tim stoker (withanaxe) wrote in noexits, @ 2021-06-20 20:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, the magicians: eliot waugh, ₴ inactive: timothy stoker, → week 015 (among us) |
Being dead didn’t seem to have many perks. There were a handful of them around now, those who’d been murdered brutally by the dickhead with the moustache, and with no way of telling anyone who was still alive what was happening. Apparently, despite their ghostly appearances, they could still manage to touch the physical. Move small objects and such, but all that seemed to do was spook people and not actually give them any warning. Which sucked, really. It would be so much easier to put this murderous rampage to an end if they could just let someone know. Except why would it ever be that easy? In his little afterlife that seemed to mean being stuck in this plane of existence still, somehow, Dan had been doing his best to keep tabs on Liam. Even if he couldn’t actually protect him, there was still some desire to keep him safe -- which was ridiculous, right? They’d only just met this week. Why should he care so much? All he knew was that he did. Besides, what else was there to do when you were trapped like this? So he followed him around. Not in a creepy way (well, he tried not to be creepy about it), giving Liam his privacy still, but when he was out in the public spaces he stayed nearby. When he was in his room, he stayed in the hallway. When he went to go help move bodies -- oh, right. Well, that sucked and Dan felt like proper shit, knowing there was nothing he could do to comfort him. Still, he kept close. One of the many unfortunate things about this place was that the bathrooms were all shared. There was nothing private about them, except for the stalls themselves, and given the current situation that seemed incredibly unsafe. Still, that was where Liam went and Dan followed, lingering near the door, worried. What would happen if that man came in and Liam was alone? He hated to think about it. The first day had been nice. Strange, sure. Waking up without knowledge of his name was frustrating, but a familiar kind of frustrating. But the company he had discovered on the first day made it all seem unimportant to find out more. That was before the murders. And then the second day Dan never came back to his room, and Liam had wondered about that but didn’t panic until he volunteered to help and… there Dan was. He did his best to take care of the body with dignity and respect. He used magic to clean up the blood, mend his clothes. It still didn’t seem like enough, but Liam wasn’t sure what else to do. Liam had waited until he was alone, or thought he was alone to cry. Nothing dramatic. He thought he was very mature about it. He was supposed to be mature about it, right? The tears had been largely silent and it had only taken him a few minutes to wipe them away. After all, they hadn’t really known each other. After Dan was placed in the walk-in freezer, Liam very specifically avoided taking food from there, instead finding something non-perishable to bring to his room and stay sheltered in place for the rest of the night. Had he known Dan’s ghost was waiting out in the hall for him, he might have reconsidered. On the morning of the third day, Liam did his best to pretend he was fine. He showered and, a move he didn’t think he normally bothered with, brought a supply to give himself a proper shave and remove the days’ growth from his face. He took his time, laying everything out in an orderly fashion because being meticulous and picky about it meant it was easier to ignore his feelings. He did pay any mind to the man with the mustache behind him, entering one of the shower stalls, whistling a happy little tune. Liam had already dressed in a dark blue button up, darker slacks-- appropriately somber but the clothes looked good on him. His hair was pulled back in a hair tie so he could start the process of an intricate skincare routine before cleaning up his face. The problem? The man using the shower was already beginning to fog up Liam’s mirror. How was he going to properly see what he was doing? The light in the bathrooms wasn’t the best to begin with. Liam sulked, it was almost like it was on purpose. He hadn’t been thinking much of it, keeping an eye on the hallway while Liam showered and changed. It was when he saw the man — the arsehole with the moustache — approach the bathroom that Dan felt a surge of panic. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He looked back toward the bathroom and then back toward the man. How was he going to warn Liam? This was bad. This was awful. Dan’s eyes narrowed as the murderer opened the door and he followed him in, trying to do whatever he could to grab at him. To stop him. He wanted to go find someone to help, but if he left, Liam was going to end up murdered too, wasn’t he? Plus the happy little tune the man was whistling was really fucking annoying. He kept his eyes on him until we went into a stall, turning on the shower. Then he looked to Liam who looked… so handsome. And so somber. He wanted to touch him and tell him he was okay, in a sense, but that he needed to leave. Now. For his own safety. “Liam,” he said, trying. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hear him but he had to try. “Liam, go! You need to leave! That man is who is killing everyone!” he yelled, gesturing toward the occupied shower stall. Desperately, he reached for Liam’s wrist, trying to grab it. No luck, but perhaps he’d feel something. Liam felt... If asked later what it was, he would have said nothing. Still, there was a slight tremble, as if he caught a draft of something cold very briefly, and as quickly as it started it was over. “Why the fuck don’t I have a mirror in my own room?” Liam muttered to himself. Of course, he didn’t remember the week their reflections were cursed. He couldn’t have remembered the terror he felt when it was The Monster’s reflection staring back at him from The Seam. The Monster who was so very bored and just wanted to play. He started with the first product and dabbed it on his skin. Liam did admire the different products he had, even if the names and brands were completely alien to him. Galar? Planet Vegas? Were those places or company names? He had no idea. The creature in the stall did not undress. He was waiting. Liam used a small hand towel to try and wipe the steam from his mirror and scowled. He still couldn’t see anything and thanks to the shower going on behind him, the mirror was starting to fog over once again. God dammit. There’d been something there when he tried to grab him. He saw it, the tremble, the pause. But he still couldn’t touch him and that was starting to terrify him, especially as he began to actually start in on the products he had laid out. “No, no, no.” Dan breathed, frustrated, running his hands through his hair as he tried to think. He looked back at the shower stall and then crouched down; had the guy even undressed? There was no way he was actually showering, right? Panic was setting in. Hollering wasn’t going to do anything and neither was trying to touch him. He looked around the bathroom and then at the different things Liam had. Maybe. He moved over to them and crouched, focusing. He needed to channel his energy, right? So he did. Or he tried. It took a few tries, but he managed to budge one of the bottles, sliding it across the small bit of porcelain that it rested on before it teetered and fell. The creature in the stall was whistling again. The further into Liam’s routine, the more vulnerable and distracted he would be. Liam scowled when one of the bottles fell. Thankfully it didn’t break. He paused in his routine and crouched down, picked it up, and placed it back next to the sink a little further from the ledge, to make sure it didn’t fall again. “Oh, come on!” At least he’d managed it, but had it done any good? Nope. Of course not. But if he could touch that, then maybe… Dan’s eyes searched more, then looked back at Liam, before finally settling on the mirror. The mirror that was fogged up. Would he be able to do anything with that? It was worth a shot. Dan sighed, focused. This needed to work. It was really his only remaining chance and the more time that went by, the closer Liam was to certain death. So he dragged his finger tip across the mirror. It didn’t work at first, but then he managed a clean line. “Ah! Yes!” The fog had become so thick on the mirror once more, that Liam reached for the towel again. He was irritated. There wasn’t enough counter space to really spread out, or pamper himself the way he wanted to. That fucking whistling in the stall behind him. How the fuck was he supposed to get anything done here? He nearly wiped the mirror clean before he noticed one perfect clear line-- a small, easily unnoticed line-- in the fog. Liam paused. Put his hand down, and peered at the line in the fog which was also going to fill in if left alone. It was probably nothing. Just a drop of condensation that had formed and dribbled down the mirror into a line. But Liam stared at it just the same. Except then he managed to continue the line, curving it downward, making sure that it wasn’t just a fluke. Nope. He was actually managing this. Maybe this was actually going to work. He moved his finger then and carefully, so, so carefully, began to write letters. First a R. Why was this going to be such a slow process? Fuck. If he was alive, he’d manage to do this in seconds. U came next. He glanced at Liam who was staring at the mirror. He managed a N finally. RUN. Then almost as an afterthought, he added a - and a D. Would he know what he was trying to tell him? Hopefully it wouldn’t fog up too quickly, but it was the best he could do given his circumstance. Liam stared at the words and back at the stall behind him. Who had come in? He turned and stared, wondering if he was a brave man. He had fucking magic and he was warned and shouldn’t someone do something? Fuck. He didn’t run. Liam turned, and while his shoulders were tensed he acted as if nothing were wrong. As if maybe he changed his mind because the mirror was fogged or the lighting wasn’t quite right. He very slowly and deliberately began picking up the different products one by one as Dan’s warning started to fade in the mirror. Liam tried to peer behind him at the