july 2019. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: First Introductory Mingle
When: The Month of July 2019
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.

Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.

a. bot party.

A few hours after the first arrivals, odd noises start to filter up from the pavilion and park at the base of the city. Limp whistles, the gunfire pop of small fireworks, and music from what sounds like a broken kazoo. It seems as though the still-functioning robots of Anchor are trying to welcome their new human overlords, based on programming that hasn't been exercised in... uh, shall we say "a while"?

Three of them have formed a tiny off-key band playing unfamiliar tunes from crackling speakers. One of the three punctuates the music at odd moments by smashing together a pair of cymbals that seem to have been constructed from a flattened pot and a trash can lid. Two others man the refreshments table. Some of the food looks downright inedible, but there are piles of wild berries from the upper floors. Raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, strawberries. Apples and cherries. Fruits that shouldn't be in season together but somehow still are. There's a strange and vaguely triangular pastry that tastes like hot cinnamon candy. There are piles of vegetables, too, though the only preparation they've had is to be washed and dumped in baskets.

One of the chef bots has put some work in, though, and there are a couple of stews and soups available for the adventurous. All of them are made with the raw ingredients available to eat on the tables. One of them even has meat in it, though that's best consumed by people with very hardy stomachs.

At the end of the refreshment table is a cluster of fresh-pressed juices and unlabeled alcohol bottles, with uneven stacks of cups stationed around them. (Careful, some of the cups are cracked.) Even the good old bar bot is doing his part, pouring out glasses of orange juice and straight shots of tequila. A very generous compromise in place of his usual tequila sunrises. Right? Right.

The most conspicuous robot is the one setting off fireworks. It’s already blown off one six-fingered hand, but by god that hasn’t stopped it. With every small cluster of colorful explosives, the thing throws back its chunky head and gives a sound that can only be described as a metallic cackle.

Might want to watch that guy.

b. life signs in the wasteland.

In the wee hours of the morning after the robots' attempted welcome, the impacts against the dome overhead start. Meteorites, some of them as large as a person's head, bombard the shield and the area around for miles. The alarms that start throughout the colony are enough to wake anyone up, if the thunderous noise of the cosmic storm wasn't enough to do it.

And the alarms aren't for the meteorites. The red shift is rising up around the colony, that phenomenon that no one from the past had the foresight to give more than vague warnings about. New residents who have done some digging will know exactly what’s going on, but for those who’ve avoided even thinking about what’s happened to them, well. It could be a nasty surprise.

Anyone sensible would stay inside with all of that going on, but there's something else: life signs. The communication devices given to residents on arrival light up, indicating the presence of no less than five flecks of life out there in the wastes. Odds are good that at least a few of them are monsters from other worlds, or twisted radioactive creatures warped by the planet itself. But one of them is very human, and has been here for a very long time.

Should residents venture out to investigate these life signs, they’ll find the farthest one to be a man in protective gear, flickering like a badly received signal. As the red shift starts to fade, he solidifies, and as the shift finally dies away, he wrenches off his helmet with one hand and falls to his knees. He's as twisted as the creatures the planet has corrupted, one eye socket nothing but a depression sealed by flesh. His lips on that side curves sharply upward, barely hiding teeth too sharp and long for a human mouth. It's clear now while he pulled off his helmet with one hand--the other is a wreck, a blackened stony mass sealed to the cuff of his radiation suit.

He can hear you coming, if you're brave enough to approach. He can hear you coming, and will turn his one orange-irised eye to watch you until you speak.

c. hairy repairs.

Welcome to Anchor, where sometimes you're the only thing between you and the catastrophic failure of life support systems. After the red shift ends, the radioactivity warning alarms will at least fall silent. The cosmic storm has passed, and for a little while there's quiet under the dome.

But those exploring the upper reaches of the city might hear new alarms, much softer and less insistent than the radiation alarms. They're coming from one of the survey rooms near the garage and the exits to the surface. It might take a little doing to pull up the screens triggering the alarms, but you'll be glad you put in the work. It turns out, those meteorites damaged several of the exterior sensors and one of the major radiation and light transfer panels that help keep anchor supplied with energy--and help keep the shield dome in good working order.

While the damage is easy to see and isn't too hard to fix for those with some technical know-how, there are life signs moving slowly closer to the colony. It's quite possible to fix the damage and get back inside before those life signs arrive, but there's also the risk of being caught in the open and facing down some of the planet's native creatures.

