[Second Life] Pulling at my Skin (Revelations Post)

[cityship]

It was inevitable for all of them. Something would push them, there would be cracks, and then the truth would find its way in.

How it changed for each of them would be different, but the end result would be the same.

The world would change.

Because they would change.

[ooc: I figured out a really good way to organize this with help from chat rather than a big messy communal post or spamming the comm with individual posts. Post each character with a blank tag with just the character's name in the subject. Underneath it, run as many subthreads for events as you need to set up for your specific character's change back. Hiccup's will be up as an example.]

Comments

Hiccup

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

A Long Walk [Warnings for semi-suicidal/depression stuff]

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

The party was...the party wasn't what he'd expected it to be. Big party, lots of cliques mixing, lots of crowds together--there'd been parties like that before. Sometimes, you could go to a party and find other nerds. Sometimes even if you wound up alone, you could go and just...stand by the wall the whole time and nothing would happen, until you decided to leave.

He shouldn't have gone to the party. He shouldn't have tried to have fun, especially since by now his parents might have noticed he'd left home after getting grounded over that cigarette thing. He shouldn't have thought a girl like Astrid could like him. He shouldn't have thought--he shouldn't have thought a lot of things.

And now he kept hallucinating, too, like the night at the pageant, and when he was with that other kid, Jamie. He was seeing things. He didn't really care why, he had no desire to dig around and try to find out the truth, he just sort of assumed he was going crazy or something. Harold didn't care enough to find out reasons.

It was a cold night to be walking home through town alone, especially with his gut all clenched up with self-loathing and mortifying embarrassment, and his shirt and hair drenched with beer. He'd left his coat back at the party, so now, even despite the fact he normally did fine in the cold, his teeth were chattering and he was shaking.

As he went over the walkway of the small bridge over the creek that separated the main part of the town from the residential area that he lived in, he stopped for a moment, his hands on the railing until the cold made them numb. The bridge was empty this late at night. The wind was stronger here, and before long, he felt numb all over. His skin was too cold to feel anything, other than the breeze itself.

The stars were out, and the moon was nearly full. That breeze--that cold breeze was a nice feeling even as it left him shivering. Somehow it made him think of the ocean, of wind coming down from mountains, even though he hardly knew what mountains were like. For a moment, he just closed his eyes and felt the breeze on his face.

Then he had a strange idea in his head, that it'd feel even better if he climbed on the railing. The drop wasn't that far. He knew he could possibly drown or wind up with hypothermia or something, but it seemed like such a distant possibility that it didn't matter. It was a bit of a struggle, because of his leg, and twice, he almost slipped and fell, but one of the vertical railings that went up to the bridge supports made it so he could pull himself up.

Nearly slipping again, he managed to get more solid footing and just stood there, looking out on the creek below, looking at the stars and the moon, and for a moment, standing here like this with nothing really immediately below him, and nothing in front him but open sky, it almost seemed like flying.

Closing his eyes again, he just stood there, most of his body numb, and felt the breeze threading through his clothes, and pretended he was miles over the ground.

"You need to stop all... this." [WARNING: for verbal and physical abuse]

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

It was about 3 am when he tried his best to sneak through the back door. He could see the light of the TV flickering in the living room, but this time of night, it was just Gladys having fallen asleep watching the shopping network. With any luck, he could go up the narrow stairs he hated to walk up that led to the upstairs from the kitchen, and then his bedroom was right there to the right.

He wouldn't avoid getting in trouble--they had to know he was gone by now, but if he could get to his room and lock the door, after a few cursory fist-slams, his dad would give up, and probably be at least a little cooled off by the morning.

That was the plan.

So when he walked in, he really wasn't expecting the kitchen light to suddenly flick on like it did.

Nanoha

[starlightace]

Kang

[governorkang]

A visit from a certain Viking and his dragon

[governorkang]

Kang was still worried about Harold, but he knew there were just some things he couldn't do; the kid had to do them on his own. At the very least, he could give advice, and try to keep tabs on the situation in case it got really bad. He felt strangely attached to Harold.

He sat at the kitchen table, going over the conversation in his mind.

"You know, you're really good at this."

