Locked in a Room

[dishevelment]

Who: Everyone stuck in Pride HQ
What: This load of crap.
When: Nov. 1-5
Where Pride HQ
Warnings: Pg-13 minimum because Carnies. Tag if it gets over that.


Everyone got the same call-- and now we're all stuck in HQ with no hint of release in sight.

The reason? No one knows.

How are you coping?

Comments

B - early in the week?

[traumatizing]

[Terry rolls out of bed in the afternoon, which is unusual for him, but it's not like they have anything to do anyway so fuck it. He comes out to get some coffee and peeks at what Koumei's drawing.]

What's that?

[Ugh talking ugh morning hangover voice.]

Sure!

[dishevelment]

....Birds.

[Koumei shrugged, and showed Terry his haphazard sketch. The lines on the page were precise and firm, like the artist knew what he was doing, and formed the shape of a pigeon with the meticulously bred plumage of a show bird whose pedigree was well documented by the professional breeders of the bird world. By no means was it a regular street pigeon, although there were scratchy details that resembled the more common bird in the white space surrounding.]

I don't know what they expect us to do in here, Terry. This kind of environment is terrible for getting the creative juices going.

[traumatizing]

You could get started on your portfolio for National Geographic. This is really good.

[He doesn't know anything about birds or art, but that certainly looks like the handiwork of a guy who's good at both.]

[dishevelment]

You really think so?

[He glanced between the young man and the sketch, almost disbelieving Terry's words.]

It's just a hobby, [Koumei said finally, shrugging awkwardly.] I like birds, and it's not like we can leave the building right now.

[traumatizing]

I mean I'm no art critic, but it looks great to me.

[He hands the sketch back, though he's still glancing at it with a surprised and impressed look on his face. Who knew Koumei had that kind of talent?]

Funny though. Drawing birds when we're all being caged.

[dishevelment]

[Unfortunately, birds were about the only thing Koumei could draw. Specifically pigeons, as well-- he was almost like a man obsessed.]

Perhaps, [he commented mildly, visibly slumping at Terry's reminder of their curret imprisonment.] I just miss them, that's all.

[traumatizing]

I can't do much about that, but I make a pretty good cup of coffee.

[He smiles tiredly and scrubs at his eyes.] You want one?

[dishevelment]

Please, [Koumei said, trying (and failing) to stifle the yawn that punctuated his reply.] That'd be very much appreciated-- the least we can do is be productive if we're going to be awake.

[traumatizing]

[Terry vanishes into the kitchen and comes back 10 minutes later with two coffees and an apple wedged in his mouth. He hands one off to Koumei and sits down next to him, already feeling more like a real human at them mere prospect of drinking coffee.]

[dishevelment]

[Koumei was sitting up by that point, and fighting valiantly against his mop of hair with a brush he had found somewhere in that mess. The least he could do was try to tidy himself up...and the scent of the coffee was enough to start perking him up.]

...That smells wonderful, Terry, [he said, offering the young man a tired smile.] Thank you for bringing it.

[traumatizing]

Better than you, at any rate. [He smiles playfully, but seriously. How does someone smoke enough to smell like a smoke stack.] You're welcome.

[dishevelment]

[By smoking non-stop, since sleep is impossible.]

Yeah...I should probably fix that sometime. [He gazed down at the scattered cigarette butts lying around. He had the grace to put them in disposable cups, cans, and other oddments, but that didn't help matters when there were so many of them.]

[traumatizing]

I'm surprised Garnet hasn't tried to throw you in the shower yet.

[Probably since it's pointless as long as they're stuck in the building. Koumei's gonna smoke just like Terry's gonna drink and make noise in his room. At least they're not the worst habits they could have.]

[dishevelment]

I think...she might actually be too busy with her own problems

[Like Koumei, Garnet was keeping her cards close to her chest, and he suspected that she was one who might not be relied upon if the strange happenings kept progressing. There were few he did feel comfortable even confiding in...and only one that he suspected would be any help to him.

He took an appreciative sip of his coffee.]

Nariko too-- though she's just worried about everyone after everything that's been happening lately.

[traumatizing]

I think everyone's kind of... Messed up. From more than just this lockdown.

[He takes a sip of his coffee, frowning. He'd be hesitant to say it out loud normally, but since Koumei brought up Garnet and Nariko it means he's noticed too. Honestly, all of them probably can; especially after the tour and then living together, it's hard not to get attuned to eachother's moods.]

[Terry sighs into his drink.] Wish there was something I could do about it.

[dishevelment]

We can just be here to support each other, really.

[A listless shrug. The unknown was never something he settled with comfortably, and that fact was made doubly so in the state of their apparent lockdown.]

....Say, Terry. You haven't been having any funny dreams lately, have you?

[traumatizing]

[He's never been a good liar, not even by omission, and it shows on his face that Koumei's struck something; a mix of surprise and wariness of him asking about something so specific that's been weighing on his mind these past few days.]

Funny dreams...? Like what?

[Maybe he just means amusing. That would sure be nice.]

[dishevelment]

Like things you wouldn't normally think about, or things that you've never studied but somehow understand.

[He kept the discourse neutral-- he didn't want to skew Terry's answer one way or the other, but Terry's reaction alone was nearly enough to confirm his suspicions.]

[traumatizing]

Nothing like that really. [Except that weird meeting he thought about at the carnival, but. That's not important.] Just home mostly, but... Different.

[His mom was gone. He doesn't know where or how, but it was his fault. Doesn't make sense. He hasn't spoken to them in years, but they're still together as far as he knows. Still fine.]

[Terry frowns thoughtfully at Koumei.] What have yours been about?

[Because it's a fair assumption he's been having weird dreams too if he's bringing this up.]

[dishevelment]

[A sigh. There was no avoiding it...]

Nothing much. Just things thatnlook like they're pulled straight from a historical drama.

[traumatizing]

A historical drama?

[Dude.]

[dishevelment]

[Dude. It's his dream.]

That's right, a historical drama-- probably with influences from the Wuxia genre, seeing how much of it seemed to be Feudal Chinese.

[Nevermind that he wasn't known to frequent the Wuxia genre or even pay attention to Three Kingdoms era dramas.]

[traumatizing]

[He squints] Could it be like, a past life or something?

[Not that Terry believes in past lives, and he looks like he's just heard an entire vat of bullshit come out of his own mouth, but it has to be something.]

[dishevelment]

Feudal China, with men who can almost pass for monsters?

[Terry, please. Let's be realistic here.]

[traumatizing]

Do you have any better ideas?