alondra. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} stint) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} dunwichgame,@ 2023-08-01 13:11:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, ∙ plot: 007 vecna horror picture show, ◌ inactive: daimon helstrom, ◌ inactive: mercy rivers |
A very long time ago.
Daimon and Mercy
“There’s probably an easier way to make friends than this, isn’t there?”
“There’s probably an easier way to make friends than this, isn’t there?”
Pickman | Low | ⚠ N/A
Mercy sat back in the chair in the lobby, her hands gripped around the armrests like vices. Every person that passed by was a potential threat. Hearing voices was hard. Really hard. She didn’t want to test this theory on Eddie or Roy or anyone that she knew that well. If this was something, she had to do it to someone relatively new to her.
She also needed to make sure she wasn’t going to get her rear handed to her.
She knew that she could talk with it but wasn’t sure how to control it, but if she relaxed just enough in her posture and closed her eyes? That’s when the hearing came. Not in her ears, but in her mind. It was like her imagination was speaking with the kind of other people, but that wasn’t entirely accurate, was it?
She heard footsteps. New ones. Her hands loosened, she took a deep breath and then waited.
“Hello?”
Bag over shoulder, Daimon headed out of his apartment to an afternoon meeting with a student. With everything that had been happening, he was starting to appreciate the glimpses of normalcy the job gave him- even if at times it was too normal. Like Tandy, he needed some way to process what the future held in their shared universe- if it even happened in his or if maybe he was from a different timeline. It could be too much if he let it.
Footsteps stopped in their tracks when the voice broke through to the surface of his mind, instinctively pushing back after what had happened with the sharp noises.
His mind tore forward in response. 'who are you, his internal voice had a sharp and burning quality.
‘Sorry’.
Mercy opened her eyes and looked up at him, biting her lower lip. Concentration could be kept if she kept her hands grounded. It was weird how it worked, the telepathy. She couldn’t eavesdrop, but she could project. It didn’t stop her from trying.
‘I just thought I’d see if it worked, and it does!’. The excitement was palpable. He sounded less so.
Perhaps she picked the wrong target.
Dark blue eyes found the voice on the other end and Mercy grasping her chair. With a sigh, he walked over to her, arms folded across his chest. “What do you mean, you thought you’d see if it worked? How are you doing it?”
Daimon could be overly protective of both himself and those he determined to look after. The cacophony of telepathic noise that had felled Tandy and him while they were walking had been so entirely unpleasant that he couldn’t help but be wary and sharp against anyone who tried to enter his mind. Mercy’s talking felt soft though, not as penetrating as the noise.
Mercy grinned up at Daimon and let go of the chair, crossing her legs at the knee as she answered. “I don’t really know how it works,” she confessed, still unsure exactly what it was. “It happened at the hospital the first time, but I don’t really remember it. I thought it was a dream.”
But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. She couldn’t hear other people, but she could, with enough concentration, talk to them in their heads. Mercy considered the possibility that she was still in the hospital and was so sick that she was hallucinating everything that was happening, but she’d been unable to find the flaws that so many of her dreams had.
“I’m sorry that I picked you. And that I didn’t ask. I just don’t know you well enough to know if you’d fuck with me or not.” Which wasn’t a great defense, now that she heard herself say it aloud.
His eyes flicked over her. “You gained telepathy from the hospital?” While it seemed highly unlikely; how could he even judge in a place like Dunwich? Ever since the prom, he couldn’t put anything beyond the place. Or the children’s books about his life that he would have rather been something less disturbing like the videos he found of the others.
“Picking a random person is more likely to get you hurt,” he warned. Ever since the incident with Tandy he was wary about it. It seemed more targeted than random people in random places, but no one really talked about it afterward to pinpoint how they were all targeted psychically. And if he had anything in the range of telepathy, it might have a bite back like everything else from his dad.