"At what?"

"This. Whatever this is. When your kids get free of the pods and get older, they'll be lucky to have you around."

Kang shook his head, confused. This wasn't how it'd gone. What was this about him having kids, and the mention of pods? A brief flash of a huge cavern filled with strange greenish-yellow pods, and the smell of fresh blood and sweat made him frown and rest his head on his arms.

"No. I was lucky to get the chance to have them in the first place. Besides, this is what family is supposed to do, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Now there was a flash of Hiccup - no, Harold - in a hospital bed, and wearing some sort of skintight suit with a fur vest staring at him.

"I can't replace your father, Hiccup. I don't want to. But I do consider you, and Astrid, to be family."

He needed a drink. And probably a cat scan. What the hell was going on?

Changing back 1/?

[governorkang]

This was insane. Whatever Hiccup - no, Harold, his name was Harold and he was not a Viking - had been going on about, no matter how much sense some of it made, it wasn't true. That dragon had been a hallucination, nothing more.

It was just stress. That's all it was.

Which was why Kang'd gone straight home to try and relax. The next day was a snow day, so he didn't have to go to work; he could sleep in. And luckily for him, he had the best wife in the world. She'd noticed immediately that he needed to unwind, and had just the idea for how to accomplish that.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. They were still half-dressed, and hadn't managed to make it to the bedroom yet when the phone rang. Cursing in annoyance, he very reluctantly tried to pull away, only to have Felicia frown, "Leave it. If it's important, they'll leave a message."

Kang could have pointed out that the late hour increased the chances of it being important, but he really didn't feel like arguing, so he went back to the task at hand. Instead of hearing the beep that signified a message, though, the phone started ringing again.

"...shit. I have to answer it, 'licia." She sighed, running a hand through her hair and grabbing what had been discarded of their clothing so far. Hopefully it wouldn't ruin the evening.

He rolled his eyes immediately at the name, "Parents."

Felicia muttered something unkind in Spanish and settled herself on the couch, not even bothering to put her shirt back on. Her hopes weren't dashed quite yet.

"It's eleven thirty, Mom. Is it important?" Kang spoke in Korean, moving to sit at the kitchen table. "What? Mom, I have the day off tomorrow. I don't want to spend it in the restaurant. Call Sung - he's been complaining about not getting enough hours lately." He rubbed his temple, clearly exasperated, and shot an apologetic smile at his wife.

"Don't - not tonight. Please. I've told you repeatedly that I am never going to take over the restaurant, so don't play that card. Why can't you just accept it and stop harassing me about it?" A pause, and a curse, though this one didn't sound like any language ever spoken on Earth. "No. No. Leave her out of this. This is my life, not yours, and I'm going to do what I damn well want to as long as it makes me happy. You have no control over me.""

It was like a levee had broken. All the stress, and the anger and the hurt that had been building under the surface, burst forth, and he couldn't recall what exactly he said before standing up and throwing the phone against the kitchen wall hard enough to break it into pieces. Shocked, Felicia cautiously moved closer to Kang, who was breathing hard and staring at her as if he didn't even recognize her.

And then, he fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

Jamie McCrimmon

[bonnypiperlad]

The Past That Never Was

[bonnypiperlad]

The walk back from the party was an uncomfortable one. After the eggnog incident, Donald had taken off without a word - and had taken the car with him. Jamie had been forced to walk, his winter coat doing little to prevent the chill from seeping into his bones. And it did nothing to prevent the flashes of...well, he wasn't sure what they were. Almost like memories, but not of things Jamie ever remembered seeing.

A flash of a man, with kindly eyes and a mop of rumpled hair, wearing an equally rumpled oversized coat and a bow tie.

One of a second man, a sailor of some sort, and a tall, long-legged beanpole of a girl.

Another girl, kind and beautiful in a way that made his heart feel strangely tight in his chest.

A third girl, a wee slip of a thing too smart for her own good.

A blue box that was bigger on the inside than on the outside, and a ship larger than a moon...

