005 | Video & Action | 24th

[unitas]

[ The camera flickers to life showing off the inside of the Speakeasy. It's mostly quiet at the moment, a few people drinking their sorrows away in silence, hiding away from their ghosts. The video swivels to show off eight unique paintings spaced equally apart, one of each god, lining the back wall. They're all painted with black ink, names scribbled above their heads, and on each forehead is a bright red X, or, in Love's case, right in the middle of their pink fluffy self.

And then she turns the video to herself. Her dark roots are more visible and her pallor is off but she appears pleased with herself. There's a smudge of black paint on her cheek. ]

Anyone up for a game of darts? [ She says it with mock cheer, a spit in the face or whatever god is trying to force her to feel what they want. Her expression sours for a single moment, words turning icy. ] And to the asshole who thinks it's cool to play with our loved ones: fuck you. May you lose someone you care for and never, ever be able to bring them back.

[ Her eyes begin to sting as she punctuates that last sentence, nose turning a few shades pink, and she quickly swallows it back, bringing a drink up to her mouth with her other hand. It'll be over soon but for now, it's pain. It's pain for the people she loves here and she won't be quiet about it. She lets her voice soften as she continues, though her scowl remains. ] It's open to all, obviously, and I'll make certain to do upkeep on them so you never have to miss their stupid, smug ass faces. Though, someone should sew up a curtain large enough to cover that wall when no one's playing; no one wants to see them all the time.

[ Don't you love how she doesn't ask? In any case, she ends the feed at that moment. If anyone wants her, she's available at the bar for action threads, tossing makeshift darts at Sorrow's face. ]

Comments

action.

[fulminatory]

[Drinks and darts? Count Jason in. His own visitor's left him in an incredibly sour mood - possibly palpable to those who might find themselves around him, definitely evident from the tension of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes. Jason is, of course, dealing with his complicated tangle of feelings the way he does best, which is not.

Pointy-eared shadow notwithstanding, his focus for the darts hasn't been affected - so far, he's hit the X dead center on every portrait along the wall, except for Sorrow. He's made his way down the line, and Sorrow is the last one. He can wait his turn, though. Eyes ahead on the likeness of the god next to Sorrow, aiming another dart, he comments to Sharon:]

So if what I read was right, this sort of thing's the usual around here, huh?

action.

[unitas]

[ He hits every mark and Sharon watches in impressed silence, leaned up against the bar with a drink in hand. Her fingers are stained dark and she has no interest in washing it away for the moment. She takes a quick drink before she replies with a bit of a huff of laughter, though it lacks everything but cynicism. ]

Yeah, it's basically the fucking norm. [ She's not better and rolls her eyes when Dahlia, the ghost, berates her. Why does the woman not understand she isn't her mother? She'll never be her mother, even if she couldn't kill her, she lost her chances. ] I think their end goal is to make us lose our fucking minds.

But they need to be careful who they break. [ And that sounds vaguely threatening, especially coupled with the narrowing of her eyes and the scowl that takes hold of her features. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em for manipulating her. Fuck 'em for bringing in fake versions of their loved ones.

How is she supposed to look past that? ] You get a ghost, too?

[fulminatory]

[Jason answers her with the same sort of laugh - dry, mirthless, the sort of sound you push out of your throat in lieu of a scream. The dart in his hand goes sailing into the X over Hope's forehead.]

Broken people are the most dangerous of all. They have nothing left to lose.

[He would know - he's one of them, after all.

The question makes him pause, glance over to the corner of the room, where the Batman stands, watching him, cloaked in shadows and a cape, just as Jason remembers him. He's silent, but he doesn't need to say anything -
Jason can feel him disapproving.]

Yeah ... I sure did. Didn't think he was dead, though. He's ... the kind of guy who always seemed unkillable. Been real tight-lipped about it, too, when I asked.

[But he can guess; it must have been the explosion after all. Jason pushes down the flash of memory of Bruce pulling him out of the direct path of the blast he'd detonated as his final stratagem, takes a sip of his drink to swallow down the guilt he feels rising in his throat like bile. Aims another dart at Love this time, throws, and misses.]

Damn it.

[He sets down his beer and walks over to the collect the dart from the floor.]

[unitas]

He's not really a ghost. [ She states idly as he retrieves the fallen dart, setting her drink down to ready her own throw. Dahlia looks to the floor in genuine sorrow but Sharon only rolls her eyes at the ashen woman, afraid to let it show that this event was sending her through an emotional spiral she thought she'd long gotten over. ]

It's just another machination to get what they want from us. People come in one time a month, and they definitely don't come in invisible to everyone but ourselves. [ She twists the dart in her other hand and, the moment Jason is out of accidental stabbing range, she tosses it at Sorrow's painted face—she's inches off her mark, but she only sighs, unbothered. Her skills lie with a paintbrush and endless amounts sarcasm, snark, and faux courage, not knives or darts or bows. ]

When something strange happens, when in doubt, blame a god.

[beanstalk]

What's this game of 'darts,' then? [ Color him extremely curious and very, very interested. Even if it's just a picture he's stabbing, it's sure to be a little stress relieving.

And it'll keep his mind off of his own ghosts for a while. ]

[unitas]

Honestly, it's less a game of darts and more of a reason to throw sharp objects at portraits of our parasitic bastard overlords.

[beanstalk]

In that case, you can definitely count me in.

Hope you've got copies of those portraits.