“Not the hospital itself,” she explained, learning toward him. Her hands were out in front of her as she prepared to divulge him in the details. “So, I don’t know if you’ve heard about the Angel Fever, that’s fine, but I guess I got really sick. Really, really sick. I had a bad fever and the night before I left I crashed out and when I woke up there was an angel there.” “I know it sounds crazy, and I don’t really understand what’s happening, but I’m not contagious and this only started a few days ago, so I don’t really know what to do with it, and I can’t figure out how to work it.”
Mercy was the queen of rambling. She could ramble her way up a mountain. As she looked at Daimon, her eyes were wide and her slight panic was apparent. “Do you know something about it? Or did you just talk in your head and I heard it?”
"An angel?" He questioned. "Like Aziraphale?" That was the only angel he knew in the town or could sense at the very least.
Looking her over, he quirked a brow. "Even if you were contagious. I don't get sick." Not from earth- born illnesses. But she didn't need to know that. Daimon wasn't even sure he could get sick from non earth illnesses.
His eyes shifted at her question. "I'm trying to figure that out myself. So you were sick in the hospital and after this fever thing you could talk to people in their heads? Do you hear thoughts too?"
“Not like Aziraphale, and no, I can’t hear thoughts and I’m pretty sure this fever thing doesn’t give a crap about any immunity you have.”
Mercy sighed and rubbed her neck, anxious about the fever and the questions and his glances. She’d gotten used to Eddie’s questions, which left her in the position of having to rapidly adjust her method of thinking in the middle of the conversation.
“I can talk to them. They can talk back to me. That’s it. It’s like a conversation, but I can’t see past that. Kind of annoying.” She raised her eyebrow at him and sighed. “It’s like clearance aisle telepathy.”
Daimon raised a brow at Mercy’s retort. Maybe she was still sick. It also wasn’t like she knew what exactly he was, so he wasn’t going to hold it against her. He also didn’t have a fast paced way of speaking so a single bite at him was not the end of the world. His sister had more venom in her over a lot more traumatic things that were actually his fault.
“Do you need to be taken back to your room?” He asked, with a tilt of his head. “If you are still sick and this is a side-effect, that is.” Sudden telepathy or not, if she had found herself too weak to get up from the chair, he wanted to offer help.
“I’m fine,” she said as she shook her head. “I’m not feeble, I’m just going through some serious mental shit right now and if you think I’m crazy, I’d rather you just leave me to deal with it. I don’t need to sleep more, I’m fine.”
Mercy frowned at him, a mix of frustration and desperation driving her to hit the wall. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, and I’m sorry for getting in your head. Please don’t treat me like I’m weak. I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with me. This isn’t normal, this… Mind stuff.”
Daimon let out a deep sigh and closed the space between them, blue eyes looking her over. “I don’t think you’re crazy. Trust me, I know even the supposed crazy have deeper things going on then we give them credit for.”
He glanced around the empty lobby. “Want to go practice somewhere else? I’ll let you talk in my head. I just prefer a warning after a mental attack that hit multiple people a bit ago.”
Mercy stood up as soon as he asked. “I’ve never been more ready to get the hell out of a space where I don’t know if people can hear me thinking,” she assured him. While she’d normally be fine wine with the confines of Pickman, Mercy absolutely still felt the weight of being in the hospital on her shoulders.
Maybe a tiny break would be okay.
“Where do you want to go? Somewhere away from here? I’d love to just… Not be here. Please.”
“We can just start by walking outside. We could go for a hike, if you’d prefer being outside or go find a bench at the beach to sit at.” He couldn’t entirely relate, his abilities had always been there- whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. Sure, Daimon had pushed them down as a child, but that was honestly more control over them than using them would have been- and maybe his father saw that, which was why he picked Ana as his target, someone easily riled into the frenzy that lay inside of them.
“Or we could go to the college campus. I have an office there if you want a more pirate space that no one should be suddenly showing up in.” Students knew he didn’t exactly have hours, he had an email that they could contact him with to see if he was close by for discussions.
Mercy followed him out the door and agreed on the campus. “Bench sounds fine. I feel like being out in the open is better for me. For this. I get kinda weird about smaller spaces, almost like I can’t think right with the wall around me.”
Like Pickman, which often felt more like a prison than a home.