He shook his head violently for a moment, trying to get the flashes to stop. When he opened his eyes, he saw McCrimmon Music in the distance, and what looked like his father's car parked in front of it. It was still a bit off, but still closer than home. And it was warm. He could make a cup of tea before heading home. And if his father was there, well, he would deal with it then. He hurried his steps, changing direction to head towards the shop.

Turning to Ash (1/?)

[bonnypiperlad]

By the time Jamie had reached the car outside the shop, he almost couldn't feel his fingers. He brought them up to his mouth, breathing over his cupped hands to warm them up before tucking them under his armpits.

The car, he saw, was unlocked. In fact, the door on the driver's side was hanging open. Luckily the keys weren't in the ignition, but anyone could have come along and taken it if they knew how to hot-wire the thing. He reluctantly brought his hands back out so he could lock and close the door.

Footsteps in the snow showed that someone had gone from the car to the door of the shop, although not without incident. Marks where the person had fallen just outside were clearly visible, as was a small silver flask engraved with the initials 'DM'. The cap was a short distance away, a few drops of amber liquid dark against the snow. Picking it up, Jamie tilted it. Empty. Donald was inside, then, and likely quite drunk by now. He suspected the shop door would be open as well, and was proved right when the door swung wide under his touch. "Father?"

There was no reply. As he stepped inside, he noticed the air smelled odd - an acrid, smoky scent that pervaded the front of the shop. Most of the shop lights were off, but he could see a light flickering just at the bottom of the heavy curtain that separated the two rooms. The smell seemed to be coming from behind the curtains, and he thought he could see smoke curling out from underneath as well.

Jamie peered at them, wondering if this was his brain playing tricks on him again. Maybe if he closed his eyes it would go away. But when he did so, nothing happened. He could still smell the smoke. And then he heard a crash, as of glass breaking, and a FWOOSH.

His eyes popped open to see flickering light suddenly becoming much much brighter, and now he could also hear the popping and crackling noise coming from back there as well.

McCrimmon Music was on fire.

Kate Bishop

[nothawkingbird.livejournal.com]

Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are looking good (Warnings for sexual assault)

[nothawkingbird.livejournal.com]

She had gone to the party of course, but her head bothered her. Lizzy (Kate? Sometimes she found herself not even responding to her name.) Can't have drank too much, she just had a beer. No big deal. That one guy was checking her out, and he was ok. Kind of cute, and charming, but he was a little insistent. She shrugged him off and talked with some of the popular girls. Not even noticing how his eyes were following her at times.

Something about the gossip this time felt so... inane. She can do so much more. She did. (A hand drawing back an arrow in a bow, a sword flashing through the air as she swung toward the villain that dared to hurt her friends)

Did she? Beer must be going to her head, but she felt sober. Not even a nice buzz going yet. Lizzy finally felt she would just walk home. Even if it meant cutting across the park to go an empty house. Dad wanted to get the special edition to bed which meant getting back late. Whatever, not like it'd be a long walk in her dress and heels. Even if the path felt a little creepy.

Fate T. Harlaown

[thunder-ace.livejournal.com]

Tavros Nitram

[alterniantaurus.livejournal.com]

Starfire

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

Confidence

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

Corinne's parents had taken great pains to instill in their daughter that confidence could change the world. If your steps had bounce, if your head was held high, and if you spoke without hesitation? The world would be wrapped around your index finger as a perfect coil.

Up until recently, the girl believed she had mastered the art---but she wasn't so sure. What Peter had told her---that she was bad at lying and backstabbing---had more truth to it than she cared to admit. What had once been simple steps to the top were now questionable, now that human faces were attached.

For some reason, his face stuck out in her mind more than the countless others. As if their relationship had once been more than enemies with a shared weirdness introduced to their lives. And that weirdness...what was it?

She studied her reflection in the mirror that morning, pulling the dulled brown hair back. For a fraction of a second, it looked like it didn't belong on her scalp at all.

She glanced onto her dressertop, the color of red suddenly flashing in her mind. Her cat was there, an unreadable expression on her face. One second passed, and she leapt onto the bed with a perfect landing.

Such confidence, and for accomplishing something---not stomping on others, just minding her own business and building pride in herself.

Corinne, you must be like the cat today. As she left the room, the sentiment and many others clawed at her mind.

