Getting to Be Too Much

[ceasetoexist]

Characters: Pokey Minch [AU] and you!
Setting: Floor 2 and Floor 14
Format: Prose starting, but I'll match you
Summary: The voices he's been hearing are starting to get to Pokey, and he's desperate to find a solution to it.
Warnings: Possible violent imagery due to auditory hallucinations.

Floor 2 - The Infirmary
[It just won't end.

The initial begging for help Pokey could do. It had been so faint and far away that his callousness was still more than sufficient to ignore it. To be annoyed by it more than bothered or disturbed. But over the days it grew. And grew. And grew. Until he could hear the voices plain and clear.

And hear everything they were going through.

He'd tried to ignore it another few days or so, but this didn't work as well. When he could recognize the voices, tell who they were - he could no longer ignore it. And for more than once he'd wished he'd never come to understand others or learn empathy. The voices weren't real, they couldn't be. Just like in Mayfield it had to be a kind of trick. Pokey just needed to find a way to beat it.

So if you're stopping by the infirmary today you'll find a 13 year old boy sticking whatever cotton balls and cotton swabs he can find in his ears. He knows the voices aren't coming from outside but maybe if he can trick himself into thinking he can't hear them he won't. This may damage the hell out of his ears too but hey. That's the price he'll happily pay if this works and someone can stop him.]

Floor 14 - Media Room
[If he just gets his mind off it, it won't bother him.

Pokey is sitting down on a beanbag chair, mindlessly playing one of the video games in front of him. It appears to be a platformer of some kind, though he doesn't care. He's at that point where he's paying so much attention to the game he isn't playing it at all. It's all just response at the actions going on in the game, and even though he seems to be doing alright his mind still isn't on the game at all.

It's on nothing at all.

He can't hear the voices begging with him, pleading with him for help. He's too busy playing a game. One of them is crying for help, asking over and over again why it's happening, their screams only barely louder than the sound of a sledgehammer falling again. And again. And again.

Pokey's too busy playing.

One of them belittles him, asking why he isn't doing anything. If he never cared in the first place and each statement feels like it's just as cutting as the whip Pokey can hear alongside it.

He's playing the game. He's in the zone with this. Nothing else matters.

One of them is just screaming in grief and pain and unable to comprehend why this is happening. No understanding of why they could be in pain, just that they are, and a belief that crying out to Pokey will make things better. So they cry in a wet, sobbing voice while something hot and wet sizzles and burns flesh in the back ground.

The game controller goes flying at the TV screen. Pokey isn't in the game anymore.]

Shut up! Shuuuuut uuuuup! You aren't even real!

[Pokey's tearing the controller out of the game system, twirling it over his head by the cord like a lasso before flinging it across the room in a rage.]

You aren't real and even if you were I couldn't do anything!

[He tries to tear the game console away from the TV, and when that fails he resorts to kicking at it. Again and again and again.]

Even if you were I couldn't do anything!

Comments

Floor 2

[lightofhumanity]

[chaos, technically, couldn't get sick, but he had noticed so many sick people wandering the Tower that he thought he'd try to offer his assistance at the normal clinic and not just the one that Shion ran. So, when chaos wandered in, he saw a boy stuffing an unhealthy amount of cotton swabs into his ears. He must have been suffering from auditory hallucinations too. Quickly, chaos walked up to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder, both to warm him up with his power and calm him down.]

I do not think those swabs will help your problem.

[ceasetoexist]

[The touch and the warmth surprise Pokey, but by this point the warmth isn't exactly unwelcome. Still, he leans out of the touch due to his own fear and disdain for being touched by others, even gently. He looks over his shoulder at chaos, grimacing, before shaking his head and pointing to his ears.

Sorry chaos. He can't hear a damn word you're saying with all those cotton swabs in there, and the fact that you're telling him they won't do any good isn't crossing his mind at the moment.]

[lightofhumanity]

[chaos let his arm fall to his side and nodded when Pokey shook his head. He would then try to remove one of the cotton swabs from his ear so that he could speak and be heard. Of course, if Pokey slapped his hand away, he would stop and go to other forms of communication, but if he didn't do anything, chaos would clear out one ear and speak again.]

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey doesn't slap chaos' hand away, though the idea of doing so does cross his mind. He pulls away instead as chaos attempts to take the swabs out and begins to take the swaps and cotton balls out of his ears himself, dropping them to the ground in disgust.]

Stupid idea anyway.

[He looks up at chaos, frowning a little bit.]

You want something?

[lightofhumanity]

No..I was merely going to tell you that stuffing your ears would not make your auditory hallucinations go away. I am glad that you have realized that it was a bad idea. Perhaps you should go to the infirmary if you are suffering from them.

