voice ranted at her a dark and distorted mirror of her own desires.

In the meantime, she had tried to get her life in order. Parred down her jobs and kept out of the way of everyone she could, but in every pair of eyes she saw at the counter for her current job -- working the register at a chain coffee shop in the mall, a business that was off the main concourse and was slowly dying from lack of foot trafic -- she couldn't help but wonder if there was a spark of recognition, or if there should be a spark of recognition, if one of these people who came up to her was someone who she should know, who she had fought alongside or against, tried to kill her or who she had tried to kill.

She stood behind the counter, staring into space, trying to ignore the slithering darkness in her skull. She wanted to be free of it, but there was no way to do that.

Her mouth felt dry. She wanted to weep. Her life had been stolen from her three times now -- first she had shattered under the weight of college; then her boyfriend had died in the park, killed by monsters in broad daylight; then those same monsters had abducted her and turned her in to one of them -- and this faded shadow of a shadow of a shadow that she had left was driving her mad.

And it would be ripped away soon enough, because the Thing that Cries in the Night was waking up. The drugs weren't keeping it at bay.

All she could do, though, was stand behind the counter in mute horror as she felt it move around in her mind.
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Wagoo

"You sure you should have had that, Mom? Last time, it didn't go over well with your stomach."

"I'll be fine, Ren. That was due to the way the pork was cooked that time, not the sauce. Want me to go get a table and you get the drinks?"

"You're sure, Mom?"

"I am sure. Go on. Get the cream and two sugars for me, please."

"Alright then, cream and two sugars."

Ren's mother had taken the boy out to the mall today to buy some newer clothes, courtesy of his current state getting a tad stained and messy, with no amount of detergent capable of getting it out. Ren, for his part, had snuck off to an Internet café to read and take screenshots of Bedlam the night before, but though both his parents had inquired why he looked far more tired now, coffee had been his best ally in seeming totally awake otherwise. So when Mrs. Taira offered to get some coffee, Ren agreed readily, hoping another dose of caffeine would keep him going.

He got in line, looking about. There was one person ahead, but other than that, it seemed mostly empty. Ren saw his mother sit down, but her eyes remained focused on her son like a hawk. Ren looked forward, sighing at this. On one hand, he understood his parents watching over him due to the 'kidnapping'. On the other hand, their diligent watchfulness was making it difficult for Ren to learn things on his own, and all his research was confined to Bedlam.

But for now, a cup of coffee would do.

If you wish to relax, I recommend some form of wine. It is far more effective than what you consume.

Aesop, please, you know that I need this stuff. How else am I supposed to be able to focus and learn?

Sadly, you have a point. Though I'd advocate sleeping where you can, there really isn't all that often where you are able. Your nation's education system truly feels... rigorous in my views. Let me at least come up with another way to leave you feeling as if you'd not been rammed by an oxen.

I'm fine with that. I hope it's a good one. Then Ren looked forward again, after surveying the coffee shop. He saw it was his turn, and stepped forward.

"A standard cup, cream and two sugars," Ren started off, a Tokyo dialect replacing the Okinawan accent he used with his mother. "What's... yourh strongest?" he asked.

The lady in front of Ren seemed to be very tired, and very miserable. Ren wasn't sure if he should be classified as miserable yet, but he certainly understood what it was like being drained and tired. Ren blinked slowly at this, and his request took a detour back to Okinawan briefly as the lady's face caught him off guard. He then shook his head; whatever her problems were, they were more mundane than his. "I'm, ehm, guessing it's black?" he added, trying to brush off his brief halt in communication, his Tokyo dialect returning once again.
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Czernobog
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Best Influence.
Atsuko shook herself out of her fog and looked at the teenager who had spoken to her. The first few words came to her as if out of an echo chamber, then everything slid into focus. The thing that cries in the night slammed against the walls of the chemical cage she had locked it in. It frothed wordlessly and then calmed down as Atsuko squinted at the young man.

"It depends on the roast," she said, her voice coming out mechanically. "Dark roast has stronger flavor. Light roast has more caffeine."

She tried to focus on the kid, and figure out what his deal was. He looked really nervous and kind of sick. Like a lot of people in Nagashima, he was weirdly tall and there was something weird going on with his way of speech, but she wasn't able to easily parse the exact nature of his speech. Weird accent hiding beneath Tokyo-Ben.

"You . . . uh, you actually want it black?" she asked.
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Wagoo

Ren appeared to be mulling over his decision. He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, looking about the coffee shop in the process. He eventually did turn his head around, adding an "Um," briefly, to make it sound casual. Confirming that his mother was still watching him, he turned back to the worn out lady.

