interstellar5555 | ☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 1

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☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 1

Who: Everyone that isn't an opt out!
What: Naomi Rivers throws a terrible holiday party.
When: December 7th, 2054
Where: Naomi's ocean side mansion.
Warnings: Violence, poisoning, various murder attempts, mind control, general uncomfortable lack of consent. Also, probably drug use. Maybe sex? Who knows what you'll get up to.

“I will burn for you;
Feel pain for you.
I will twist the knife 
and bleed my aching heart,
And tear it apart.”

☆I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE

The first two hours of the solstice party are surprisingly normal. Members of both labels arrive by private sky shuttle, and are invited into the ballroom for food and drink. It’s even more surprising when both Lesedi Santiago and Edward Blanche arrive as well, and spent most of that first period speaking quietly in a nearby lounge area. Lesedi’s body guards and Juno watch the space around them, keeping anyone of lesser important from interrupting what looks to be quite the serious discussion.

After food, the ballroom stage is taken over by a number of increasingly impressive entertainment pieces. It seems to be obligatory for everyone to stay and watch (not that it’s a struggle – the talent involved is unmistakeable), but not long into it Lesedi and Edward can be seen disappearing outside together, and show no immediate signs of returning.

And that’s when Naomi Rivers takes the stage.

To the Virgo that have heard it before, the song is more viscerally familiar than anything you’ve only heard once should be, and it awakens the ideas that were implanted there the night before. You have a job to do here, tonight. One that is only fair – almost righteous. Lesedi Santiago and her ilk will suffer for her transgressions.

The performances end, and everyone is released out to the rest of the grounds, to mingle and celebrate at their leisure. While things may seem civil on the surface, beneath that something dark is brewing. You gradually begin to notice that almost none of the more veteran members of either label are present.

► BALLROOM: The central nexus of the party, the ballroom is the location of the buffet table, the stage, and the dance floor. There will be music available all night, even after the official “performances” have ended. There are tables set up around the edges of the room for eating and relaxing.

► LOUNGE: Where Lesedi and Edward were having their meeting earlier, the lounge is filled with comfortable chairs, classic art, and a large, ornate fireplace. If you figure out who to ask, there are a number of chemical vices available to all guests.

► BALCONIES: There is a generous series of balconies that line the exterior of the upper floor. The ocean can be seen from one side and the gardens can be seen from the other.

► GUEST ROOMS: Down the halls from the ballroom there are a few generous guest bedrooms that have been left open for use.

► GARDENS: Out towards the back there are a wide variety of plants, and a well kept stone path and manmade waterfall. The plant life is on the sedate side due to the winter, but it’s still green.

► OUTDOOR POOL: There’s a pool out front with a shallow and a deep end. The water is clear and artificially warmed.

☆OOC CONSIDERATIONS

Please remember that any attempted assassinations are meant to remain covert, and if your character is incapable of being stealthy then you must assume that any attempts you make are happening towards the end of the evening – let’s say around 11PM. The spell compelling people to do this does not want a riot or a bloodbath – what it wants is for people to die before the rest of the group can realize that anything is even going on. Of course, this isn’t exactly going to work out, but if you are finding yourself getting into the realm of intense physical violence you might want to stop and slow down a little.

Virgo members that didn’t hear the song the night before are free from any compulsions, and so are all members of Pride. If non-mind controlled characters start clueing in to what’s going on and start trying to evacuate in large numbers, that is where you’ll want to wrap up threads and wait for Part 2 of the log, which will contain the end results and will be triggered by any large amount of chaos.

If any characters attempt to escape earlier in the evening, they’ll find that the shuttles have all been grounded, and wandering in the woodland nearby just seems to result in them getting lost and ending up back at the mansion. It’s a real pickle.

If you’ve got any question about what’s going on please leave them on the original plot post and they’ll get answered! The opt out event will be posted ASAP.

“I will lie for you;
Beg and steal for you.
I will crawl on hands 
and knees until you see:
You're just like me.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Tiger starts to look self conscious, and lowers his shirt. Is the gem related to the...the thing he did? And was that really all him?

Though slowly, it starts to dawn on him. A giant woman with pink hair? His memories of his mom are so faint, and seem like they must be second hand...but yet, that fits.]

Is...Is she my...

[He trails off, and looks up at Greg with wide, vulnerable eyes.]

