David Lalonde ϕ tortileGhostwriter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tortileghostwriter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-05-19 06:06 am
tortileghostwriter) wrote in towerofanimus2012-05-19 06:06 am
Entry tags:
another day and i could've gone mad [open]
Characters: David and you!
Setting: Hallways and floor 28, specify which in the subject line.
Format: Starting action, will match.
Summary: David's ...really not coping well with recent events and revelations. At all. He's practically falling apart, really. He decides to go to the music room to try creating...something to clear his head. As much as it's possible for a possessed kid to clear his head, anyway.
Warnings: Probably language in threads, potentially mindfuck and mild insanity. Also David being an arrogant prick.
[He knew that he hadn't escaped the labyrinth without a fresh set of mental scars.
Though, that much would have been obvious to anyone who knew him. David was barely keeping himself together--stressing the word barely. The maze and the "game" had been one thing, but the punishment...he was hardly sleeping, and when he did, it was fitful. What he saw still terrified him, still enraged him--but like hell would he admit it. The whole thing had been shown to the network, it wasn't as though he needed to say it even if he wanted to.
And then the network post from one of their oh-so-gracious "benefactors"...he hadn't contributed to the discussion, but he'd read it.
He still refused to believe the bulk of it.
Even as she spoke incessantly--still offering facetious comforts and coaxing, cajoling platitudes while trying to encourage him to lash out, or to trust her, to give in to her once again. He knew better.
He muttered refusals and demands for Yggdrasil to shut up--apparently to himself--in an attempt to get her to stop, if only for the moment. David looked around himself fitfully, still having an apparently one-sided conversation. That damnable twisting in his chest was as bad as ever, and his shadow was writhing even more than usual.]
A long climb up from here....no, nononono we had an arrangement Yggdrasil, we had a deal, leave me be, NO!
[It continues rather like that. He starts up the stairs--quickly, still apparently talking to himself. After a while he arrives in the music room. After a bit of digging, he had a pile of--fairly recent!--electronica equipment scrounged together. Synthesizer, turntable, sampling keyboard, drum machine, vocoder(not really his area, but it might be useful to experiment with)...not a bad spread. Not bad at all. He can work with this.
He cycles through the sampling keyboard's loops and picks one, adjusting some levels, running the sample through the synth to add to it, filter it, adjust it a bit further further, pitching it just right...after a few moments more of tinkering, he has the foundation of something he likes. A bassline comes together.
David moves on from there. To his slight surprise, Yggdrasil is speaking a bit less--and when she does speak, he's finding it easier to ignore her. It won't last, but for the moment, he welcomes the reprieve.
It won't do if his hands keep shaking, and more than a few sour notes are produced due to mistakes before he finally gets it under control. The failed notes are cleared, and fresher beats are cycled in to replace them. His head bobs to the beat, slowly, as he continues working.
Care to interrupt him?]
Setting: Hallways and floor 28, specify which in the subject line.
Format: Starting action, will match.
Summary: David's ...really not coping well with recent events and revelations. At all. He's practically falling apart, really. He decides to go to the music room to try creating...something to clear his head. As much as it's possible for a possessed kid to clear his head, anyway.
Warnings: Probably language in threads, potentially mindfuck and mild insanity. Also David being an arrogant prick.
[He knew that he hadn't escaped the labyrinth without a fresh set of mental scars.
Though, that much would have been obvious to anyone who knew him. David was barely keeping himself together--stressing the word barely. The maze and the "game" had been one thing, but the punishment...he was hardly sleeping, and when he did, it was fitful. What he saw still terrified him, still enraged him--but like hell would he admit it. The whole thing had been shown to the network, it wasn't as though he needed to say it even if he wanted to.
And then the network post from one of their oh-so-gracious "benefactors"...he hadn't contributed to the discussion, but he'd read it.
He still refused to believe the bulk of it.
Even as she spoke incessantly--still offering facetious comforts and coaxing, cajoling platitudes while trying to encourage him to lash out, or to trust her, to give in to her once again. He knew better.
He muttered refusals and demands for Yggdrasil to shut up--apparently to himself--in an attempt to get her to stop, if only for the moment. David looked around himself fitfully, still having an apparently one-sided conversation. That damnable twisting in his chest was as bad as ever, and his shadow was writhing even more than usual.]
A long climb up from here....no, nononono we had an arrangement Yggdrasil, we had a deal, leave me be, NO!
[It continues rather like that. He starts up the stairs--quickly, still apparently talking to himself. After a while he arrives in the music room. After a bit of digging, he had a pile of--fairly recent!--electronica equipment scrounged together. Synthesizer, turntable, sampling keyboard, drum machine, vocoder(not really his area, but it might be useful to experiment with)...not a bad spread. Not bad at all. He can work with this.
He cycles through the sampling keyboard's loops and picks one, adjusting some levels, running the sample through the synth to add to it, filter it, adjust it a bit further further, pitching it just right...after a few moments more of tinkering, he has the foundation of something he likes. A bassline comes together.
David moves on from there. To his slight surprise, Yggdrasil is speaking a bit less--and when she does speak, he's finding it easier to ignore her. It won't last, but for the moment, he welcomes the reprieve.
It won't do if his hands keep shaking, and more than a few sour notes are produced due to mistakes before he finally gets it under control. The failed notes are cleared, and fresher beats are cycled in to replace them. His head bobs to the beat, slowly, as he continues working.
Care to interrupt him?]
forgive me i didn't retrieve my HoL copy for this, it's going to be bad
She first appeared to me in my dreams, years ago...[he stops. his voice usually sounded...hollow, it was normal now for it to echo. this was different. he knew it worsened if he said the word house, and if he spoke of
minotaurs and labyrinthsand the like it was worse still, but...When he spoke of her to others, it was the same as the latter. Not hollow at all.
It was as if a growl had filled the void at the edge of his words, as if a terrible beast was lurking beneath the surface.This can be taken as a contrivance on the author's part, having come so far in the work but still wishing to avoid David's confrontation of the matter with outside help for as long as possible. Thus, a barrier of communication is constructed. Alternatively, or perhaps additionally, it can be acknowledged as a representation of the emptiness of his words and the barely concealed rage that drives him--]Shut up.
[he says it harshly and quietly, clearly not speaking to John. He isn't asking, he's demanding.]
... I hadn't expected that.
No worries, I haven't read mine in quite a while anyhow.
[Either way, it's obvious David can't explain what's going on without intervention. Time to go for Plan B.]
...Can you write it down?
Excellent.
no subject