"Well, you see, I'm looking for something that'll keep me up for at least two or three hours. You have anything that lasts that long?"
His tone came out unsure; even Aesop was groaning at how detailed he wanted his order. "I understand if you don't have anything like that though, of course! I'll just take whatever has the most caffeine then." The boy offered a smile, but either it was fake and insincere, or it was really, really stupid looking. Either way, he clearly seemed unease about something.
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Czernobog
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Atsuko wordlessly got him a small to-go cup, and began to fill it from the air port. She paused, and stared at it for a moment, as if uncomprehending. Realizing that he had asked for a "standard cup" which said nothing about to-go or for here, and which was definitely not the small, she set the small cup down to the side. She would recover it later, and deal with it then. She looked around, almost as if she was lost, and then picked up an off-white ceramic mug. Not off-white. Eggshell? She could think of the pantone, but not the name of it.

Immediately upon setting down the to-go cup, she forgot about it. It slid into the fog that had enveloped almost everything in her world.

She shook her head and filled it with light roast coffee, set it down on the counter, and gestured to indicate the small sideboard where there was a small pitcher of creamer and packs of sugar.

After a second, she rocked forward into motion, remembering that she had to ring him up. She paused.

"Wait. If you want more caffeine, I can get you espresso. I mean, I'm not the best with the espresso machine, but I can do that. Otherwise, It'll be 250 yen."
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Wagoo

Ren observed as the lady got to work on his mother's coffee. She seemed as if she was very tired or very distracted, as if someone really needed a good night's sleep, but hadn't for one reason or another. He did sometimes try to avoid make it seem like he was staring though- a glance to his right, turning around to his left to look in the direction of a noise that definitely did not exist. It also gave him an excuse to keep an eye on his mother.

Sure enough, Mrs. Taira was watching Ren intently, like a CCTV camera on a known felon. But she was at least out of hearing range, and that was all he needed. So when she called Ren up, he walked up to her, trying to put on the calmest friendly face he could. "Ah, thanks for pointing it out," he stated, giving a brief nod.

Then the lady spoke up about needing the espresso machine, and though Ren was disappointed, he gave her the best understanding expression he could. No, it's alright, I'll just take a second one of what I already ordered. We all have days where we just want to collapse and can't for one reason or another... I suppose." He shifted around his feet, and Ren's left foot began tapping aplenty. He also wore the expression people got when they were trying hard not to remember something- and the Shadow that had nearly killed him and Ryou was definitely not something he wanted to dwell on (though Aesop thought otherwise).

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Czernobog
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She took a deep breath, and started to fulfill the request. She felt the Thing that Cries in the Night stir in her head, and it reached out into the world. When she lifted the cup, only the top half of it came away. It was bisected horizontally, leaving a top and a bottom half. The cut was smooth at first, but she could see cracks spreading out from the cut.

The only possible reaction that she could have was a sharp intake of breath.

"That...that's unusual," she said.

Atsuko grabbed another mug and then filled it up, and handed it over.

"500 yen for the two," she said, not looking at the boy, but also not blinking. She stared intently at nothing in particular, off to the right and a bit below eye level.
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Wagoo

Ren sighed, looking at his phone. How he was able to coincide his family's change in SIM cards when he needed it, the boy didn't know. But for now, they had indeed prevented Ryou from tracking down again. He let out a slight relieved smile at this. Knowing how to reach someone when they didn't know how to reach you felt a tad empowering. Aesop was inclined to agree with him.

The lady at the register spoke up, and Ren turned towards her. He offered an inquisitive gaze and a confused face at the half a mug. "What happened there? A defective mug from the factory?" he offered. But the cut also had cracks.

This was no factory error. She broke it with her own two hands.

Either the factory error was how brittle it was, or she could really work out.

Or she has... abilities, Aesop offered. He clearly thought he was right, going by the tone of assuredness in his voice.

Nevertheless, the new mug was offered, and Ren handed over 500 Yen to her. "Thank you for the coffee," he stated.
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Czernobog
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"Must be," Atsuko said. While she felt she was responding quickly, the words probably came out sluggish and thick. It was very, very hard for her to judge, and if the mug split like that -- a line directly through it from side to side (cleave the Thing said) -- maybe the pills weren't working anymore. Or were wearing off. That meant that things were going to go pear-shaped pretty soon when they stopped working completely. It was going to wake up soon.

"You're welcome," she said. She smiled, but she could tell that there was something off about it. Some aspect of the facial expression that she wasn't pulling off convincingly.
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Wagoo

Ren raised an eyebrow in curiosity mixed with definite worry... or was it fear? Not even he knew. This lady was either dealing with a horrendous drug problem (the way her words were traveling through thick mud to get anywhere seemed to be a possible side effect of an addict who needed more), was very much sleepier and stronger than she seemed or....

No. I am not pinning everything weird as down to Personae and Shadows. That is just too much of a rabbit hole.

This resolution lasted all of five seconds, when she smiled. That smile felt like the universe went out of its way to smack Ren in the face with his usual actions. It tried to be genuine, but it wasn't fooling who it was directed at. The smile held secrets, and it was only a matter of time before people found out about the secrets.

And Ren, with a disturbed look on his face, had a feeling he knew what this secret was in this case.

He leaned in, offering his own fake smile, hiding his dismay and worry. "I hope that for your sake, your Persona, and possibly Shadow, will sort out their matters and cease your suffering." The tone of his whisper held genuine concern, for what it was worth.
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