Joy

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

It was noon, and Corinne found herself relegated to the end of the cheerleaders' table at Fairplay High School. A clear sign that she had been demoted on the food chain.

"Hey, pass the pretzels!" jeered her teammates, reaching for the small bag in Corinne's hands. She could only watch helplessly as the pretzels were confiscated and subsequently split among the others. Evidently, she no longer retained a right to her own food. Ah well, maybe this would start to make up for the apple turnover she ate.

"I...hope you all enjoy the food," Corinne told them with a false smile, turning away from the others. At the far end of the room, she saw a group of nerdy kids. There was no 'end' to their table---simply a clustered mass all playing and laughing together. On their faces: pure joy, as pure as the snowbird flying outside the window just over their heads. It was almost as if they could fly.

An even stronger flash of those flying dreams hit Corinne's mind then, causing her to set her food back down. Her body tingled strangely, as if it was trying to do something she'd forgotten how to. Perhaps a cheer move from when she was younger?

Corinne sighed to herself, resolving to pull out of her situation. She wanted to fly too.

Fury

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

That night, Corinne's new resolve to capture and protect joy was tested.

She had been assigned to walk with the cheerleading squad that night, satisfying each and every whim. Their books were carried, their shoes were shined, their hair was safely pulled back. Even if Corinne had been sorely tempted to give a little yank.

That night, the fallen princess was brought along for her final task of the evening: to provide the blackmail for one of the girls' sting operations.

The situation, she knew, was ridiculous. One of the class geeks, Julian Morris, had reacted with distaste when their glorious captain had demanded that she be allowed to copy his homework. As any honorable (and lacking in common sense) geek would, he promptly reported her to the teachers. They, predictably, had shrugged and dismissed Julian none too tactfully.

This wasn't enough humiliation to satisfy the cheerleaders, of course, so they had one more plan in the works: break his girlfriend away from him. The plan was simple. Corinne would kiss him, the girls would take photos, and they would be sent to his girlfriend---her name was Veronica, Corinne thought. Enough evidence would be planted to convince Veronica, and Julian would face misery.

For the first phase, Corinne was to approach on her own. Too many cheerleaders would look suspicious. She stood on the sidewalk in front of their target, waving him over shyly. "Hey...Julian, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Peter Parker

[puny-parker.livejournal.com]

Re: Peter Parker

[puny-parker.livejournal.com]

Partway through the party, Peter left, and wandered back home through main street. As he passed, TVs in shop windows switched from the local news to enactments of Shakespeare.

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."
"Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!"
"Something is rotten in the state of Denmark"

Carolers one the street corner inexplicably changed from Rudolph to "The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water-spout. Down came the rain, and washed the spider out..."

Inevitably, Peter slid to his knees, shouting to the sky "WHAT IS GOING ON?!

Cargn Thane

[daemonomicon.livejournal.com]

Tenaya

[neverwastenaya.livejournal.com]

 

Re: Tenaya

[neverwastenaya.livejournal.com]

"Not so bad, was it?" Dylan asked once the pageant was over. "Just like the old days."

"Yeah," Tenaya muttered, holding onto his arm a little unsteadily.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, his voice worried. "You're acting a little off. Do you feel okay?"

Tenaya hesitated. Part of her wanted to explain things, but...no, it was too crazy. Or was it that it made too much sense and this was crazy?

"Tennie?" Dylan called.

"I think I need to use the bathroom," she said.

"Okay," he answered, guiding her to the restroom.

Jono Starsmore

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

The days I've felt alone/The sea, it brings me back again.

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

It had taken a few minutes, but Jono had managed to pull himself together again and had left the pageant early. He wasn't the only one, from the way things had looked, but he was the slowest. He hadn't driven down, not trusting himself to drive in the snow. Now he was regretting that decision.

He wasn't thinking about where he was going, though. Instead, his mind was back on the vision he'd seen when the mayor was speaking. He knew what he'd seen. It felt...real. More real than Fairplay, at least.

It wasn't just that, now. He was getting flashes of other things. Of people other than the ones he'd seen in the vision.

An African-American boy with an easy smile. Jono knew he could do amazing things. So much more than Jono could do himself.

