Nov 1; [There's a lot of noise coming from Terry's room. He's usually more considerate than that, but he's angry and hungover and tired and it's the only way he knows how to chase out whatever's going on in his mind.]
["Join some super hero army?" More distortion here. "You've got to be kidding"]
[Reverb? No. He bangs a little on the drumpad in frustration. "I'm your son!" Play the whole thing as it is, maybe he can figure out what's missing. "What are you so afraid of anyway..." It needs thrust, drive.]
[He looks down at the knife in his chest, horrified, "You're afraid..." Maybe it's the percussion, maybe it just... Maybe it needs... "...Afraid you're gonna kill me." A kick. Something to really drive the anger home. The rage.]
[He plays it again, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't--]
["Okay. I'll go."]
Nov 2-5; [Terry's usually pretty chill, pretty relaxed. Someone has to hit his buttons to get him mad.]
[Not so much lately. Ever since Carnivalgate he's been tense, frustrated. Coiled up like a particularly inefficient timebomb ready to go off at any time. Being on lockdown doesn't improve that any, and being unable to perform means he has no outlet for that tension. Occasionally over the days, he bangs away at his music but more than that he spends a lot of time in the bars in HQ and getting "lost" in the building. Getting hauled off to see Lesedi after a couple of days seems to curb how often he goes missing, but he's still surly, not getting enough sleep, and seemingly perpetually hungover.]
[And on the 5th he's going to be extra pissy after having to cancel a couple of things. Happy birthday loser.]
OTA - murder-ish cw, alcohol cw, terry is an awful angsty baby cw
[There's a lot of noise coming from Terry's room. He's usually more considerate than that, but he's angry and hungover and tired and it's the only way he knows how to chase out whatever's going on in his mind.]
["Join some super hero army?" More distortion here. "You've got to be kidding"]
[Reverb? No. He bangs a little on the drumpad in frustration. "I'm your son!" Play the whole thing as it is, maybe he can figure out what's missing. "What are you so afraid of anyway..." It needs thrust, drive.]
[He looks down at the knife in his chest, horrified, "You're afraid..." Maybe it's the percussion, maybe it just... Maybe it needs... "...Afraid you're gonna kill me." A kick. Something to really drive the anger home. The rage.]
[He plays it again, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't--]
["Okay. I'll go."]
Nov 2-5;
[Terry's usually pretty chill, pretty relaxed. Someone has to hit his buttons to get him mad.]
[Not so much lately. Ever since Carnivalgate he's been tense, frustrated. Coiled up like a particularly inefficient timebomb ready to go off at any time. Being on lockdown doesn't improve that any, and being unable to perform means he has no outlet for that tension. Occasionally over the days, he bangs away at his music but more than that he spends a lot of time in the bars in HQ and getting "lost" in the building. Getting hauled off to see Lesedi after a couple of days seems to curb how often he goes missing, but he's still surly, not getting enough sleep, and seemingly perpetually hungover.]
[And on the 5th he's going to be extra pissy after having to cancel a couple of things. Happy birthday loser.]