redshiftlogs | Where kindness was forgotten

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Where kindness was forgotten | Open

WHO: Cole and anyone game to deal with him
WHAT: Cole goes exploring underwater and doesn't like what he finds
WHEN: Early/mid January
WHERE: The flooded corridor or elsewhere in Anchor
WARNINGS: Cole. Probably distressing topics, will warn as necessary.

Cole didn't tell anyone he was going exploring. He explores all the time, but there's a new bit to explore and people are forgetting, and not like he makes people forget, to smooth over bad moments, but forgetting and having themselves reshaped by it.

He goes down under the water, not breathing because he doesn't really need to. He goes down the end to begin with, where others have been and are going and he drifts about, increasingly uncomfortable with what he finds there, with the trembles and quiet reshaped by those things.

In the search for answers, he picks a door and goes inside, thinking his way to the other side and into stale air and memories.

Minutes later, Cole appears in a burst of smoke and hoarfrost that spirals from his feet. He exists for a moment, already running, wet and covered in a fine layer of freezing water that cracks and falls as he runs.

He doesn't know where he runs. He moves with thought and without it, real one moment, smoke another.

He eventually calms. Whether anyone finds him before that or after that is to fate.

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Genji needs a moment to clear his head, calm his thoughts that are swirling around in a tornado of strange emotions he can't quite grasp at. All he'd wanted was to get those arrows for his brother, and what he'd ended up with was a brother who didn't remember any of that, and didn't remember what he'd done.

It was uncomfortable to dance around it, but not having Hanzo hate him was a nice feeling. Too bad it had taken head trauma or whatever that orb had done to him for it to happen.

Which is why he's so conflicted, heading out to meditate and try to turn the wisps of emotions into something more harmonious, more tranquil. The way he'd practiced.

But then there's something else swirling and mistfilled on the periphery of his vision as he walks, "Cole?"

At least he thinks it's Cole, what brief images he sees running past. Immediately he's on the defensive, wondering if Cole is running from danger, or towards it, "Is something wrong?"

Cole slams against a wall, spinning to put his back to it. He looks different than before. That rosiness is gone from his face, he looks hollow and deathly and pallid, almost corpse like except that his eyes are still bright with life. With fear.

"It slithers, steals, slinks, slips away precious points, presses- Forget, forgotten, face, places, here is all there is, was, will be but the eyes won't stop staring- I'll scratch them out!"

The last is said in an accent not his, clearly mimicking someone else.

Well that answers that question. Something is definitely wrong but looking around Genji can't fathom what. Nothing seems to be chasing him, and if he was headed somewhere he wouldn't have stopped when Genji spoke.

"What does? What is it?" He doesn't recognize the voice he parroting, but what he's saying is alarming enough. Forgetting... is he talking about the orbs? Hanzo seemed to have some sort of concussion after handling them, where he couldn't remember what he'd done to Genji.

Still, first things first, "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

Cole keeps staring at Genji but he doesn't really seem to be seeing him. "Yes. It has him. Be happy. Be content. Forget what makes you unhappy. Forget what hurts. It doesn't help, it just hides, horrible and horrific memories masked, menaces in a murky mire, muddled-"

He shakes his head again. "I don't need saving."

"Forget what makes you unhappy?" That coincides with what he's seen. Maybe. He's not sure he's truly understood anything Cole has said ever, and this seems more convoluted than before. "Are you talking about those glowing orbs downstairs? Or is this something else?"

He's trying to parse this, unsure what exactly to ask to figure out what the problem is, "Did you touch one of them? My brother did and... it did something to him."

Cole nods slowly. "The idiot balls. Be quiet, be happy, be content. No! Don't touch them. Don't touch, it spreads, it wants it all peaceful. Perfect, pristine peace, precariously parsed. I need to find Ben. Warn him."

He looks up at Genji's face. "I can't help this. I can't fix it. Don't touch them. Don't touch people who touch them. Like the lyrium, it leeches and licks." And he teleports to a doorway, eyes wide. "Don't go down there. They're waiting down there. Were, will, was, will be-"

A shake of the head and he flickers on.

"Okay. I .. won't?" Though he had touched them, they just hadn't done anything. At least the fact that he's always in his armor seems to be keeping him protected from whatever it is Cole is talking about.

