fall in line or release the glitch

[gramarye]

Who: Wolfgang and Will, Shrieky, Olivia Dunham (prime), Stephanie Brown, open
What: Everyone's going to pick daisies and go on a picnic in the woods!
Where: Wherever is convenient! He's mostly in the southeast part of the city, but can be anywhere.
When: Various days over the second week of the siege.
Notes: If you want a thread starter ping me and I will make you one :3 or... idk just tag in somewhere random.
Warnings: Violence, mild horrors (like, relatively, yes), also some vague discussion of mental illness stuff in the OP.

After his Awakening, he sleeps.

When he wakes up, he's disoriented -- the room is unfamiliar, he's lying on a cot in a safehouse in Mog Hill, which someone explains to him when he asks. He has mercifully been left alone most of the time, except for someone who would come to check to make sure he hadn't actually died. That makes him pause and ask how long he was out.

Three days. He slept for three days. That's three days of being utterly useless and vulnerable, with no one knowing where he is, he doesn't know where he is -- three days of Baedal going to Hell.

Three days of dreamless sleep.

He wept. He's too embarrassed to ever admit it, and he thankfully held it together until he was alone, but he did. Whether it was out of frustration, or anger, or fear, or relief, he's still not sure. Too much emotion all at once when he's spent the last three years buried under the fog his medication produces in him -- blunted affect is a side effect of much of them. He doesn't typically feel much of anything, and he'll continue to not feel much of anything as soon as he can get back on them.

One of the women later finds him hunched over a table, making small, hysterical noises. There's a glass of wine and a jug of water on the table; she can't tell if he's laughing or crying. When she asks what happened, he glances at the glass and says in a voice like a dull razor, "Well, it's been done."

After that, they gently suggest he stay away from sharp objects.

Still, he refuses to have a mental breakdown in the middle of a citywide crisis -- if he's going to indulge (which he very well might) it will have to be at a more convenient time. Compartmentalization it is.

Wolfgang puts himself to work immediately. He can be useful. He has combat experience, specialized training. He has magic, apparently, although he hasn't really felt out the limits of what he can do (he is very afraid that the answer may be everything), there are a few things that come in immediately useful. It is very strange to think of himself as telepathic, but that's the word they use. He can listen for danger and hear people in need of help all without even stepping outside. He can imprint simple but strong impulses in the walls of the building itself, calm the hysterical, reduce the pain of the injured. Boil water, grow food, keep the light and heat on when the power occasionally goes out. So many useful little things. They don't always work the way he intends -- he finds, with great chagrin, that magic never quite wants to do what he wants it to do -- but it's serviceable.

Mostly, he looks after the children. They like him, especially the very young ones who aren't quite grown enough to understand what's going on -- he keeps them calm and entertained and out of their parents' hair for a while. He runs into a family he used to sit for in Bonetown and the little girl runs up, punches him in the leg, shouts "That's for missing my recital!" and stomps off to a corner to pout. He spends the next half hour sitting through an extremely dramatic reenactment of her big solo, interjecting with the appropriate amount of reverent awe for her skill and wit, while her mother finally gets a few private moments in the bathroom. Her eyes are red when she comes out; he doesn't mention it.

As the infestation goes on, though, it becomes clear to him that he can't stay here the entire time.

Or rather, that he won't.

Comments

[charismatic]

“Some people passed me back that way – it's why I came this way.” It takes a moment for the rest of it to catch up to Will and then he pauses, eyebrows furrowing. He's not sure if he heard that right, and even if he did, he has no idea what it means. “Let them go?” he repeats.

[gramarye]

"Oh. Okay." He gazes off that way for a moment, a little vaguely, before he shakes his head and snaps out of it. It has been a hell of a day. "Thanks, um. By the... way. Nice shooting." A little awkward, but it's not like this happens every day.

As far as his choice of words, Wolfgang winces and shakes his head. "Don't ask." Because it's majorly weird, and there are some very real ethical concerns about it, but... everyone here is alive, that's preferable to the alternative.

He heads off in that direction, steady on his feet as the adrenaline still hasn't left him. He can sort of feel them the closer he gets, although he's not reading their thoughts so much as is generally aware of the presence of them, the strong emotional currents. When he gives someone a compulsion to run and hide, they run and stay hid until he takes it away. Two men, neither of whom were equipped to fight monsters -- one elderly, the other probably his son, neither armed. Wolfgang stays back because he kind of looks terrifying right now, but he's relieved to discover that taking back that hide impulse is pretty simple. The two men come out slowly, shakily, a little dazed but none the worse for it.

[charismatic]

Will stays quiet, following along and keeping an eye out for the next thing in danger of exploding or trying to eat them. He doesn't know what exactly is up with Wolfgang right now, but he'll wait until they're in a less exposed area to – or until after they take care of the civilians.

“Hey,” he calls out after a moment, glancing at Wolfgang, putting his weapon away for the moment and approaching the two men slowly. He keeps his hands in full view. “Are you all right? Do you need help getting back to the safe house?”

[gramarye]

"We're fine," the elder one says, but he's immediately overridden by the younger one -- "He is not fine," he says firmly. He's holding on to the older man to keep him upright. Probably his kid, given his protectiveness.

"I can walk," the older man insists.

"One of those things bit you," the son snaps. "It could -- be venomous or something. I -- yes, we need help. Where is it?"

When he glances at Wolfgang, he goes very pale and immediately looks away. Whether that's the ghoul crap all over him or because he knows what he did, he's not sure. He's not going to say anything and make it worse.

[charismatic]

“It's back this way,” Will says, digging out his CiD to show the two men the way on his map. It's not too far, but “Do you want us to go with you? We're heading back soon anyway.” He glances back at Wolfgang for a moment at that, because there is definitely something going on that he doesn't understand, but they need to get him cleaned up. Who knows what sort of creatures being covered in – well, monster guts is going to attract.

[gramarye]

"No," the older man insists.

The younger one purses his lips. "Yes. Please."

"Can he walk?" Wolfgang is very quiet, just loud enough to be heard.

"Yes," the old man insists again.

"I've got him." The younger one has one arm wrapped around the older one, supporting him and helping him walk. He's not really hurt but he is getting up there in years and his hip doesn't always hold up. They'll be fine to walk the whole way there, though.

Wolfgang comes up behind -- they don't have to look at him that way. Will's got a gun, and nothing's going to come up behind them as long as Wolfgang's concentration is focused.

[charismatic]

The trip back is quiet. It's not a situation conducive to small talk and Will's attention is focused on making sure they don't walk into another pocket of monsters. They have to skirt around a few questionable areas, but it's a thankfully uneventful walk. He does glance back at Wolfgang a few times, but he's mindful enough not to ask awkward questions in front of the civilians.

Once they get back to the camp and hand them off to a couple medics, Will takes a breath. He should probably start wearing his helmet more often, but the narrowed field of view bothers him, even with the extra sensors. It's not like fighting in space. He'll just have to get used to the ground offensives.

“So,” he says after a moment, turning toward Wolfgang. “We should get you cleaned up.”