In this case, they're large, furry millipede-like creatures no less than seven feet long. They're perfectly harmless, if you don't count the fact that they seem intent on trying to eat the protective gear and tools you've brought out onto the surface with you. It's not their fault that your arms are inside those delicious radiation suits.

d. shadows of the past.

A few days of genuine quiet follow the fixing of the exterior damage. Time to explore, to get lost, to drink more than your doctor might recommend at the colony's only serviceable bar. Enough time to feel the weight of Anchor's emptiness.

The next time you walk into the bar, there's a see-through stranger at the pool table, smiling warmly in welcome. "Want a game?"

Get too close, and he disappears. But he was there--he was clearly there. The cue he was holding clatters to the ground and rolls over to rest at your feet.

Down in the pavilion, there are children playing in the park. Throwing balls, playing tag, their laughs echoing somehow in the open air. Invisible parents call for them to be careful or slow down. Now and then one of them will vanish midstep, only to appear again back where they were ten minutes ago and start their run through the park all over again. They can see you. One or two might even invite you to join their games, taking your hand in their own, leading you toward their fellows. And when they do, you can hear their parents' voices exclaiming in shock. A rush of shadows scoop up these phantom children and whisk them away into some invisible world where you can't follow, only hear the children crying in fear.

All around the colony, shades appear and vanish, some solid enough to touch, some just barely visible. Some are inexplicably aggressive, attacking anyone who tries to talk to them or get too close. Just as many run screaming or sobbing at the sight of you.

But there are others, too, who seem to recognize you. One of these is a young woman holding a gun like she has no idea how to use it. When approached, she almost starts to cry. "Oh, thank god. We have to get the kids to quarantine. We have to get them into lockdown. Those bastards-- Those sons of bitches-- The kids should at least have a chance."

She starts to turn, and a laser blast rips through her, lancing across the wall right where a deep score mark still exists, not in the least ghostly or unreal. If you touch it now, it feels warm.

e. ping from the rubble.

As though the presence of past residents sets it off, a persistent signal begins to broadcast from the collapsed library. It turns out there's a section not buried quite as deeply as the rest. A row of broken terminals, ending with the one sending the signal. A warning signal about the structural integrity of the library complex and the need to back up crucial data. Too little, too late, but with time and patience some of the partial files on the terminal could be reconstructed....

For those less versed in computers, there's a mysterious door just past the terminals, partially blocked off by rubble. If that can be cleared, the door leads into a dusty room with more broken terminals, but beyond that, there's a small library of real hardcover and paperback books, with comfortable chairs (some of them needing TLC), low tables, and lights (currently broken). The books are in a variety of languages, both Earth-based and alien. A flickering "skylight" at the top of the room shows a blue sky flanked by swaying trees, or a thunderstorm, or other, stranger but still friendly skies. It blinks off, sometimes, but seems determined to keep playing its peaceful scenes for those below. With some cleaning up, this could be a good retreat from the sometimes oppressive emptiness of Anchor.

Navigation.

Comments

[deadlycurves]

For once, the reason for his disbelief is not shaped at all like a question of exactly how high Klaus might be and instead is more-- "No, I don't-- get it. Where were you? Because... you were with me, before. And we were...definitely not in a robot jungle war..." Those last three words still get some dubious tint to them, but... really. It's less outright disbelief and more confusion than anything at this point. He knows 'other worlds' exist-- everything in Nonah, and so far in this place, is proof enough to that-- but the idea that one person could somehow exist in multiples of those worlds is a little above his paygrade.

[substances]

"I wasn't with you." he protests almost immediately, "I was by myself. I missed you!"

Klaus is starting to get confused now, and he lifts up his hand to rub at his face again, green eyes a little wide as he looks across at his brother.

"I missed Ben too. I was...really, it was just me. Where were you? It...it wasn't me, that you were with. I was in a place called Hadriel, I know Ben wasn't there, I just I just I..."

The confusion overwhelms him and he makes a little gulp, leaning in a little bit to cross his legs on the bed and rest his elbows on his knees, wincing a little.

[deadlycurves]

"Yes, you were. We were all there, until like a week ago, and Vanya disappeared." Ever-ready on a hairpin trigger for a fight or an argument, Diego's words have a little more snap to them than might be necessary in the moment.

The dizzying wave of confusion is disorienting and he has to brace a hand against the edge of the bed to steady himself. Fuck, he hates this. Whatever those assholes did him, really twisted something up in his head. "I was in a city on North Carolina called Nonah." he finally answers Klaus' earlier question.

