05 - The Right Words Just Won't Come

[spitefulvitae]

[Action A - Around Town, early evening]

[Having been dissolved on her way out of the horrible carnival-town, Natalie had consequences to face. For the last week, she's been droned. A drone that somehow subconsiously knows that she can only come out and do her motherly duties in the evening, but that was easy enough to play off in idle conversation as "you know how my skin just burns right up in the sunshine, ha ha" and all the drones involved would smile and nod. She still seems, physically, dead and cold and unpleasant, but upstairs? Nothing but drone-fluff.

Until tonight. Tonight she may still have a grin plastered on her face and the wrong kind of tone to her voice, but her actions seem just about normal. She's checking the mail and cheerfully opening two little envelopes that were addressed to her. She's doing a bit of shopping at Bodine Clothes. She's strolling through the park. She's randomly snatching a drone off the sidewalk, ducking behind a bush, and draining it dry. Pretty usual things for her. But... well...]

You must tell me your recipe for apple pie!

[...it's a bit out of context.]

Isn't my darling husband such a dreamboat?

[Frankly, this drone seems to be going nuts. There's a good chance that if she sees you, she'll grab you, her posture shouting panic but her lips spouting nothing but pleasantries.]

What a lovely day in Mayfield it is!

[Phone, late evening]

...This has been a profoundly fucked up day. I... would like to possibly apologize to anyone that I might have... disturbed by my complete inability to make sense.

Is that supposed to happen? I'm not sure that whatever that was, it was supposed to happen... some wires must've gotten crossed...

I think I've been out of it for a bit. Have I missed anything...?

Comments

action;

[cueball]

[He recognizes the voice, though it be consumed by drone rhetoric. Natalie. The woman he found in the fun house and then walked in the direction to his death with. He knows she ran off to leave him to die, but he doesn't hold spite. He would do the same thing in her position.

He nods his head once when she speaks to him. This obviously isn't how she would normally talk.]

Been droned, haven't you?

[spitefulvitae]

[She hears Scratch's voice before she sees him, and her body language is full of tense surprise. There's still a drone-like smile plastered on her face, though.]

Hello, dear! Can I borrow a cup of sugar?

[Then she gives her head a shake. And crosses her arms over her chest. She wouldn't blame him if he held some ill will for her just sort of running out on him when the going got lethal. Maybe he's just waiting to express it.]

[cueball]

[He snickers a little at her obvious plight.]

Not fully droned I see. I don't have any sugar on me and unfortunately there isn't a lot I can do to help. It should pass away soon.

[spitefulvitae]

[She quirks one hip and tilts her head, and is struggling to move her expression into one of cautious curiosity. It's not working that well. It just looks uncomfortable.]

Isn't my darling - droned? We can be partially dr - a dreamboat?

[cueball]

Upon revival, there have been cases like yours. You keep conscious mind, but you cannot always control what comes out of your mouth. It should go away with time like any other droning.

[spitefulvitae]

[Her arms drop limply to her sides. Well, there's an answer to her question. How nice. What a reasonable person Scratch is! Much more clued in than the rest of the assholes she's been running into today.]

It can't go aw - lucky to have such a lov - you're well-informed. Thank you!

[Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and all that...]

[cueball]

I think you missed a couple words. [He shrugs his shoulders.] It should go away eventually, but until then you'll have to withstand it. The faulty revival systems that were broken early in the year means there are a few hiccups that come along with dying.

[spitefulvitae]

Have you seen the - faulty systems. I've been tol - in the shops? Isn't - know this was something that could happen.

[That was a surprisingly long string of words. She brings a hand to the side of her face, fingertips resting lightly there.]

I... think....

Silly me, I've... no. No.

[Her efforts to shake it off finally seem to be working. Her expression is a frustrated grimace, bearing fangs.]

[cueball]

[He can't help but chuckle a little.]

Temper. Keep fighting it and see how much you can break out.

[spitefulvitae]

I don't care what - enough, that's enough, THAT'S ENOUGH!

[She shakes her head, stomps her feet, swipes at the air, and maintains a frustrated scream for an encouragingly long time. It's not interrupted by any invasive language. And once that's out of her system, she passes a hand over her face to try and calm herself down.]

I... think that's... it...?

[Although she's still not completely convinced.]

[cueball]

...Well, that is one way to snap yourself out. If it lasts. How do you feel?

[spitefulvitae]

If it works, then it works.

[There's still a growl to her tone and a not-quite-human-ness to her posture. But she's quickly getting a grip on herself and stuffing it all back down. She straightens. She clears her throat. And when she speaks again, it's softer and somewhat sweeter.]

I feel normal. Pretty much normal. Mayfield-normal.

[cueball]

Normal is good. At least you aren't asking me for sugar anymore. Think you can manage without snapping out of normalcy?

Aaaand Live, from Really Late Backtag Land!

[spitefulvitae]

I have to wonder what I'd be doing with all that sugar. Baking more cakes? [She snorts.]

I think I'll manage. I think I'll be alright.

...was your revival this unpleasant? [Might as well address the issue now.]

My hometown forever.

[cueball]

My revival did not include droning. But I did have a heavy ghost wound around the area [he points to the right side of his head] where the axe hit me. So even after returning I felt the same pain from the axe. You got lucky to escape safely.

[spitefulvitae]

A ghost wound...? [She's looking quite closely at his head. No, nothing there...] So the feeling was lingering? Is that it?

I was lucky to get out of there. I wasn't lucky enough to escape when a way out finally appeared. I fell into the fog and I think I dissolved.

[cueball]

Yes. As if the axe never left my head.

[He says with no particular emotion behind it. Like how someone generally announces the weather.]

I see. That place was a trap. One that Mayfield could not seem to keep intact. Death is common here generally. They do not intend on keeping us permanently dead.

[spitefulvitae]

And... how long did that last for? [It's not quite sympathy or concern that she's showing. It's more that she's trying to imagine how horrible that would be, and not liking her imaginings.]

A trap, but a trap that might have had useful information in it. Another woman and I found some newspaper clippings... though they're sort of silly.

[She shrugs.]

I've heard that death is common. I'll be better prepared for the next time, then, hmm?

[cueball]

A week. It waned over time, much like any wound would. The systems in revival have been flawed since January, after someone damaged the main area, but I did not expect it to be so badly damaged.

[He nods.]

Death is common, but only to those who look for it. This was my first death in Mayfield and I have been trapped here since May of last year.

[spitefulvitae]

I've heard about that. That's still surprisingly merciful, even if there's side effects.

[She mirrors his nod.]

No risk, no reward. If we're ever going to get out of here, there's going to be some facing death. Although I congratulate you on being able to dodge it so long? You seem like the kind of man that knows when to step away from a bad situation.

[cueball]

Knowing when to abandon something that is fruitless is simply something anyone with common sense should have. A place like Mayfield has no need for heroics or foolish risk taking without evaluation of possible rewards.

[He snerks a little.]

I congratulate you on the same then. Knowing to run away without helping me was a smart move.

[Even if it ended with his death, he doesn't remark her actions with spite or anger. He means what he means - her actions were wise.]

[spitefulvitae]

Does any place have a need for stupid heroics?

[She can be smirky, too. And then a little curious at his congratulations. What kind of cold blooded person was Scratch? One that she could respect, certainly.]

You took an axe to the anatomy. I couldn't have helped you.

[She shrugs in a casual fashion. Let him think she exhibited calm self-interest, and not blinding fucking terror. Better to be seen as cold-blooded too, than cowardly.]