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey goes quiet, as if listening to something. Whatever it is he hears, his face falls a little bit and he gives a half-hearted shrug before going back into a meaner look.]

Eh, I'm fine. It's just annoying is all. I don't need to see someone about it.

[Because he's afraid that at the end that would also involve talking to someone about it.]

[lightofhumanity]

[chaos smiles at the boy.]

There is nothing wrong with talking to people about your problems if it helps. If you want, I can lend you and ear for however long you want.

floor 14 i apologize because this will surely be a failure of a thread

[ghostytrainer]

[Still unable to hear anything beyond warped music and pained screams, John had taken to wandering the tower for the past few days, attempting to distract himself. It hadn't really worked much, but hey it was better than sitting in his room with nothing to focus on but that goddamn music.]

[At some point, he had found his way to the media room. He was vaguely tempted to try drowning out the music physically, like Mayfield had suggested the other day but the fear of permanently damaging his hearing ultimately pushes him away from the various musical devices in the room.]

[Instead, he curls up in a beanbag chair on the other side of the room and closes his eyes. Predictably, sleep does not come easily. It's too loud for that. But since it's been a day or so since the last time John managed to squeeze in a quick nap, eventually he drifts off...only to be awoken a couple of hours later by something hard and plastic smacking him right in the side of the head and jolting him awake.]

AHH! WHAT THE--?! [He sits upright, fixing his glasses and catching sight of the controller at his feet. Frowning, he picks it up and gets to his feet, shouting partially because he's cranky and irritable and partially because he has no concept of how loud he's talking.] ALRIGHT, WHO THE HELL THREW THIS?

Do not worry failure is a thing we may share together

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey is in no mood for dealing with others at the moment, let alone people shouting at him. What a jerk. It's not like Pokey threw something at him or anything. Not at all.

Pokey wheels on John, nearly snarling. Which is telling, considering he looks about as friendly as a pit bull at the moment anyway.]

Shut up! You just shut up too! Maybe if you didn't want to be hit by it you shouldn't have been there stupid!

hooray! ;w;

[ghostytrainer]

[John may not have been able to understand a word that was said, but the other boy's expression gets enough across. Well, sort of, anyway.]

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST SAID BUT I GET THE FEELING IT WASN'T AN APOLOGY. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS YOUR PROBLEM, DUDE?

Re: hooray! ;w;

[ceasetoexist]

Oh what's the matter?! Don't speak English?

[Pokey is just stomping towards John now, shoulders hunched like the little aggressive idiot he is.]

Well maybe you speak this!

[And he'll be moving to push John.]

[ghostytrainer]

[It's probably a good thing John didn't have his Dusknoir out right now. The overprotective reapermon would not have taken kindly to that little display. Not that John really does either. What the actual fuck is this guy's problem?]

[Talking obviously isn't going to solve this, so John does the one thing that makes sense to his sleep-deprived, irate brain.....he shoves Pokey back. Yes. This is exactly how you solve your problems, he's sure of it.]

WHAT WAS THAT FOR? AND SPEAK UP THIS TIME, I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE GODDAMN MUSIC. BUT IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE A PETULANT JACKASS FOR NO REASON, I THINK I DESERVE AN EXPLANATION.

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey just looks back at John, mouth draping agape a little bit. His anger is starting to go from burning ever so slightly to a full blaze. What is wrong with this jackass.

Pokey lunges at John, trying to grab him by his collar. His face is seething with rage, having turned red from anger as tears start to form in his eyes.]

They're screaming! THEY'RE SCREAMING! How can you not hear the screaming you jerk and you want to whine about some music no one can hear?!

Floor 14

[badend_replay]

Pokey!

[ Rika had been wanting to come and curl up on a beanbag chair, but heard yelling. Enough yelling to get her running down the stairs and onto the floor, taking off across the room to try to grab his arm and make a pitiful attempt to restrain him. ]

Pokey! Calm down!

Re: Floor 14

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey flails helplessly, trying to get away from Rika. From being restrained. His face is a mixture of fear and anger and....deep down. A little bit of relief.]

Can you hear them?

Can you hear them?

[You were from Mayfield too, Rika. If anyone else would hear them, it would be you.]

[badend_replay]

No, I do not hear anyone but you!

[ But this has her worried. He's the second person she's spoken to lately that seems to be hearing things... in his head? Her automatic assumption is this, given her experience with the Hinamizawa Syndrome. ]

Calm down! There is nothing to hear, Pokey!

[ceasetoexist]

I'm okay!

[He screams that, but Pokey is beginning to calm down. It still isn't easy, and he looks so frantic it's hard to take it at face value. Still, he's trying to calm his breathing. If the voices WERE real the one who would be most likely to hear them, after all, was Rika.]

I know that. I know. They aren't real. They aren't speaking. They aren't real.