[substances]

Klaus can tell Diego is getting irritated with him because their stories aren't matching up, and he makes a frustrated sound in his throat, shaking his head.

"I wasn't. I was in Hadriel, and none of you were there." he says, his voice rising a little, protesting, "And I've never heard of Nonah. Why were you in North Carolina? I was on a whole different planet, Diego."

The pain is still there, every time he moves, and the exhaustion is still clouding up his head, but he ignores it because now he's just confused and a little angry.

"Stop yelling at me, asshole."

[deadlycurves]

"I don't- I don't know how it works, but you were. You were there. I mean- you spent more time in other places, but...you were there." He groans, frustrated. He doesn't have the words to explain it, not really. Five would be able to, but neither of them would probably understand it in the way he would explain it, either. "I'm not," he snaps at the implication. A beat passes and he sighs. "I'm not... trying to, I just... I don't know, okay? But it's true. We were all in this other world and half of us were living in a house together and..." He sighs and braces a hand over his eyes. "It happened, okay? A lot of shit happened, and honestly, I'm still kind of pissed at you for some of the shit you've said, but-- you already OD'd, like, a week or so ago and now you're sitting here telling me you were in some fucking war and none of this makes sense."

[substances]

At first, Klaus is just as frustrated and confused as Diego is, sitting shakily in bed and pushing the blanket down over his lap, expression slightly dazed while his brows furrow. Annoyed that Diego is being so short with him when he hasn't done anything wrong, but not genuinely upset.

Except then Diego says he's pissed at him for some of the stuff he's said, that he had an overdose, and it's like getting slapped in the face. Immediately, a rush of righteous indignation underpinned with an intense hurt wash through Klaus, and he feels his throat go tight. It's so easy to forget, sometimes, when he's missing them, how his siblings can make him feel two inches tall in half a second - especially Ben and Diego, the ones whose opinions he cares about most.

"I didn't say shit to you, I haven't seen you in two months!" he says, voice obviously frustrated, and he lifts his left hand to push back through his hair, expression pinched with anger and hurt, "And I haven't done anything harder than a joint in over two fucking months. Not even alcohol! Whoever you were hanging out with, it wasn't me."

[deadlycurves]

Diego isn't sure what to name whatever he's suddenly being slammed with like a ten-ton brick on top of his chest, but he doesn't like it. The hurt is clear-cut, obvious as the sun shining in the sky, and all he knows is it isn't his, it does not belong to him at all because he has no reason to feel this way. But he still hasn't pieced together the full picture of this thing that's been happening to him since he disappeared-and-reappeared at that godforsaken military base in Florida. Diego's head snaps up at that, frowning deeply at the things his brother is saying. Everything either of them say is completely different from one another and... maybe something is starting to click in Diego's brain. Glacier-slow and uncertain, but maybe. "This alternate timeline-universe bullshit gives me a fucking headache." He rests his head on top of his arms, folded against the mattress, giving a soft groan. The silence that passes is longer than anything that feels like a normal lull in conversation, as he tries to think through all of this, and the fact that Ben is Ben without being the Ben riding motorcycles and chasing a death-wish bucket list in Nevada. In the silence, a distinct humming-buzz has taken up residence in Diego's head. "Fuck," he mumbles. "what is that?" He doesn't realize, yet, that it isn't an external sound, that other people won't ever hear it when he does.

[substances]

Klaus watches as Diego's head snaps up and he groans, comments on the whole alternate timeline alternate universe thing and how it gives him a headache before dropping his head on the mattress and making more misery noises.

Snorting in his throat, Klaus sits back heavily against his pillow, eyes screwed shut, and tries to get his irritation under control. He can't touch the hurt at what feels like Diego assuming the worst of him right off the bat, but the anger he can get under control.

"Well, other-me sounds like a prick. I didn't do those things, so don't take it out on me, Diego." he says, voice a little rough, and he rests his right forearm across his belly, wincing as his body jars slightly and a stab of pain goes through his chest and shoulder.

When Diego asks what 'that' is, Klaus looks around them, brows furrowed. The room is silent, aside from the two of them breathing, and Klaus makes a noise in his throat.

"Nothing? It's just you and me."

[deadlycurves]

"He was." He admits, too easily maybe, but he's still sore about the underhanded comment about Grace that other-Klaus had given him weeks ago now. He tilts his head to look up at Number Four, frowning a little. "How bad is it?" There's a pulsating sense of discomfort thrumming from somewhere and he knows it must be Klaus.