[unitas]

I can paint as many portraits as necessary as long as I have the supplies. [ But she won't be turning to Hope for paints again any time soon. She'll keep to the stores or, if push comes to shove, ask Fear; it's always nice to have a god with some attachment towards you, though it's one of the last things she enjoys doing. ]

[video]

[elegant_and_proud]

[Intellectually, she understands that much of what the gods do is for the survival of their nearly extinct race. She doesn't begrudge them for needing emotion. But the things that they choose to evoke those emotions?

That's another matter. She had suggested to Tranquility that the gods try to work with the people stuck here and try to reach something resembling compromise as far as getting the emotions they need while minimizing harm to the people they're receiving emotion from. The competition the gods had was a good way to do that. Love's initial arrival event that made everyone more able to love themselves was fine. This? This is definitely not.]

I would be interested.

[She pauses, glancing at the pictures.]

You're a talented painter.

[video]

[unitas]

I thought it'd be something people would get a kick out of after this schtick. [ It's not unusual for the gods to manipulate them in such a way but this time it feels particularly cruel. No one should be forced to deal with fake loved ones, no matter the accuracy to them. ]

And thanks. I'm better with a brush than I am with... just about everything else. [ She's also very good at being petty af. ]

[video]

[elegant_and_proud]

It might be fun to fashion together dummies that people can cut with swords and shoot with guns, too.

[Guess who doesn't shy away from the occasional bit of controlled ultraviolence? This lady.]

You did come up with an excellent idea for catharsis for everyone.

[video]

[unitas]

'fraid I don't have the carpentry skills to fashion dummies, but that's a good plan. I might ask around, see who can. [ Perhaps she'll message Ronan, see if she can get him to dream up something they can destroy. ]

video

[64th]

You seem stressed. [ Cashmere keeps looking away from the camera, most of her focus clearly elsewhere. ]

You painted those?

video

[unitas]

I don't know, seeing the people you care for that can't even be real can stress a girl out. [ She notices that Cash's attention is elsewhere, no doubt thanks to a ghost of her own. She can't handle the prospect of them being real.

At the question, she dips her head. ] You bet. It's not like I've got much else to do here other than expand my art skills. It's either paint or lose my mind.

video

[64th]

He's real. [ not that Sharon directly said otherwise, but you know. just so that's established. ]

I hear all the greats do both.

video

[unitas]

[ Cash seems adamant and she bites her tongue to keep from arguing otherwise. She would have thought the other woman would be used to such tricks by now. The next comment makes her laugh, though it's a stark contrast from her expression. ]

I must be well on my way, then.

[video]

[hornrims]

[Richie doesn't show his face. Instead there's only a wide shot of his house until a knife comes into view.]

Does it have to be darts?

[video]

[unitas]

You could use a bow and arrow for all I care, though I don't think Rey would approve. [ A pause and then she raises up her own knife. ] I'm playing with knives myself. I haven't found too many darts and I'm saving those for people who can't throw for shit.

[ She doesn't want to get kicked from the Speakeasy because someone got stabbed thanks to her antics. ]

Action

[ushahin]

[Ushahin comes into the speakeasy and Sharon will immediately notice that there's a lightness to him that has never been present before. He's been so tired of fighting his own madness, that by the time these ghosts have shown up, he's just given in. He'd prefer to be happy instead of thinking of them as just an illusion or figment of his imagination.

He sits down by Sharon, smiling a little as long fingers reach out to take a dart.]

I see you have been productive.

Action

[unitas]

[ Ushahin arrives and Sharon can tell, almost immediately, that there's something lighter to him, as if some dark weight is lifted; as if he were, for the moment, genuinely happy. It's a new look for him, almost pleasant. ]

I try to keep busy. [ She replies. To keep all the dark thoughts from swallowing her into a pit. ]

[ushahin]

It's good you put that anger to good use.

[He tosses a dart at Confusion's face, though it falls a little short. Ushahin has a long memory and he still hasn't forgotten how he brought the doubles that caused so much pain and misery to the cave all those months ago.

He turns to Sharon and there's kindness in his fractured blue eyes.]

So. Who has showed up for you?

[He knows better than anyone how happiness can hurt. To have loved ones back would bring eventual misery, but to have his mother and cousin around for right now is all he had ever hoped for.]

[unitas]

[ It would be an easy endeavor to simply just lie to Ushahin, despite the fact that it would be obvious what she were doing, but she's tired. She might be getting sick. Is cave illness such a thing? ]

My dad, Christopher. [ With a brief moment of hesitation, she pulls out of a photo from her pocket, showing off a happy looking family, and offers to let him look at it. It's a little bent and worn around the edges and on the back of the glossy paper are three names, written in childlike handwriting: ME DADDY AND MOM.

She looks behind her a moment as if someone else has grabbed her attention. Her next words are cooler now. ]

And a woman I should have killed a long time ago.

video; not late

[closerift]

[ Cullen is still here. On the 24th of the month, the phantom form of her husband still follows her like a lost dog.

It's difficult to ignore him. ]

Who do you see, Sharon?

[ Maker, if she could take this heartache from her friend... but, as usual, everyone in these caves seems to have to face it alongside one another. ]

Is it your father?

video; ur never late bb

[unitas]

[ She glances down, expression twisted in a brief moment of pure anxiety and heartbreak, and then nods. She swallows a lump in her throat. It's difficult. ]

And my... Alessa's mother. [ And she's afraid she knows who may follow Cecily: what better way to hurt her. ] Are you all right?

video;

[closerift]

No.

[ But she won't - can't - talk about that, so she changes the subject. ]

Is Mello with you? Is he all right?