Mercy kept to herself through most of the walk, her mind focused on not talking. She’d turned to him a few times to say something and answered, but eventually just told him that she was focused on not talking in her head.
It wasn’t until they sat down that she realized how exhausted she was. As she exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding in, Mercy looked over at Daimon and smiled. “There’s probably an easier way to make friends than this, isn’t there?”
She also needed to make sure she wasn’t going to get her rear handed to her.
She knew that she could talk with it but wasn’t sure how to control it, but if she relaxed just enough in her posture and closed her eyes? That’s when the hearing came. Not in her ears, but in her mind. It was like her imagination was speaking with the kind of other people, but that wasn’t entirely accurate, was it?
She heard footsteps. New ones. Her hands loosened, she took a deep breath and then waited.
“Hello?”
Bag over shoulder, Daimon headed out of his apartment to an afternoon meeting with a student. With everything that had been happening, he was starting to appreciate the glimpses of normalcy the job gave him- even if at times it was too normal. Like Tandy, he needed some way to process what the future held in their shared universe- if it even happened in his or if maybe he was from a different timeline. It could be too much if he let it.
Footsteps stopped in their tracks when the voice broke through to the surface of his mind, instinctively pushing back after what had happened with the sharp noises.
His mind tore forward in response. 'who are you, his internal voice had a sharp and burning quality.
‘Sorry’.
Mercy opened her eyes and looked up at him, biting her lower lip. Concentration could be kept if she kept her hands grounded. It was weird how it worked, the telepathy. She couldn’t eavesdrop, but she could project. It didn’t stop her from trying.
‘I just thought I’d see if it worked, and it does!’. The excitement was palpable. He sounded less so.
Perhaps she picked the wrong target.
Dark blue eyes found the voice on the other end and Mercy grasping her chair. With a sigh, he walked over to her, arms folded across his chest. “What do you mean, you thought you’d see if it worked? How are you doing it?”
Daimon could be overly protective of both himself and those he determined to look after. The cacophony of telepathic noise that had felled Tandy and him while they were walking had been so entirely unpleasant that he couldn’t help but be wary and sharp against anyone who tried to enter his mind. Mercy’s talking felt soft though, not as penetrating as the noise.
Mercy grinned up at Daimon and let go of the chair, crossing her legs at the knee as she answered. “I don’t really know how it works,” she confessed, still unsure exactly what it was. “It happened at the hospital the first time, but I don’t really remember it. I thought it was a dream.”
But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. She couldn’t hear other people, but she could, with enough concentration, talk to them in their heads. Mercy considered the possibility that she was still in the hospital and was so sick that she was hallucinating everything that was happening, but she’d been unable to find the flaws that so many of her dreams had.
“I’m sorry that I picked you. And that I didn’t ask. I just don’t know you well enough to know if you’d fuck with me or not.” Which wasn’t a great defense, now that she heard herself say it aloud.
His eyes flicked over her. “You gained telepathy from the hospital?” While it seemed highly unlikely; how could he even judge in a place like Dunwich? Ever since the prom, he couldn’t put anything beyond the place. Or the children’s books about his life that he would have rather been something less disturbing like the videos he found of the others.
“Picking a random person is more likely to get you hurt,” he warned. Ever since the incident with Tandy he was wary about it. It seemed more targeted than random people in random places, but no one really talked about it afterward to pinpoint how they were all targeted psychically. And if he had anything in the range of telepathy, it might have a bite back like everything else from his dad.
“Not the hospital itself,” she explained, learning toward him. Her hands were out in front of her as she prepared to divulge him in the details. “So, I don’t know if you’ve heard about the Angel Fever, that’s fine, but I guess I got really sick. Really, really sick. I had a bad fever and the night before I left I crashed out and when I woke up there was an angel there.” “I know it sounds crazy, and I don’t really understand what’s happening, but I’m not contagious and this only started a few days ago, so I don’t really know what to do with it, and I can’t figure out how to work it.”
