multiversallogs | i wrote this song while i was drunk

Entry tags:

i wrote this song while i was drunk

Who: Jae and you.
What: Sorting his head out, getting back to work.
Where: Various places around town, including bar hopping and slice of life activities in Creekside, at work at the Vault, Anarchy 99, and the radio station, and at a temple in Brock Marsh.
When: Over the next week.
Notes: Would you like to bump into Jae somewhere? Note the location/vague timeline in your tag and it shall be so.
Warnings: Unpleasant thoughts about rape culture, drug use.

In the aftermath of attempting to help Megan and his encounter with Hilmi, Jae has a difficult time processing the series of events as things that happened to him - because things haven't happened to him. Things happened to Megan. Sure, if you hit a vanity with a sledgehammer, it's not just the glass that's cracked, but he's still not the fucking mirror; Jae's reeling from the turbulence. So is everyone else who knows (well, maybe not Sonja) and everyone else who will know - and more people will react to what Jae did, and so on, and so on, like ripples, because every time anyone does something violent or cruel, the whole of their world feels it. Society didn't become soulless overnight. It took a hundred million weeks like these and now, even when people feel the backlash, they don't seem realize it.

It's normal.

(It's horrible.)

Jae buys a couple of tabs at the Vault before his shift and rolls all the way through it. If there's one thing he appreciates about Baedal, it's that so much more is perfectly legal (or at least, perfectly unregulated), and the ecstasy (or space ecstasy) he can get is pure, none of this shit cut with coke or speed like he had to worry about back at home. It's a good night for everybody, which is fortunate; it's always good when he works whether or not he uses any enchantments, but this week, he's not even letting his subconscious do anything - he feels like there's a great gaping wound somewhere intangible inside him, and the stitches keep splitting. He just doesn't want to bleed anymore.

While he's been made one of the floor staff family with ease at the Vault, his experiences at Anarchy 99 have been more - well. It caters to dwarven metal. Still, there's a fair amount of enthusiasm for his style ("Just put some more INXS on it"), and when one of the waitresses asks him what happened that one night with Hilmi (because he hasn't come back), he just shrugs. Jae isn't sure if he should be feel fortunate that she's the only one who noticed they walked out back together, but while some of the girls liked Hilmi, some of them really didn't, and she decides to interpret that shrug as him having done everybody a favor. The notion of it makes him uneasy - but it's not like he can correct her and not lie, so he just stays quiet, and thinks about the same thing he thought about that night. That if somebody comes to arrest him, he'll just go. The notion of being locked up is like a suffocating nightmare at the end of a long and dark hallway on his head, but what's even more terrifying is the idea of becoming the kind of person who wouldn't take responsibility for doing something awful. (He'll ask Ilde for Sonja's number, he decides. He'd rather apologize to her than the police, and he knows enough about the military to know speaking to someone's commanding officer is as good as.)

Too much liquor, long nights, and investing in a pill cutter; Jae almost feels human again, losing himself in work. The radio station is a hilarious disaster, but he likes his boss, as much of a lunatic as she is. That he's at the bottom of the ladder again makes him feel like even more a child, stumbling over himself and his magic and his emotions as he is in this strange place. But there, it's not as bad. He hits the bar across the way from his flat in Creekside, he buys groceries and a new pair of sunglasses, and then he comes home ("home") and lays on the floor and stares up at the ceiling and pretends his head spins because he's been drinking too much.

He doesn't sleep for two nights, and then spends the third up and reading the book that appeared in the arrival room with him. It's the first time he touched it since he shoved it in the back of his closet when he moved in. The next evening, he goes to one of Shada's temples in Brock Marsh, and doesn't do anything beside sit quietly in the back.

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He doesn't have much trouble finding the place. In fact, he rarely has trouble with navigation at all anymore. He's pretty sure there would be a reason for that, if one opened up the panel in the back of his head and poked around in that half-circuitry brain of his, but he overwhelmingly does not care at all to do that, and so he's perfectly fine not knowing the reason. Sometimes he can even kid himself into thinking he's just developed a great sense of direction.

And so it's that great sense of direction that leads him first to Creekside, then to the only place that fits Jae's description. But amazing brain-additions or not, Vanadi has never exactly been punctual, and no amount of upgrades can fix that. So he's there at 7:10, sliding in, masked and cheerful, and immediately taking stock of all of tonight's patrons. It's important to know what your options are, after all. Especially if Jae doesn't turn up.

In a manner of speaking, Ilde is here because of Fish.

She's spent months walking past Shada's temples in the city; lingering outside, thinking about it, never quite managing to go in. She's been curious, watchful, and a little oddly shy - religion is something alien to her, though the desire for that connection isn't. She'd toyed often with the idea of appealing to the goddess for aid and never come to any firm conclusion. She's swum beside Shada's children in the Gross Tar, and wondered, but it's only after inadvertently participating in Fish's observances to Maryis that she has the right push under her feet to keep moving towards, to go in and sit down.

Beside Jae, at the back, where she can see what's going on.

She hasn't explored Creekside yet, so that's where she heads, following the clean, crisp lines of the map in her mind.

It's a calmer, quieter neighbourhood than the one her motel is crammed in; the lines of cosy cottages and colourful storefronts remind her, vaguely, of the streets she lived on in Ohio.

The sheer diversity of this city, she thinks, outweighs even Gotham's.

And that's not even speaking to the people. She's watching them, too, as she wheels along the pavement. It's equal parts curiosity and security, really; her eskrima sticks lay on her lap, a comforting weight she can't really feel.