He doesn't know what Lyrium is but he understands enough to realize that this is passed from person to person somehow, and that it's bad and making people forgetful. That's more than enough for him to be very, very concerned.

"Hanzo."

He shouldn't have left him. Turning he runs back to his room to check on him, make sure he hasn't gotten worse somehow.

Patch is not all the way down in the flooded area. She's a bit removed, debating a course of action. Weird stuff, way beyond her understanding, and perhaps beyond her ability to handle. She knows that she'll be no help whatsoever with any of the technological issues. She can barely handle her new phone. She's not sure she'd be able to do much with anything she found, not even sure she would know what it was. Of course, that doesn't mean it's not worth trying. Might be smarter to go with someone a little, well, smarter.

An unexpected displacement of air beside her derails that particular train of thought. "Cole?" He looks wild. That's definitely unsettling. "Cole, what happened?"

Cole looks around, eyes wide and pale, cold and pallid and deathlike. "Hate the eyes, hate them, staring, endlessly, come closer, gouge them out, no, don't come near!" He shies back and away. "It's bad. They were bad? Nothing makes sense. Don't touch anyone!"

If Patch understands Cole properly, he's not really alive. He's also not dead. He's not tethered to life and death the way a human would be. He's just Cole. It doesn't make it any easier for her to see him like this.

His assertion to not touch is all that stops her from putting her hands on him, to try and calm him. It halts her mid-reach. "All right. I won't touch you. I promise. It's all right. Just... look here." She puts her hand in the center of her chest. She does her best to project a feeling of calm, of the certainty that it'll be all right, that she'll help him in any way she can.

"You could have it. I could have it. I don't, but I could. Don't touch anyone. They might have it, it might have crept and crawled and cajoled their caution." He hugs himself tightly. "It's not all right. Trapped, it doesn't make sense, nothing makes sense, numbers make sense but we deserved this, our pain and penance and purgatory."

He shakes his head and tries to hide further into the black hoodie.

"Could have what? Cole, please, is there another disease? Are people getting sick again?" The last one was awful, and if it's happening again, they need to get everyone who's been down there into a quarantine as soon as possible. "Please let me help you. If you don't have it, and you can't get it, then it's safe for you and me to touch. Can I take you somewhere quiet?"

"No. Not disease, but contagious, catching, comforting, cold comfort. If you forget your woes, they're not gone, just not troubling you. I could get it. I could forget again. And if I forget, it gets bad. I stop being me if I forget and be something else. Someone else."

All right. Good.

Or rather, not good. Very not good, but information that she can parse.

"All right. There is something down there that is infecting people, and making them forget things. The forgetting is contagious? If they touch someone else?" That is, fuck, that is terrifying, but being informed is a good first step. Can they quarantine for selective amnesia the same way they would for disease? "You don't have it. I haven't been down there yet and no one has touched me all day. Let's go somewhere quiet? Will you let me take you out of the hallway? Please?" If it's passed on by touch, they'll be safer in a place without foot traffic, right?

"I have to let others know. Not near them, but tell them, voice to voice it won't spread, not on sound and sight, not scent or taste but touch and tactile tumbles." He squirms on the spot, physically uncomfortable with the presence of the memories and impressions.

He rubs his eyes. "They watch. Leaning, leering, looking claw them out, come close I'll claw them out! It doesn't make sense."

All right. More information is good and Cole has a point. Not only that, but Patch has something useful to offer. She pulls the phone from her belt and holds it up. "The network. We can warn people there. It reaches everyone quickly. I know you don't like it, but I can do it for you. I can help." She might not be the most tech savvy person ever, but she can use the network. Together they can get this information out there as quickly as possible. "Can you tell me what they look like? What can't we touch? Let's start there."

"The idiot balls. If you touch them, they make you forget, so you're content. And then when you touch someone, they forget. You mustn't forget. The bad things help make us who we are. This is our punishment, the eyes are the punishment, watching us..." He flinches back from where the hidden door was. "They were kept there."

Exploring the full expanse of this place takes some doing. Even delving down into the areas they've been warned against going towards, because what is the first thing anyone does when told that? It's something innate that rebels, that wants to find the boundaries and push. Once they know where they are, then it's safer to settle in.