"No, it's- like a buzz... or... hum? I don't know." he frowns and reaches up to wiggle a finger against his ear, like that might help dilute the noise. "It's annoying."

[substances]

Klaus doesn't know much about whatever version of himself Diego had been hanging out with. Some alternate version who picks fights with the only sibling who's consistently given him second chances. And that gets it going in his brain - if that hadn't been this Diego's Klaus, then how is he to know who the siblings he'd grown up with were, compared to these alternates...and that thought hurts his head and his heart so he shoves it down to be examined later when he's alone...or maybe to be talked about to Ben.

But what he does know is that he's missed Diego and he's hurting and he doesn't want to fight with his brother, even if he still feels hurt.

"Here, I'll show you." he says, shifting carefully and pulling off the long-sleeved shirt he's wearing. Underneath, his body is marked up in multiple places with aging bruises, yellow and purple and grey, there are shiny pink cauterized wounds from laser burns and scabs over cuts and scrapes. The most prominent injury is covered with a bandage right now - a neat white square just under the ball of his right shoulder.

"I got hit with a brain scrambling beam and stumbled around. Landed on a branch." he says, voice calm and sort of idle. Leaning his head back, he sighs softly.

"And no, I don't hear it. There aren't even any ghosts in here."

[deadlycurves]

He frowns a little and watches as Klaus tugs the shirt off and the wounds come into a very clear sort of focus. Not that he's never seen his siblings with some pretty wicked marks, but it's been awhile, especially with Klaus. He hadn't been in the middle of any huge battles in... well, Diego wouldn't know the exact number to put to it, if he's completely honest with himself. "Jesus, Klaus..." he mutters quietly. "A brain scrambling beam?" His gaze slides up to Klaus' face again. "What-- are you okay? I mean- I-- that sounds awful and...potentially permanent..." Which is kind of terrifying, when it's stated quite so plainly. He frowns a little when Klaus says he doesn't hear the noise. "Seriously? You're not fucking with me?"

[substances]

Klaus shrugs his left shoulder when Diego breathes his name out like that, and picks up the shirt, wincing a little as he slides it over his head again, hands moving to pull the sleeves down his arms, green eyes locked on his brother across the room.

"Not permanent, but I did get hit with them twice. This was the first one..." he gestures vaguely at his shoulder, and then, "The second one, I got a nasty concussion, just bleeding everywhere, but Drake took care of me..."

His voice trails off at that, and a wave of loneliness washes over him and he tries to tamp it down again, biting his lower lip for just a moment to distract himself.

"Anyway, no, I'm not fucking with you. Robot war."

[deadlycurves]

"Who...?" That's not a name he recognizes at all. This is all getting so much more confusing with every passing second and comment from either one of them. He's at least getting in his head this is not, by any stretch, the same Klaus he'd been seeing and talking to for the last two months. Klaus' loneliness finds its way into Diego's head and chest, and tangles with his own that he's not really yet admitted to since arriving here. Everything feels so different, his family so far away except the two brothers he's found so far-- and yet, they're still not the ones he'd been talking to and he isn't sure how to feel about it. Somehow, it's like that's the only thing he can focus on suddenly, even as he feels Klaus do something that almost seems to lessen the feeling himself. Maybe it's because the feeling only ended up heightening his own to a brighter, clearer level, but he feels it clawing to escape from the center of his chest. Diego drags a hand roughly across the back of his neck, trying to ignore it, to not get lost in it, and keeps telling himself it isn't real. That it's in his head and he's fine. And not alone. Clearly not. Ben is here. Klaus is here. That counts for a lot and is better than being actually alone. But if it's in his head, and it isn't (at least all, or completely) his, it has to be Klaus', too, right? He props his head up, a fist resting gently against his free temple to stare up at his brother for a moment or two. "What's wrong?" The question is hardly the most characteristic of him, but he can't help asking-- that loneliness from Klaus is still so obvious to him.

[substances]

"Oh. Drake. Someone I met in the last...in Hadriel. Where I was before here." Klaus says, his voice soft, and he shrugs his good shoulder again, not looking at Diego, "When I first showed up there, he saved me from some monsters and took me home for a bath and stuff."

Another shrug, and Klaus' head is down a little, he's looking at his own knees, and the wave of loneliness washes over him again, "He helped me get an apartment, then get through the first month of getting clean, which, like...really super sucks."