Steph has been all over the city in the last few days looking at apartments to rent. She's found a few potential places and narrowed the list down to two in Skulkford, one in Brock Marsh and one in Creekside, which is why she's there tonight. She'd headed over to check the place out after work and after deciding that Creekside is a little further out of the city centre than she'd like to be, she'd crossed the apartment there off her list.

Living in the room at the Inn has started to get to her, shifting between restlessness and loneliness even though she's got plenty to do and a few people that she likes spending time with. But she's never been good at just calling people and asking them to hang out so when she walks past a moderately busy looking bar in Creekside on her way to the El Train stop, she decides to go in for a drink and some socializing rather than heading straight back to the Inn.

She's barely inside when she notices Jae -- he's hard to miss with the white hair -- and she recognizes him from Megan's party. Normally she'd go over and say hi regardless of any ulterior motive, but right now she does have one. Or two. She'd tried to contact Megan earlier in the week and gotten no response, which had seemed a little odd considering that they'd discussed Steph coming to see Megan at the Vault; Steph had sent her a text to ask what time Megan went on. The second reason is that Jae looks kind of... sad, and Steph wants to do something about that, even if it's just giving Jae some company.

So she goes to the bar, orders a glass of white wine - because she'd feel out of place not drinking and wine is less likely to get her drunk than a mixer is - then heads over to where Jae is.

"Hi," Steph smiles, her expression something between friendly and that look of curiosity that comes from recognizing someone but not actually knowing them, "Were you at Megan's party the other week?"

It was after his shift, and Jay, of course, was taking the train back to Flyside. To be more exact, he was on the Sud Line taking his train back to the center of the city so he could then transfer to the train that would take him to Flyside. He had a notebook in hand with detailed schematics of how the train worked, and he was studying them closely. His work day may be over, but Jay could be a bit of a workaholic when it came to a project he enjoyed, and while by now he understood very well how the trains worked, he was, in essence, trying to drum up more work for himself by searching for inefficiencies in the system that he could work on in addition to his usual maintenance duties.

He adjusted his glasses on his nose, then looked up at Jae, noticing the very striking white hair. Normally he'd just assume that it was dyed, but in Baedal, he couldn't be sure.

Shrieky trudged sullenly through the streets of Brock Marsh, his hair and clothes soaked though, plastered flat against his skin by the odd smelling, somewhat polluted waters of the Gross Tar.

It had been inevitable, really. There wasn't ever a question of him not getting in the river, the question had always been when. The justification he'd eventually constructed was that despite the fact that he could no longer breathe under water, and despite the fact that his legs couldn't touch the bottom, and despite the fact that the river clearly contained many contaminants, and despite the fact that he wasn't certain that he could trust his legs to get him back out again... he really liked swimming.

Yes, he could have gone to a public pool, but experience had taught him that he had a tendency to be territorial about sharing water with people. The river was probably better, even if he hadn't dared to move away from the edge, and propelling himself through the water using was apparently an arduous task now. Eventually he'd abandoned the endeavor in disgust, and began the trudging, soggy journey which he was currently on, back towards the Valhalla Inn.

Will's getting the hang of things. Enough so that he's trying out the city's nightlife for the first time since he's gotten here. It's not so bad, though the music is a little strange. The alcohol tastes pretty much the same so he has a little of that, dances with a bunch of random people, and it helps solidify his conviction that he'll be able to adapt. There are still some things – he hasn't been able to suss out any information about resistance movements, but he's also been cautious. He needs to know the terrain and the climate better first. But he has a job and a new place and maybe not friends, exactly, yet, but he's meeting people and getting along with them. He'll get there. He's adaptable and persistent and it was a lot easier once the decided that everything being strange meant everything was normal

He's stopping at the bar for a bottle of water when he catches sight of Jae down the counter, and he heads over after he gets his water, dropping onto the stool next to him in a flurry of limbs and shiny, brightly covered fabric. He bought himself a 'fun' shirt yesterday. It wasn't that expensive and he figures he's making enough to buy frivolous things occasionally. It makes him feel more grounded, somehow. “Hey,” he says, and then pauses. They haven't spoken since separating at that party, and while Will thinks he's pretty memorable – it's a big city. “I'm Will,” he adds. “I met you a couple weeks ago?”

Despite being told that Mozenrath is gone, Martha can't let it be still. She simply couldn't rest on her laurels when she thought that there might be more to everything than him simply (hopefully) going home. So, because of that Martha was spending a bit of time in the back of the temple of Shada, thinking that if there was anything weird about his disappearance, there would be a clue here.

It was funny, during her two years aboard the Barge, the desire to investigate things that had come from her being a companion had been suppressed by being a warden. The suppression had worn off now that they were here, and she was almost making up for lost time.

The best way to go about doing something like this was being friendly, so when she saw someone else sitting quietly in the back, Martha offered a quick smile to the person, and a slight wave.

Youko had not been that surprised to hear that one of Hellsing's magic-sensitive contacts had been in touch, the other night - there had been something in the air, skirting the edge of her awareness. If she'd been focused on sensing such things at the time, maybe she would have felt it fully herself, even in this city of electric, dancing energies. There hadn't been any obvious damage, or else Hellsing would have been called in with more urgency, but it still warranted investigation, and Youko had pulled the card out of the hat (figuratively speaking) (usually). She'd already spoken to the mage who contacted them, and had a general idea of the area the spike of magic had come from, so that was where she was headed tonight, and she ended up strolling into a bar that was lit in neon blue and very... industrial. Grinding music, and grinding on the dance floor. Regretfully, she had to pass that by for the moment, heading instead to the bar to make gentle inquiries among the staff, so long as no-one pinged her magic-dar first.

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the temple to shada;

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Passing through Brock Marsh, some vague time after Jae is done in the temple there?