Of course, the less human side of him paces as if caged regardless. No matter how much space they have to move around in, this is still being trapped. And that quiet anxiety remains contained, for now. They'll worry about the wolf later.

He halts, having thought he heard movement somewhere ahead of him, and Charles cocks his head slightly before slowly approaching. "Hello?" His voice is low, rough and burred from the dust of the road and a not insignificant percentage of his life spent smoking. But it's a kind voice, all the same.

The things that actually draws Cole isn't the voice or the calling. It's the sense of calm and kindness that settles around him, like a warm shawl. The restlessness about his feet that had never known home and the scars across his hands that know violence.

He's more like someone from Thedas than most people and it makes him slow and calm, peeking around the corner of the hallway. He looks deathly and pallid, but his eyes are bright with intelligence. And fear.

A light frost starts to edge from his fingers, but then melts again as his terror fades. "Hello, Charles."

Okay, that's...a little strange. Not the strangest.

"You know me?" It's not suspicious but curious, and he stays where he is for right now. One hand lifts, gently beckons the young man out. It's alright. Whatever he's afraid of, whatever has him cowering behind corners, it's not him. And he means him no harm.

Is that...ice? Maybe it's the cold. People get a little funny if left alone in the cold too long. Get a little dead, if left too long, but he doesn't think there's any danger of that just yet.

"Yes. We never met, but I know you now. We've met so I know you." He doesn't come out from the corner, looking past Charles. "And I can't die. I'm not alive, so I can't die. I can be discorporated. And I can cease being Cole, and Compassion, but not die. But I can be unmade... oh no. No cold. The cold is bad."

The cold means he's having trouble holding onto himself, he knows that. He hugs himself tightly, eyes closing. "Rhys' tears, Ben's smile, Cho's delight, the call of the music and magic, mixing and making miracles..."

He sounds almost feverish, the way the words tumble out of him. Maybe he's not well, and Charles is no healer, but maybe he could get the kid to someone who could look after him.

"Hey. It's okay, you're alright. It's gonna be fine," he says, taking a few cautious steps forward, hoping the pale young man doesn't panic and bolt in the state he's in. "Those friends of yours? We can go find them, if you want."

He noticed the ice first and stopped to examine it. Where did it come from? It wasn't that cold here. ~~Maybe there's always ice. Maybe here will be frozen soon.~~ It takes him a few moments to realize the ice is connected to a figure. To a person running.

Well sometimes a person, since they seem to be phasing in and out of existance. Now that's interesting. He pulls a video camera out of his mail bag and follows after Cole, recording what he sees.

Cole stops.

He's being hunted.

He vanishes on instinct, whispering to the world that he walks in the waits, in the moments between moments. He stays still and quiet, watching for the predator that is behind him.

Is it one of them, in the tubes, looking for explanations?

No. It's human.

Was human?

He creeps closer, keeping himself unnoticeable. Is it touched by the things down there?

~~He's been touched by something, but its nothing here.~~

He stops when the figure disappears again. Was it a ghost? Some trick of this place? He looks around for a moment then focuses on his camera to play back the video. Maybe it caught something he missed? Probably not, but it does leave him rather distracted for a few moments.

He's not an Abomination, but he's been... damaged. In his soul. By something not unlike a demon.

He lets himself come back into view, half hidden in a doorway, grey blue eyes near luminous from under his drawn up hood. He's wearing simple sweatpants and a black hoodie that emphasise the paleness of him. "You're not right."

He jumps back when Cole speaks, spinning to face the other man. He switches the camera back to recording and points it directly at Cole.

He shakes his head. He is too right.

"It got in there and messed things up." He glances around them. "It doesn't make sense now. Now we're in here. It scarred you, Brian."

He presses a hand to his head. "They want you to forget. You mustn't. It's awful but it makes you you."

Hm. This person used 'brian,' but he doesn't think he recognizes him. Maybe he just forgot. That's pretty normal...though the rest of what he's saying is odd. How--why does he know thse things?

Words appear in the air before him.
ⓍperatⓍr changed scar red
yes

whois
t h e y

whoare
y o u ?

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Where kindness was forgotten | Open

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