lucetilogs | Chaos Plot Reactions!

Entry tags:

Chaos Plot Reactions!

Who: Anyone/Everyone affected by Helios' nasty bout of Possession Sickness
What: Picking up the pieces
When: August 11th/12th
Where: Wherever there was bad mojo!
Summary: Apep, an Egyptian god of Chaos, possessed Helios and wrecked havoc. Those involved are going to have to cope with their injuries, mental traumas, and newfound night terrors!
Rating: R, for possible trigger warnings for descriptions of violence and bad language.

Nothing is ever easy for them House 46 folks. Gawddamn!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"In addition to the standard reward of an item from home, there are a small selection of devices and rewards the Malnosso provide themselves in return for missions. One of them is this, a small applicable patch. It is meant to render the device on the back of one's neck inert, making it impossible for the droids to automatically track our location. To prevent kidnappings."

[He is rather pointedly not focusing on it or her.]

This....

[She stares down at that little square of black ink. Protection from the droids.]

This is the concern of your own. The motivation you had for going on the mission with Luke.

[Her eyes flick back up to Ben's face, wide with incredulity. Something that was fairly irregular, that happened but the once in all her time here, and that is what he sought to earn with his points. Why he sought the points to begin with.

It could be arrogance to think he intends it for her. But he'd held it, dropped it. Hid it. Who else could he mean to give it to?]

Ben-

[Low rough- a thought that is never voiced because she's no longer here. She's twisting bloody hands in familiar brown fabric, trying to close a ragged wound and failing. His breath gurgles, broken fingers twitch, wrenched limbs locked up and convulsing- broken. Shattered against black rock and she can't put it back together again, can't put his eyes back in his skull and make him look at her and-

She jerks forward with a low gasp, eyes slamming shut, forehead pressed to his shoulder. Swallowing back bile and trying to breathe through the rest of what she saw. Felt. Held in her hands and failed to mend.

Trembling still she reaches out to rest her hands against his ribs, his shoulders and chest, over every inch that had been rent asunder. Whole. Not torn. Not broken and wrenched open like a melon. Just to confirm it for herself. One hand slides up to cup the back of his skull. Round as it should be. Not dented and wrong from a fall. Gently, so very gently turns his head so she could look up into eyes that were exactly where they needed to be. And wept.]

"... I had intended-"

[What he was about to say was cut off by a sudden and overwhelming surge of that same pain and heartache from before, and he braces himself to catch her almost as she falls, his arms folding around her shoulders again in protection as the pain wracks her mind. After a moment, it finally subsides, and he simply looks on, concerned, as she tearfully feels over his torso as if looking for something broken. He doesn't resist when she tries to meet his eyes.

Her darkest fears. Heartache, pain... and a sudden need to assure herself that he was in one piece.

... She had seen him... hurt? Tortured? Killed? Was it only him, or all of her friends and loved ones?

Was it when she saw them, or at random? He can scarcely comprehend the level of hatred and vicious cruelty that would drive one to inflict such visions. At this moment, he isn't concerned with it. Though he hasn't done it for months, except in his faded memories of Levarre, he still finds it almost instinctively easy to gently brush her consciousness with his own, attempting once again to calm her mind and soothe the lingering pains.]

[He's whole. He's safe. He's fine. None of it was real- none of it was ever real and she knew this, but that had been too vivid. Too painful. She'd thought they'd been getting better, lighter, and she's no way of predicting what it is she'll see or how bad it will be until the images have come and gone. She'd give anything for a way to keep it from happening. A way to explain.

All she can do is press her face into Ben's shoulder and cling to him, mind a ragged, weary mess of images she can't keep from him entirely. Memories of what she's seen. Luke. Lupin. Helios. Sabriel. Ben. Gambit and Grune and Doyle and even Stark- twisted. Mangled. Broken. All knotted up and tangled in silence and shadow and the sensation of being deathly cold.

She's terrified, furious, exhausted and strung far too tight for rest.

All she wants is her peace of mind back because like this? She's useless. And Adele knows it.]

[As the images suddenly filter into his mind through the connection, his immediate instinct is to withdraw, to sever the link and close out the thoughts and emotions.

He doesn't. Instead, he simply withstands them, lending her what strength he can as he shares the pain with her. He may not be able to teach her to process this sort of pain, but perhaps, like this, he can help her deal with it nonetheless.

And if not, he doubted she would object to his presence attempting to soothe her mind.]

[It fades as it always does- easier this time than before and for that she has Ben to thank. It doesn't sting, it doesn't ache, there's just the mild migraine that came with rationalizing what she'd seen. It wasn't real.

So long as she can remember that, she'll live.]

...thank you Ben.

[Obi-Wan does not withdraw the mental or physical contact when the pain fades. When he finally speaks, it's quietly, into her hair.]

"... I would be willing to resume our meditative training whenever it is convenient for you. And... I would feel much more comfortable if you would take this label. As a measure of protection."

[It's something they haven't done in some time- not as themselves. It's an embrace that is familiar to Levarre, that had been somewhat familiar before Levarre ever existed. Adele's not certain she should take as much comfort in this as she does. She's also certain that at the moment- she doesn't care.]

I think...I. [She closes her eyes and sighs.] When I can stand to be in the house again I would like to move into forty six. It will be easier to do so then and...I'll keep the label.

"I would be reassured by that."

[... Very reassured. Perhaps surprisingly so.]

"... We must simply take care that our snarky bickering does not drive our housemates mad."