reverie ⚡️ overflow

[striketwice]

reverie ⚡️ overflow

feel free to move threads over yourself
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( code edited from supersuits )

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[vecna]

[It’s funny, he thinks, as he wanders down this fleeting path of memory. As a child, Alec could not be more different than himself when he was those same ages. Henry was a quiet one, a solitary one, and it’s more likely he would have found himself in the unwanted crosshairs of a kid like Alec rather than seek his company.

But it’s still interesting to see. The fond memories here are laced with a heavy, cloying sense of guilt and gloom, and even Henry’s not sure he could prise them apart if ever given a reason to try.

…Could he say the same for himself? His parents would buy him an overlarge cake for his birthdays. His sister would drag him down the hall of their new house and laugh, trying to show him the new places she’d discovered after they’d moved in. Family outings in the summer. Bright faces in the sunlight. These are supposed be fond memories, warm ones, but they are so laden with discontent that he’s sure they died on the vine a long, long time ago.

He supposes it’s the same for Alec. He understands.

Eventually, the path ends. Once darkness is all that surrounds him, Henry is out of Alec’s head, and they’re back in “reality” again, sitting on his bed in the man’s room. He opens his eyes.]

Alec?

[(Henry's nostril is bleeding red.)]

Welcome back. How do you feel?

[striketwice]

[ After a second, Alec's eyes blink open. He can feel a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes, but it's not the worst he's ever had. No, what's more immediately apparent is the hollow, gnawing feeling in his chest, as thay day decades gone is made suddenly fresh again, suddenly raw. It's a miracle that he didn't come to with tears in his eyes.

He scrubs his hands over his face, trying to will the sensation away. At best, he's able to shove it down to deal with later. It'll have to do. ]

Been better.

[ He glances up at Henry, noting the bloody nose. ]

You got a little something on your face.

[vecna]

[He lifts his brow, gently. Henry doubts he’s as steady as he presents himself; not after a memory like that. It’s like opening a fresh new wound — he would know. It says something for his stubbornness? His conviction? His acting skills? That he’s playing all off as nothing.]

Hm?

[He touches right below his nose, and his fingers wet with familiar warmth.]

Oh. That’s a side-effect. Don't worry. It’s normal, though it takes so much less effort in this place to start bleeding.

[striketwice]

[ Alec is well-practiced in keeping himself together in the company of others. He'll fall apart when he's good and ready - which is to say when next he's alone. ]

Less effort? What do you mean by that?

[vecna]

I mentioned once that this prison’s made me weaker? That includes my endurance when it comes to using my powers. Too much, and I… tire. Easily.

[Turns his hand to face Alec, bloodied fingertips wiggling ever so slightly.]

This is the first sign of strain.

[striketwice]

[ He arches his brows, considering the ramifications of that. ]

So you're just living with a mini version of whatever the hell happened to us in that elevator?

[vecna]

You mean with our powers being dampened? I guess so.

[warden thought he’d be too OP or something ig]

It’s not ideal. But it’s better than not having my abilities at all.

[striketwice]

I didn't even know that kind of shit could happen.

[ He was so!! Fucking!! MAD!! ]

[vecna]

Upsetting, isn’t it? Like losing a limb.

[It wasn’t terribly jarring for Henry, though. Even if he, too, hated it.]

[striketwice]

[ He crosses his arms, and considering the way he's sitting against the headboard, he looks like a little kid about to pout. ]

I could have picked that fucking lock.

[vecna]

[Oh my god. Like a chid. like Henry has any room to talk]

The Warden’s not going to make it that easy for us. Nothing here has been.

[striketwice]

Yeah, I get that now. The stories don't really convey how royally fucked we are.

[vecna]

No. But in the end, it doesn’t change anything — we’re all going home, one way or another, Alec.

[striketwice]

One way or another, huh? I'd prefer "in on piece" at the very least.

[vecna]

[He looks a little amused.]

If I get my old body back— [weird calling his Vecna body his “old” body, now] —a few injuries don’t mean much. It'd be a small price to pay.

[For YOU Henry, what about everyone else.]

[striketwice]

Is that your preference? Looking like something that crawled out of a swamp?

[vecna]

[w o w half of fandom wants a piece of his undead vecnussy, sir]

This body’s weak. What advantage is there to that?

[striketwice]

[ get out ]

Two functional hands, for one.

[vecna]

[incredible.]

Both hands were plenty functional.

[striketwice]

Yeah, maybe if you were living under someone's bed. Tying your shoes? Not so much.

[vecna]

[...]

I didn't wear shoes.

[striketwice]

[ An amused snort, though it's clear that Alec has reached the end of his rather frayed rope. He's ready to be done. ]

I stand corrected.

Anyway, if you still want some of that rice you can stick it in the microwave. Better not let it go to waste after all that hard work I did.

[vecna]

[Hm. Guess that’s his cue.]

I wouldn’t dare.

[And Henry stands, straightening with his default little smile on his face.]

And thank you. For letting me take a look around.

[In that head of yours.]

[striketwice]

Uh-huh. Just don't get used to it, okay?

[ But for whatever it's worth, Alec is probably more willing to share in a verbal sense now. ]

[vecna]

Of course not.

[Rarities don’t happen often, after all.

But he’ll leave Alec alone with his thoughts for now, turning to leave soon after.]