A girl with dark skin and a haughty expression. She was perfect, but alone. They all were.

Another girl, Asian-American. Dark hair, dark eyes and a firecracker personality. It went with the ones at her fingertips. [That made no sense. Why would she have firecrackers at her fingertips?]

A third girl, blonde and blue-eyed, All-American girl. He knew in his heart he loved her. It ended badly. It was always meant to end badly. When you could change your skin as she did, why not change your mind, too? [Change her skin? Ugh, gross.]

An older man and woman. Teachers? He was Irish, strong and a moral compass. She was blonde, cold as her name--[What was her name?]--but formidable.

And another boy. Like him--not like him. Grey skin, chip on his shoulder. But he laughed. And he called Jono friend. And he was dead. He knew that, too.

Jono stumbled to a stop on the main street, shaking his head and trying to get his mind together. Just then, he scented something on the air.

Smoke.

Looking up, he saw an empty street. Empty but for the car in front of McCrimmon's Music. If the car was there, Donald probably was. And possibly Jamie.

Then he saw the reddish light in the windows and realized where the smoke was coming from. Gritting his teeth, he made his legs function, heading to the shop as quickly as he could.

Daimon Hellstrom

[birthmural]

Jamie Hemeros

[riseupnchargem.livejournal.com]

I can't get enough, I'm not satisfied, I've wasted my time with this daily grind

[riseupnchargem.livejournal.com]

[WARNING for suicidal stuff in this thread.]

Jamie was losing his mind.

That was the only explanation for the hallucinations and the weird memories-that-weren't that kept plaguing him. He knew that others in the town were experiencing something odd, too, he'd seen their reactions at the Christmas pageant when that - thing had happened during the mayor's speech, and prior that there'd been that incident with Harold at the store -

His father had heard about it, of course, and when he'd gotten home from his overnight shift at the factory he'd very solemnly sat Jamie down and asked him what was going on, what he and that other boy had been doing, was he feeling all right because he hadn't seemed well lately, and Jamie hadn't been able to tell him about the hallucinations and the thoughts that kept scratching at the back of his brain and the hours spent in the car down by the train tracks and why he'd been by the train tracks in the first place and holding in all the confusion and worry and fear and despair had made his chest tighten and his throat clench and for a moment he wished he was five again so he could believe his dad had all the answers and knew how to make everything all right again.

In the days following they hadn't spoken of it much again and Jamie had stuck close to home to avoid worrying his dad, and then he'd shared in that group hallucination at the vets' hall and something inside him broke, suddenly but very cleanly and quietly. The following night he'd made his dad breakfast before his shift, told him goodbye when he left for work, done the dishes, and then he'd made his preparations and gone to the train tracks one last time.

He'd smoked a cigarette while he was waiting, plumes of smoke jetting from mouth and nostrils as he puffed on it nervously. The last couple of drags had tasted funny, not like nicotine and tobacco but like other things that cigarettes shouldn't have tasted like, a scent on his tongue of brine and salt and dead seaweed (Jamie had never left Iowa and therefore never seen the ocean and certainly had never smelled it), of old oil on warm concrete (like a mechanic's shop but much much bigger, though how he could tell just from the smell Jamie could not explain). He'd thrown the cigarette butt down in disgust, pulled the rest of the pack from the pocket of his coat and thought about setting fire to them just to vent his frustrated panic on something, but then he'd looked up and seen a tiny light in the distance and known that there wasn't time for anything else anymore.

Vindicator Nehaalista

[dearest-nehaa.livejournal.com]

Steal Me Away Before the Quiet Dream is Over

[dearest-nehaa.livejournal.com]

Temptation was unholy in the eyes of the Lord. As the Bride of Christ, she was to have thoughts only for the Lord, to do only deeds in His name, and keep herself pure for Him.

But, Lord forgive her, she was tempted. Which was why she waited anxiously in the undercroft beneath the church, as she tried to tell herself to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Even though she came here often enough to clean.

Maybe Brother Damon would show up. Maybe he would not. Natasha bit her lip as she cleaned up the dusty room, dragging an old pile of moth-eaten velvet curtains to another corner of the undercroft.