Trustfell Mods (
trustharder) wrote in
trusthell2016-04-03 10:02 am
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Week 6.
The number of Survivors left is dropping at a quick pace; the King got what he wanted, for better or for worse; Tarrlok and Lynne were victims of both fate and some sort of magic that most in the Vault still don't quite understand, and Misa Amane has been executed, not for her particular brand of "justice", but for murdering two innocent people. It's been a bad week. However, Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; there aren't any bodies to be found on Sunday morning. But that doesn't mean the night was uneventful - it seems something else may have brought you some newfound clarity. Or perhaps not... Once again, that spiral staircase leads farther than you remember, clear up to a previously inaccessible sixth floor. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; you've done well. You've earned it. |
SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week six of Trustfell! Save your threads for coins and the coming week's activity check; don't forget to check in to this week's activity check and submit your memory regains!
The text and calling posts are still active, for the sake of contacting the jerk who's keeping you here, to be used at your leisure!]
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[Yeah that sounds... good. Maybe. Something to keep his mind focused on anything else besides that goddamned dream.]
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Your tea's ready.
[He'll pour Bruce a cup and set it in front of him, then pour himself one.]
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...I'm sorry.
[Bruce doesn't even know what he's apologizing for, but he feels he needs to say it, anyway.]
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[He'd have to be a terrible kind of person to blame Bruce for whatever's going on in his head right now.]
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(Everyone screaming, running, Tony's voice trying to break through the red haze in his mind--
"You're Bruce Banner!")
Bruce takes in a shuddering breath and tries to stop his trembling.]
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...Bruce, talk to me. Not about - whatever you're thinking of, just talk to me.
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[(Looking out from the quinjet, looking at two figures in the distance, one of them suddenly coming in so close, so fast--
Her hands, cold and icy, fingertips pressed against his temples as her eyes turned red and so did his world.)
He moves his hand, not really sure what he wanted to do - rub his cheek, scratch an itch, gesture, something - but he knocks against the teacup instead and it spills, hot tea splashing onto him, making him flinch and jerk away. It's probably a good thing the jumpsuits have long sleeves because otherwise he would have gotten some burns.]
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This does mean he's going to get a shrimp fussing over him with napkins.]
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Sorry, I-- [Sorry, sorry, sorry. That's all he can say, can do. Everything he does is an apology; he's shaped his fucking life into an apology. But it won't be enough. It'll never be enough.
His breathing quickens a little as Bruce struggles to just not lose it right there and then. It's a dream, it should be just a dream but he's had the doubts and the proof is telling him otherwise but he doesn't want to believe but what if, what if.]
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[Just going to finish cleaning him up as best as he can.]
You should probably wash these soon if you don't want them to stain.
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[Bruce feels like a child, like he's ten and lost and still trying so hard to understand why everything around him was happening the way it was. It's all he can do to just keep Cherryblod's words in mind as he clumsily gets out of the chair he's sitting on, staring at the stains on his jumpsuit and looking totally lost on what to do with them.]
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[He's kind of worried about leaving Bruce alone at the moment, for any reason.]
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[The response is fast--too fast, as if its coming out on instinct rather than anything else. And that's really not too far from the truth.
Nobody can help him with the problems that he has.]
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[Okay, so he can't help, but he'd feel better knowing Bruce wasn't about to have a panic attack in the hallway.]
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[The 'no' is already wanting to come out but he can't voice it out somehow, and it stays there as Bruce just--pauses, all the uncertainty coming back to him once more. It shows pretty clearly on his face, too.]
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Would it make things better or worse if I hugged you right now?
just hug him pls
Kay
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[Cherryblod rubs his back, trying to be soothing.]
It's alright. You're here, and you're with me, and no one is trying to hurt you.
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But he left her behind. He left that entire life behind, and that should be better and the life in his dreams had been better and now--
Bruce lets out a choked sound and squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to not lose it entirely. He doesn't deserve this - being alive, this sort of comfort, even the people here who depend on him. He's always been a mess and that clearly isn't going to change.]
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[He knows this might fall on deaf ears again, even as he continues to hold Bruce and stroke his back. But he has to at least try.]
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He can only shake his head, emotions and words caught in his throat and refusing to come out. He just... he just needs a moment more, Cherryblod. He'll be alright. Somehow.]
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Then there's really nothing for him to do but keep hugging Bruce and wait for him to calm down by himself. He wishes he was more useful - could actually get through to his friend so this doesn't just happen again.
But, there's no way. He's tried everything he's thought of.]
Shhh.
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