[ Greg stares at Tiger a moment. This can't be right. It doesn't make any sense. They've missed something, or they made an assumption somewhere--it just doesn't add up.

Yet, too many things are fitting into place. Everything seems pointing in this direction, no matter how bizarre and ridiculous it seems.

Tiger's looking at him, waiting for an answer that Greg just doesn't have. He realizes he's shaking. He's wrong, he has to be, this isn't real. ]

I--I mean, I... I don't know...

[Greg's lack of meaningful response allows Tiger's mental state to go on cascading forward without him. His mom is kind of a sensitive subject. His mom is the root of a lot of his problems.]

My mom died when I was born.

[He can't say the words without tears beginning to pour again, taking a step back in emotional pain.]

It...It was because of me. My dad hated me for it! He's hated me my whole life!

[The idea that any other reality could be true is simultaneously staggering and heart breaking. So much of who he is and how he got here has been based about that resentment, that shame...and everything that happened because of it.]

[ They talked about this, once before. It's something that eats away at Tiger, he knows, something that's shaped this angry and frightened kid into who he is. This is the root of it.

Your dad doesn't know what he's missing.

Who is he? Who's this guy that Tiger thinks hates him? Well--Greg knows, the man's famous but--he's...? ]

Tiger... [ His voice is small--gentle, but almost afraid. He doesn't want to hurt Tiger with the question, but more than that, he's afraid of the answer. ] ...what... what can you tell me about your dad?

[The question takes him back a little bit. Part of him, born out of the deep knot of anger and frustration in his chest, wants to demand why Greg thinks that's a good thing to be asking him right now. Why he thinks it's his right to ask. But there is a stronger bridge of trust in Greg that he's managed to build over that void, and he's trying to keep it from crumbling. After a flash of anger, he settles, and tries to respond to him earnestly. Even if it hurts.]

He...he's a musician. He did...a lot of rock stuff. I think...he had a band but...but his solo act is, um...Johnny Diamond. That was his stage name. I think...I think he's retired now.

[He thinks? Shouldn't he know? Part of him tries to argue that he doesn't care about anything his dad does, but is it really that easy...?]

[ He thinks. He doesn't know. There can be reasons for that, sure. They're estranged. Tiger doesn't like him, he doesn't like Tiger. It could make sense.

Yeah, right.

One hand massages at his scalp under his hair, trying very hard to keep it together. ]

When was the last time you saw him?

[Tiger freezes. He's trying to come up with an answer but nothing comes to mind. It's not exactly like they had any regular holiday meetings or anything. But even before that, he doesn't even have a guess.]

I...I dunno. Years ago. He's just...drunk all the time. He left as soon as...as soon as he could. He doesn't care...

[ All of it makes sense, on paper, sure. You hear about stories like this all the time. He shouldn't be making assumptions, it's all so vague because it's hard on Tiger to remember. ]

You really don't... have any other memories of him?

No...I don't know...

[He hiccups a sob, the tears rolling again. It's like he's been chased into a corner, and doesn't know how to deal with it. If it hadn't already happened so literally, it'd seem like he was shrinking with the pain of it all.]

Tiger, I...

[ This is the stupidest idea he's ever had. ]

I think your dad...

[ How completely disconnected from reality do you have to be to even think something like this? ]

He might...

[ Sure he's seen some strange things lately but there's nothing, absolutely nothing to justify anything so patently absurd. ]

...not be real?

[Tiger can't really believe that Greg is saying this either. It's beyond crazy, and his first reaction is to become defensively angry, latching on to the completely wrong parts of the suggestion as some kind of distraction. What is Greg saying? That he made this up? That this major, formative event in his life was just a hallucination.]

What is that supposed to mean?

[It comes out in a yell, the kid bristling angrily and clenching his fists. Tears continue to roll down his cheeks.]

Do you think I just made this up? That I'm mad about stuff that isn't even real?!

We've been having weird memories.

[ He's speaking softly, to himself as much as Tiger. ]

They don't make sense, they don't fit anywhere. If what--if Multiverse is right, if they're real, then something... has to be...

[ His head throbs, exhaustion overtakes him. Something has to give, and it's Greg. He sits heavily on the bathroom floor, suddenly unable to look at Tiger, unable to think of much of anything but how everything is very confusing, and he's just too stupid to get it. ]

Edited 2015-12-14 20:43 (UTC)

[Tiger's shoulders sink a little, relaxing as Greg appears to give up. Good...Good! He doesn't even know what he's talking about, suggesting something like that. He doesn't know anything about his dad because his dad is never around. He's drunk, and stupid, and mean to him. His entire life has been based around proving him wrong - around beating him.