Mercy was the queen of rambling. She could ramble her way up a mountain. As she looked at Daimon, her eyes were wide and her slight panic was apparent. “Do you know something about it? Or did you just talk in your head and I heard it?”
"An angel?" He questioned. "Like Aziraphale?" That was the only angel he knew in the town or could sense at the very least.
Looking her over, he quirked a brow. "Even if you were contagious. I don't get sick." Not from earth- born illnesses. But she didn't need to know that. Daimon wasn't even sure he could get sick from non earth illnesses.
His eyes shifted at her question. "I'm trying to figure that out myself. So you were sick in the hospital and after this fever thing you could talk to people in their heads? Do you hear thoughts too?"
“Not like Aziraphale, and no, I can’t hear thoughts and I’m pretty sure this fever thing doesn’t give a crap about any immunity you have.”
Mercy sighed and rubbed her neck, anxious about the fever and the questions and his glances. She’d gotten used to Eddie’s questions, which left her in the position of having to rapidly adjust her method of thinking in the middle of the conversation.
“I can talk to them. They can talk back to me. That’s it. It’s like a conversation, but I can’t see past that. Kind of annoying.” She raised her eyebrow at him and sighed. “It’s like clearance aisle telepathy.”
Daimon raised a brow at Mercy’s retort. Maybe she was still sick. It also wasn’t like she knew what exactly he was, so he wasn’t going to hold it against her. He also didn’t have a fast paced way of speaking so a single bite at him was not the end of the world. His sister had more venom in her over a lot more traumatic things that were actually his fault.
“Do you need to be taken back to your room?” He asked, with a tilt of his head. “If you are still sick and this is a side-effect, that is.” Sudden telepathy or not, if she had found herself too weak to get up from the chair, he wanted to offer help.
“I’m fine,” she said as she shook her head. “I’m not feeble, I’m just going through some serious mental shit right now and if you think I’m crazy, I’d rather you just leave me to deal with it. I don’t need to sleep more, I’m fine.”
Mercy frowned at him, a mix of frustration and desperation driving her to hit the wall. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, and I’m sorry for getting in your head. Please don’t treat me like I’m weak. I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with me. This isn’t normal, this… Mind stuff.”
Daimon let out a deep sigh and closed the space between them, blue eyes looking her over. “I don’t think you’re crazy. Trust me, I know even the supposed crazy have deeper things going on then we give them credit for.”
He glanced around the empty lobby. “Want to go practice somewhere else? I’ll let you talk in my head. I just prefer a warning after a mental attack that hit multiple people a bit ago.”
Mercy stood up as soon as he asked. “I’ve never been more ready to get the hell out of a space where I don’t know if people can hear me thinking,” she assured him. While she’d normally be fine wine with the confines of Pickman, Mercy absolutely still felt the weight of being in the hospital on her shoulders.
Maybe a tiny break would be okay.
“Where do you want to go? Somewhere away from here? I’d love to just… Not be here. Please.”
“We can just start by walking outside. We could go for a hike, if you’d prefer being outside or go find a bench at the beach to sit at.” He couldn’t entirely relate, his abilities had always been there- whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. Sure, Daimon had pushed them down as a child, but that was honestly more control over them than using them would have been- and maybe his father saw that, which was why he picked Ana as his target, someone easily riled into the frenzy that lay inside of them.
“Or we could go to the college campus. I have an office there if you want a more pirate space that no one should be suddenly showing up in.” Students knew he didn’t exactly have hours, he had an email that they could contact him with to see if he was close by for discussions.
Mercy followed him out the door and agreed on the campus. “Bench sounds fine. I feel like being out in the open is better for me. For this. I get kinda weird about smaller spaces, almost like I can’t think right with the wall around me.”
Like Pickman, which often felt more like a prison than a home.
Mercy kept to herself through most of the walk, her mind focused on not talking. She’d turned to him a few times to say something and answered, but eventually just told him that she was focused on not talking in her head.
It wasn’t until they sat down that she realized how exhausted she was. As she exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding in, Mercy looked over at Daimon and smiled. “There’s probably an easier way to make friends than this, isn’t there?”