[He just. Needs to tell himself that.]

[badend_replay]

[ She nods and releases him. Uncertain at first, then reminding herself that Pokey is from Mayfield. This sort of trick has been played before. If anyone knows it is probably a trick, it's Pokey. ]

Mm. They're not real. I cannot hear them. [ She repeats, hoping to reassure him. ] It is okay. It is just another cruel game.

[ceasetoexist]

Yeah. It's just. Cruel.

[He stops, and shakes his head a little, as if trying to clear it.]

I'm just tired of it. You know.

I'm just tired.

Floor 14

[twentycoolpoints]

[The media room seemed like a fun place to hang out, especially with this case of the sniffles and ughs that Picky had come down with. Somewhere you could sit, and maybe huddle with some blankets, and veg out a little? Sounded good. Better than forests full of carnivorous bunnies. But he turned right back around again and left when he spotted Por... no, Pokey playing a video game. Nope, no way, no how, not gonna deal with that...

...but then there was the clatter of the controller flying at the screen. And shouting. No, more like screaming. And a little, long-buried part of himself wants to recoil even faster from it. It had been years since he had heard Porky having an all-out tantrum about something, and the rush of memory and emotion that it was bringing on was bad stuff.

But he can't quite seem to make his feet move. He's rooted, not far from the door, staring with a pained grimace.]

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey doesn't notice you at all yet Picky. He has too much on his mind at the moment. Too much to pay attention anyway as he screams in utter fury, kicking at the beanbag in front of him. The beanbag smooshes a bit at Pokey's kick, and in his head people scream and circular saws scream and steel on bone screams.

In his mind, Pokey's own screaming is the quietest.

He kicks the beanbag chair again and again, using the kicks to punctuate his words.]

How am I supposed to save you? I can't even find you and in the end you....you saved me!

And it's always me in the end! It's always m-me!

[His kicks start to decrease in their, honestly, rather meek ferocity. Pokey grits his teeth, entire face clenching tight as he closes his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears from coming.

It didn't work.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It should've been me.

[And he just goes on like that, apologizing to voices only he can hear.]

[twentycoolpoints]

[Any worries that this was a usual Porky tantrum were starting to fade away. Sure, the execution was him, all the kicking, all the breaking things, but the content...

What was wrong with this version of his brother? Saving someone? Apologies? This wasn't Porky. If it's a trick? Like it has to be? Oh, so what if it's a trick? Who is he even tricking? He has to do something. He can't just stand here and watch this and he can't just leave.]

...hey.

[Picky steps forward awkwardly, not entirely certain what that something he should be doing actually is.]

Hey. Pokey. That bean bag didn't do anything to you. T... take it easy, okay?

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey looks at - or more accurately glares - at Picky as he speaks at him. And stiffens.

Picky's voice, this grown up Picky's voice, melds and rides along with the voice of his brother in Mayfield. His little brother. His actual brother. And while this Picky sounds confused, and hesitant...the Picky he knows. The Picky he knows is shouting. In pain, and fear, and confusion.

And in despair that his big brother has left him again.

Pokey just stares at the older Picky in front of him. And then tries to push out against him.]

Get away from me! Get away!

You don't tell me what to do, got it? You don't even know what's going on here!

[twentycoolpoints]

[Pokey's push is a pretty good one. Picky gets shoved and he stumbles back a few steps, but that's not enough to dissuade him. If anything, it's making him more engaged with the madness here.]

No! I'm not leaving!

[He's stood up to you before, big brother, and he'll do it again.]

And how... how am I supposed to know what's going on if you won't really tell me what's going on! Maybe I would care if I knew, d'you think of that? Huh?!

[He's not shoving back, though. His intent is to hold ground and defend himself.]

[ceasetoexist]

[Pokey trembles. Out of anger. Out of indignation. Out of grief and agitation and just being plain tired by this point. He looks up at Picky - at this weird grown up Picky he never knew. At this...well, man he guesses by this point, who grew up to have the kind of animosity Pokey always expected he would have towards him. And would deserve to have.

Pokey opens his mouth again and again and each time no words can come out. He wants to say something yet doesn't know what it is. If Pokey started talking right now he realizes he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He would try and start from the beginning of it all, from when he met Giygas to Mayfield to here, and he wouldn't be able to stop unless Picky stopped him. And he just can't do that right now. He just can't.

The voices won't stop. Won't quit crying in pain and betrayal and desperation and everything being done to them he can hear with such clarity. And Pokey can do nothing to stop it.

He keeps looking up at Picky. And then?

It just becomes too much for him. Pokey's face crumbles entirely as tears begin to fill his eyes. Burying his head in his arm, Pokey cries. He just cries, trying to stifle the sobbing with his arm and just hoping the Picky in front of him will just be disgusted and leave him alone.]