He can't not be real. That would mean that nothing about him is real, and then what does he do? He doesn't have anything. He already pretty much doesn't.

Why is the him he remembers so much better than him.

He pulls away and gets into the bathtub again, curling up with the pillow and facing his back towards Greg. He's fuming about it, somehow. He can't stop thinking about how mad he is. At least, until the urge to cry comes back even harder than before and he finds himself sobbing again, more and more miserably.]

[ Tiger's crying again. That--that's not good. That's something he needs to do something about, isn't it? He ought to... say...

This is his fault. He hurt this kid, again. He keeps letting this kid trust him, and all he does is keep getting his hopes up before letting him down. He's going to get them both in trouble. All his stupid ideas do is make things worse. Better to stay over here.

So the sobbing echoes in the bathroom, for a few minutes, as dread and defeat sink its way deeper into Greg. Right. He's no father. He's awful at this, he should have remembered from the start. All he's good at is... all that ever makes him feel better is... ]

My darling son, I remember when
I would sing to you, and I would do it again
Beloved child, remember this too
In this world of stars, there's no one like you...

[ The words drift into his mind, like an old lullaby forgotten. He's not even thinking of the meaning there, just the wistful, nostalgic, soothing feeling they bring. Whenever he last heard this, it made him feel so safe, so warm... ]

[It's impossible to know what he wants or needs right now. However angry Greg's suggestion made him, part of him wants just as badly for him to come and comfort him now, instead of just laying here and crying. But that's so stupid? He can't keep pushing them away and expecting them to come for him regardless.

His sobs only begin to quiet when Greg starts singing, first out of confusion, and then out of some strangely hypnotic feeling. Why is he doing that? It's...it's weird, and...

He falls silent, small hiccups of lingering emotion the only disruption, now. It sounds familiar to him, somehow, in a way that seems to break his heart and sooth it at the same time.

Dear old dad...

He doesn't start singing, but he remember the notes and the words somehow. The hiccups fade now, too, but he stays silent. He doesn't know what to do or say. He doesn't know anything anymore.

Maybe he's right.]

[ Greg can't remember the words from here. He's sure there's more, but they're lost on him. Maybe he skipped some? It certainly feels incomplete.

He spares a moment of pause, puzzling over it, before falling into the most obvious solution: coming up with what's next on his own. ]

Precious child, do you recall
We would laugh and sing, while the rain would fall
No matter the weather, I promise it's true
Sunshine never shines as bright as you

[Tiger wraps his arms around his belly, sinking into himself and the pillow, phasing the rest of the world out. Everything hurts so much. It keeps hurting so much. And everything he does that takes him further away from who he thought he was also takes him further away from having any idea who he is. He just feels so empty inside. Like he's breaking apart.

Which is maybe why the song finds its way out of him, anyway. Feeling so distant from everything, he also feels more distant from possibilities of fear and humiliation. With Greg singing in the dimness of the bathroom, it's the only thing he can think about.

His voice is soft and so incredibly frail when he sings. Does it even really count as singing at all? All the same, the words still come, halting and wavering.]

Dear old dad...remember when...you would sing to me...
We could do it again...?
Dear old dad...

[He trails off, his heart clenching inside of him. Even as the words come to mind, he can't sing them. It hurts too much.

He falls silent.]

[ That--those are the words, aren't they. Greg still can't remember the rest of it clearly, but as Tiger sings them, he's sure they're right, not made up like his. It's happening again, they both know words to a song. Isn't that strange? Doesn't that make no sense at all? Greg can't even recall where he remembered this from, just like with the last time this happened.

Exhaustion slows his movements, weighing him down as much as possible, as he pushes himself to his feet. ]

Remember how...

[ Even at a mansion's size, the bathroom isn't that big, but the walk over feels far greater than it is. Isn't it silly, how much effort he's going to, for a kid who doesn't want him around--for someone who doesn't even like him?

Because of course Tiger doesn't like him. When they're together, all the kid does is cry. All Greg ever does is hurt him. Why even bother, if it just keeps making him worse? ]

You would sit on my shoulders
well... how 'bout it now...?