It occurs to him that Diego asking what's wrong isn't totally normal, but he's a little bit too overwhelmed and exhausted to really try to unpack it right now. Idly, he picks at a thread on the edge of the hospital blanket, eyes a little blurry with tears and exhaustion.

"And we fought together in the stupid fucking robot war."

[deadlycurves]

He listens to Klaus explain who this Drake guy is and he can tell-- in the way he keeps his voice soft, the refusal to really look at him as he speaks, the fidgeting-- that whoever he is, he managed to become important to Klaus in the short time he was in that last place. Hadriel. "He helped you get clean?" Well. The guy gets bonus points for that one, it's the exact opposite of what Klaus' friends back in Jeopardy were doing for him. Providing the drugs and enabling him, instantly slotting themselves onto Diego's shit-list. He'd nearly pummeled Cassidy on more than one occasion even in just the month and a half or so he'd been in that world. He almost can't stop himself, the need to ask even the hardest of questions suddenly just overwhelming. "You're gonna stay that way, right?" His voice is softer than usual, here, too, bordering on something almost desperately hopeful. He knows it won't be easy, that no matter how many days away from the last time he took a hit or shot the temptations would always exist and burn under his skin. But it doesn't mean Klaus can't stick to a decision he's made. For himself, even if Diego hates to admit that; that it wouldn't matter at all if it were for anyone else, because addicts can't put their dependency in someone else's hands. It never works that way-- people disappoint, people screw up, people break trust. The only person anyone can successfully put their addiction and recovery on is themselves. And it kills Diego to know there is nothing he can do to change that, or make the process any easier on his brother. He's too much of a fixer and a doer to sit by idly and watch, but it's all he can do in this case. Sit and watch and hope it could be different this time.

cw: mild suicidal ideation

[substances]

"I mean, I didn't really have a choice there, there was nothing harder than pot and alcohol, but yeah. He helped a lot, really encouraging and said he believed in me and stuff. I might've just offed myself if he hadn't been there."

Another shrug, because he's still feeling that depression that comes with getting clean. He's never really been this clear for this long since he was a kid, even with the pot-smoking, and he'd almost forgotten how bad it gets after, that nagging depression, like life is over and not worth living if there's no drugs in the near future. Like he can't be happy without them and won't ever be happy again.

Pushes that down and takes a deep breath, smiles at his brother again - at least until Diego asks him if he's gonna stay clean. Klaus can almost feel the pills burning in the pocket of his backpack where he stashed them after the robots gave them to him. Guilt mixes in with the loneliness and sadness, because he should've thrown them away, not asked for stronger ones. Shouldn't have stashed both bottles in his backpack.

He picks at the thread on the blanket again, then looks up at Diego, meets his eyes, "I want to."

[deadlycurves]

"Oh..." Forced sobriety was different than a real choice made. The realization of it makes something in his chest tighten and he tries to ignore it. But it doesn't compare to the feeling of ice water filling his lungs when Klaus makes such a casual, off-hand remark about suicide. How easily it might have happened, if he hadn't had someone there for him at the time. "What?" he breathes the word out, barely more than a sigh with some sound attached to it. "Klaus..."

He doesn't actually know what to say to that, how he's supposed to respond, and his gaze drops to the mattress as a frown creases across his forehead. He isn't stupid. He knows that Klaus has been depressed for a long time, him expressing something suicidal? Doesn't surprise him at all. But what crawls its way under his skin is how casual and normal it is to him. Like it's just a fact of life, no different than the weather, or that grass is green. Diego doesn't know what to do with that, except be a little scared of it, somewhere in the back of his mind.

There's a pinprick twinge of something he can't completely name from Klaus suddenly that makes him look back up at that quiet confession and Diego manages a small, quiet sort of smile. The kind that doesn't look happy or reach his eyes, but instead rests sad and resigned on his face. "Good." He nods a little. "Then... we'll make sure it stays that way, yeah? You, me, and Ben."

[substances]

A little flicker of irritation and self-hatred builds up in Klaus when Diego says that 'oh' in a defeated sort of voice, and it feels like confirmation of what Klaus had been thinking - that he has no right to be proud of his sobriety, that it wasn't an achievement because he couldn't have done any kind of hard drug even if he'd wanted to. Gnawing on his lip, he looks down at his legs again and exhales a rough huff of breath.