shower stall, to see if anyone was about to make a move, but it was hard to see. Products in hand, Liam turned and walked calmly out of the bathroom. The creature wouldn’t be able to see Liam’s expression, how nervous he was. Leaving felt cowardly. He wanted to stay and talk to Dan. Liam safely left the bathroom instead and only perceptibly picked up the pace when he made it to the hall, making it safely back into his room. He dropped his things on the bed and thinking better of it, opened the door back into the hall and quietly called out, “Dan?” He followed him, keeping an eye on the door to the bathroom to make sure they weren’t followed. Dan had managed to keep him protected and now that Liam was back in his room, he felt better. Because being in his room meant he’d be safe. But he still kept his distance, letting Liam have his privacy, and he lingered in the hallway. At least until the door opened again and he heard his name. He knew he couldn’t make the other man hear him — despite what he’d managed to do in the bathroom, his ability to make contact was limited — but he wanted so badly to make him know he was there. “I’m here.” His response was quiet and he stepped forward, reaching up to try and brush his fingers against Liam’s face. Liam stepped back with the door open. It seemed stupid. Dan just told him to run and here he was, opening up the one place that made him safe. His roommate was out, but she seemed nice. He paused, standing there, shivering anxiously-- or had that been a chill-- when Liam realized if Dan was coming in, he had time to enter. Slowly, reluctantly, Liam started to close the door and hoped the spirit of the dead was inside. “I’m so sorry for what happened,” Liam said. His brows knit at the top of his nose and Liam tried to keep his lips tight to avoid frowning. “I shouldn’t have let you go off on your own.” He felt a bit foolish for talking out loud, essentially to himself. How could he really be sure Dan was there? Dan hadn’t figured out how to walk through doors and walls yet — he wasn’t even sure that was something he could do. So he took the chance and moved past him and through the door. It was his first time in the other man’s room and he couldn’t even enjoy it. But at least he was able to be alone with him. Still, he felt heavy. “I’m sorry, too.” He breathed out a breathless sigh and frowned as he looked at him. He just wanted to hug him. But the best he could do was try what he’d done in the bathroom. Dan took a moment and looked around the room. There were some loose papers on the desk. Maybe those would be light enough? He moved over to the desk and tried — once, twice — and then finally managed to push one of the papers enough that it fell cleanly off of the desk and to the floor. Liam turned where he heard one of the papers flutter to the floor. Was it Dan, or was Liam just desperate for it to be Dan? Liam went to the paper itself and picked it up, holding it to his midsection. It felt a little desperate. “You know you could have been a little more selfish,” Liam said. “I could have been a ghost with you.” It was supposed to be a joke, but Liam didn’t know if it really landed or not. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of a violent death, and dying so you could be with someone you’d only met for a day seemed Shakespearean levels dramatic but… He also hated how lonely he felt. Perhaps it was the lack of memories and he had more friends than he thought. “There’s got to be a better way to communicate,” Liam said. He placed the paper back on his desk and went through the desk drawers looking for something that might be useful. “Pfft, like I’d let you get murdered.” Sure, then they’d at least get to be together, but then Liam would be dead too, and… This would be easier if he could pick up a pencil or something. Then he could write. But that was too difficult — he could barely move things let alone actually pick them up. Liam had a better idea. Finding a notebook in the desk-- used by a former Derleth student that used to live in his room and was almost completely blank-- Liam turned the spiral notebook onto a blank page. Taking a pen he wrote two options and circled them: YES and NO. He then tore a small piece of one of the interior pages and drew an arrow. Setting cross legged on the floor, he set his very limited home brewed ouija board on the ground, with the paper arrow at the center of the notebook. “Okay, I’m not just talking to myself out of grief, right? You’re really here?” Liam asked. Dan watched as Liam scrounged around in the desk, doing something with the notebook. That wasn’t going to actually be of any use, was it? Then he saw what he’d managed to do. “Fucking brilliant,” he answered with a grin. “You’re a genius.” Dan chuckled and made his way over to where the other man had sat, sitting opposite him, legs crossed as well. If he could push the paper arrow, then they could communicate well enough, right? However, that question had caught him slightly off guard. Not about him really being there, but about him talking to himself out of grief. He knew he’d been sad, but he was grieving? He stared at him for just a moment before remembering the arrow and, focusing his energies, managed to nudge the tip of the paper toward ‘yes.’ “I’m here.” Liam let out a heavy sigh of relief. His lips smiled but his eyes were sad as if he were confused about what he was really supposed to be feeling. Taking the pen, he added a third option to the sheet of paper that said MAYBE. Setting the pen down, Liam returned the paper arrow to a neutral position. “Are you okay?” Liam asked. He hated to see that look on Liam’s face. The sadness in his eyes. Sure, he hardly knew him, but there was something that had connected between them (or at least he felt that way) and he just wished he could make him happy. Somehow. Which was a stupid though considering he was dead. Fuck. Dan pondered using the new ‘maybe’ option, but it didn’t feel like the right answer. Yes, he was technically okay, but no, he was kind of hating everything about this right now. So he pushed the arrow toward yes first and then slid it carefully back across the paper toward no. Yes and no. “Kind of hard to explain what I mean by that with limited options, but hopefully you get the gist of it,” he mused with a smirk, letting his hand lift away from the arrow then. “Well I was going to call you a liar if you had left the option on yes,” Liam said. He should have asked about the murderer. He should have been asking yes or not questions to try and gauge the killer’s identity. Liam wasn’t a fool. And yet… It was as if something really blocked him from asking more about it. It was easier to be preoccupied with the ghost in front of him. Liam placed the pads of his fingers on his lips thoughtfully. Would anyone believe him if he said he was able to communicate with one of the ghosts? He didn’t want to find out. “Okay, so you can touch or interact with small things. What about possession? So you can… I don’t know? Do something?” Liam asked. That wasn’t really a yes or no question. Well, possession wasn’t something Dan had even considered up until that point and he thought on it. He hadn’t even tried to walk through walls yet, let alone put himself in someone else’s body. There was a pause before he let the arrow move to the ‘maybe’ option, simply because he didn’t know. Though if Liam was going to offer himself up as a test subject, Dan was going to try and pass on that. He didn’t want to do anything that might hurt the other man somehow and possession never exactly seemed safe, both in his world and in anything he’d ever read. Though maybe the real thing, in this world -- wherever it was that they were, was different. Maybe it was safe. With the arrow on the answer, Dan moved to his feet again and curiously walked over to the nearest wall, letting his hand brush at the solid foundation. His fingers disappeared right through it. “Well, that seems stupidly easy.” Then he tested his hand, his arm, up to his shoulder. He couldn’t feel anything on the other side (lack of nerve endings), but he also hadn’t been stopped by the concrete. With that in mind, he moved back over to where Liam was and took a moment, crouching down behind him. He was careful, focused, and put his hand on his shoulder. For a moment it felt like it was just going to go through him but, no. His hand was stopped and he smiled. Would Liam feel that or would he just feel the chill as he had before? When Liam exhaled, he could see his own breath in front of him. The temperature around him seemed to drop twenty or more degrees suddenly and he shivered. He felt that, more obviously than the other attempts at touch. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe possession is out.” He didn’t move, however. Didn’t try and shy away from whatever Dan was trying. The cold was proof Dan was there, and Liam was determined not to push him away for as long as he could tolerate it, if only to reinforce the idea that he was not alone in that room. Liam carefully reached forward and returned the arrow to a neutral position. “I don’t know what to do.” That wasn’t a question. It wasn’t especially helpful. And Dan had no real way to respond to that. Dan was dead. The welcome letter mentioned something about a week, but Liam didn’t know what that meant for them. It was a weirdly bittersweet sort of thing, knowing that Liam could sense him through the cold of his touch, yet he could tell that it made him uncomfortable. The shivering being the giveaway of that, mainly. Yet he didn’t move away and Dan moved his hand from his shoulder to the base of his neck and then down between his shoulders, trying to keep his focus. But the other man was starting to shiver too much. He couldn’t keep this up any longer. “Bollocks,” he sighed and pulled his hand away to move back over to the other side of the paper. His expression was sad -- not that anyone could see it -- and he felt sad. This would just be so much easier if he could write something, or get Liam to hear him somehow. “I don’t know what to do either,” he responded softly. All he could do was touch the arrow. So he leaned forward and managed to turn the arrow around to face Liam. There was really no purpose behind it other than to show him that he was still there, which would just have to be good enough for now. |