[ Greg sits on the bathtub's edge. This is awkward. He's invading the kid's space. He looks like a creeper, or a maniac. Or even a murderer. Who's to say he won't end up really and actually hurting him, like everyone else seems to want to, if he doesn't get away?

He tucks his feet in the bath, behind Tiger. He can't remember any more words. They're in there, at the tip of his tongue, but he just can't get them out.]

[He feels really weak all of a sudden, like something about this has just drained him completely. His heart is aching and his head is full of fog - right now, it would probably take him more than a couple seconds to remember his own name. He doesn't react badly to Greg's presence. He doesn't really react at all.

His fingers clench around the edge of the pillow. The words seem to come reflexively - it's only without really thinking about it that he can manage to get through them at all, even at a mumble.]

Dear old dad...I was wondering why...
As I get older...now that days keep going on by...
Dear old dad...remember this, too...

[He trails off again, shutting his eyes tightly. All he can think is that he wants to remember - that he wants so badly to go home.]

[ The images are hazy, as they come to him: a seaside cliff somewhere with a sunset, the cramped inside of a familiar car on a rainy night, morning light breaking over a concrete lot covered in watermelons. They come and go too quickly for context, only leaving behind a deep, miserable ache. Where they were, what he was doing there, he can't be sure. What he does know, is something important happened in those places. Some events, deeply vital to him, happened there, and he can't get them back.

He feels unbearably lonely. ]

In this whole wide world...

[ He's not so much singing, at this point, as he is whispering, with a lilt in his voice. His hand reaches out, then pulls back. Greg's caught in a push and pull, knowing he's making a mistake, another one, that he can't keep doing this over and over, he needs to learn his lesson sometime.

But he's so scared, and alone. They both are. ]

There's no one like... [ It's awkward, kneeling in a bathtub for a hug from behind. Yet, it's not even the strangest that's happened between them, is it...? What's one more... ] ...you...

[When Tiger feels Greg there with him, he can't resist the idea any longer. He needs some kind of comfort, and right then and there, it doesn't feel like anyone but Greg can give him what he needs.

He turns around to accept the embrace, despite all of his protests before. He doesn't understand, how this feeling and this love can be so close and so far away from him at the same time. Like they're both just prisoners in their own minds.

He curls up against him in bathtub, a quiet sob on his breath. He doesn't want to let go.]

[ Greg can't understand why he's here. It feels like his body did all this on instinct, calling on reflexes from a numbed part of his mind. Even as the fear and love overwhelm him and he blinks out tears, there's a sense of disconnect between his body and his mind.

He never planned on this, never wanted anything like it. It's not fair for him to be pulled into these alien feelings, caught between the urge to do something without any knowledge of what or how. It's not fair to Tiger--after all this boy's been through, he deserves someone who knows what they're doing. Instead, this immature, lost idiot is the one bumbling through a haze, trying to help. What did Tiger do to end up with this mess?

His breathing shudders as he tucks the shrunken teen under his chin. He's so scared he's going to break this poor child, but he's even more terrified of letting go of this source of the most true, terrifying thing he's ever experienced.

There's no telling how long they clutched each other in that bathtub, silent but for crying, before Greg finally breaks it with a low murmur. ]

Is it all right... if I ask you something...?

[Despite the way he'd lashed out before, Tiger doesn't seem to have any more of that left in him. He's quiet for a moment before speaking up, his voice quiet and uncertain.]

Y-Yeah...

Is it all right if I know your real name?

[ After what they've been through, calling him "Tiger" has started to feel so... stilted. ]

["That is my real name," is what he's tempted to snap. It's what he's argued every time that someone has brought this up before. He never cared about his given name - it was chosen by two people that didn't have any place in his life, and that he didn't even care about. The name he picked for himself was way more important.

But lately...it's started to feel less that way. Like Tiger is a silly nickname he uses, a person he is on stage. Like people using it to refer to him is a layer of distance purposefully set between them.

He doesn't know. It makes him upset to think about. Tiger Universe was supposed to be his identity, one that he picked out for himself and liked. Now he's not so sure.

He speaks quietly.]

I never liked it...I didn't like going by what he decided to name me. It...It wasn't fair. That he'd get to pick something like that, when he didn't even...

[He trails off.]

☆TRACK V: I WILL TWIST THE KNIFE PT. 1

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I JUST THOUGHT OF A SWEET ALBUM COVER

CALLIN' IT WATER WITCH