"I didn't drink though." he says, his voice stubborn, "I could have and people offered it to me, but I get self-destructive when I drink so I stuck with weed..."

He's probably just making it sound even less like he accomplished anything, and the bitterness overtakes him for a moment, he closes his eyes and pulls his knees up, wraps the arm connected to his good shoulder around them, making himself more compact. He can tell that Diego's bothered by something, he can hear it in the way Diego says 'what' and then his name, and Klaus glances up at him. Isn't sure what to say, and so he just lets it float past.

Diego's smile is so sad and resigned when Klaus says he wants to stay sober that it leaves him feeling like he's a hopeless case, he remembers being in his room after they'd saved Allison, after Pogo had told him he was too dirty to help his sister, that feeling of no one believing in him or taking him seriously. He does't blame them, but it sure makes it hard to stick to it, no matter how much he wants to, because feeling worthless just makes him want to escape. It's hard to care about what your siblings think of you when you're floating on Benzos.

The pills in his backpack burn at the back of his mind, but he glances up at his brother, "Yeah. I haven't drank here yet either. And they...probably have morphine and stuff here but I don't want to..."

He gestures vaguely with his hand. Doesn't know how to ask if Diego and Ben will be proud of him if he keeps off it here.

[deadlycurves]

There's that buzz in his ear again. Except... it isn't, not really. He can feel it almost as much as he hears it and it's so annoying, but he refuses to let it distract him out of this conversation right now. He just runs a hand over his ear and across the back of his head and tries to ignore it. "That's good, Klaus. I...I'm glad that you turned it away when it was offered." He hates that he can't say it more direction-- "I'm proud of you."-- but it's as close as he can manage. He's not good with this sort of thing, and he hopes that Klaus can at least hear it in the tone and inflections in his voice. Maybe it wasn't a perfect sobriety, but honestly, if Diego had to choose between letting his brother keep pot in his life or continuing to throw whatever new poison came into his life next to quiet the ghosts that haunted him? He'd gladly vote for the first, every time. He huffs softly, "I think that might be a stretch, honestly." he casts a quick, cursory glance around the room they're in before shrugging a little. "This whole place seems pretty empty, mostly." At least as much of it as he's seen so far.

[substances]

Klaus watches Diego rubbing his hand over his ear and wonders if he's hearing that buzz he mentioned again. Distracted, Klaus glances around the room for the source of whatever's bothering his brother, and doesn't see anything. Not even a ghost, right now, except for the flickering thing that's shattered like a broken mirror in the corner but not making any sound.

Diego is congratulating him for not drinking, and that does something to soothe his bad mood, he perks up a little and exhales, green eyes flicking up to look at his brother and he offers a slight smile.

"Yeah maybe." he says, non-committally, trying not to think about the drugs he has already in his bag, and then he leans back into the pillow a bit, again. Swallowing hard, he looks up at the ceiling, "At least there aren't many ghosts here." he murmurs.

[deadlycurves]

"No?" He tilts his head back to look up at his brother at that remark. "Definitely a line in the pro side of the list, at least." He doesn't know what it's like, of course, but he's seen how that particular power has eaten away at Klaus for decades. He's never been great at dealing with it, arguably never really tried. But Diego's a bit past trying to blame Klaus for not doing whatever he could, to get a grip on the powers that plagued him; he's got a little taste of what something so invasive and unstoppable feels like. Truth is, he doesn't know how to deal with swirl of emotions that keep cramming into his head and chest, how to stop it or slow it down or dull it.

[substances]

"Yeah. I mean, the ones that are here are pretty messed up. But in Hadriel they were giant tentacle snails with their heads blown off, so I'm gonna call it a win." he says, his voice kind of deadpan. Suddenly, he's feeling exhausted again, and he lets his eyes sink shut, sighing deeply.

"Speaking of ghosts though, I uh...practiced with my power while I was there. In Hadriel. Summoned some pretty sweet monster ghosts."

[deadlycurves]

"Uh- yeah. Huh..." he frowns a little. He'd never even really considered the idea that Klaus saw ghosts of not-just-people before. Was it a thing with that place, or had he always also had mutilated and run over dog-ghosts following him around on top of murder victims and the like? The last bit pulls a bit of a surprise from him. "Really?" There's the smallest smile tugging up on corner of his mouth. "Good. The practice, I mean. It's... good to hear, Klaus." He knows this power of his brother's has always been more a plague than a blessing, but maybe some of it is because he never did get any real handle on it. The practice could only make it better, right?