savetheearth | Entry #A-4: "Ante" [February 21, Text]

Entry #A-4: "Ante" [February 21, Text]

Though the police and the Blood Keys obviously represent a threat to many numbered individuals, I have a question about organized religion, and what pulses might mean when framed within certain philosophical contexts. No matter how natural it might feel, if there really is another being nudging its way into an existing consciousness, changing a person's aptitudes, physical attributes and even their personality... there have to be at least a few churches that would consider that demonic possession, right? Has anyone tried to reconcile what's happening with influential religious practices, and do we have any resources for assisting anyone who might wind up the subject of an attempted exorcism? Those still happen today, they can be extremely dangerous, and I'm concerned about the possibility of frightened numbered people seeking out such assistance, or being subjected to it by their families and communities. Thinking you're crazy is one thing, but sincerely believing that the devil is wielding you as an instrument is another entirely. Probably not something that the FAQ page can successfully assuage, for the most tenaciously convinced.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You are not bad at welding. I have a functional arm at work thanks to you. That counts for something, so you shouldn't be so hard on yourself...

okay i'm good at making stuff i'll take that

Do you think your family would have a problem with your choice of paramour?

i don't know, i really have no idea

I have four eclairs. I just bought them, and if I eat them all alone I'll get really sick. I've tried it before, so I know.

wat

do you

need help

I think I'm in over my head here. So, yeah.

SHIT that sounds like a SERIOUS PROBLEM hang on i'll save you

I'll bring them by. Along with some catnip I just happened to get around the same time.

aw dude

the cat will love you forever

[He wanders by within the next half hour, a bag from a pet supply store tucked under his arm.

He goes for the door buzzer, since his knocks sound wimpy and indecisive.]

[and BOOM there's a punk answering the door]

Wow, you're quick!

Kind of...

[He doesn't seem to think so, but he holds the bag up.]

So... eclairs and catnip. I can come in, right?

Hell yeah, get on in here.

[Ray steps aside to let L in. The cat's licking his nuts on the couch don't mind him]

Sorry about the mess, I don't get a lot of company.

[L stares rather rudely at the cat, watching it for a few seconds longer than can possibly be comfortable as he sidles past Ray.]

No, it's OK... messy I don't mind, it's dirty that gives me problems.

[He unpacks the bag, setting the catnip on the table and setting the box of eclairs beside it. He opens it and offers one to Ray, taking one for himself.

Unfortunately, the "eclair" tastes a lot more like dried meat than chocolate and cream.]

[Wow yeah that eclair uh. Tastes a little funky. Fuck but it would be rude not to eat it wouldn't it. Ray will try.

also the cat is rubbing all up on that container of catnip]

What brings you over, just eclairs and catnip?

Well, I guess I just wanted to cheer you up somehow. You seemed bummed out. Because of your PTSD, maybe.

[He realizes it, too. The second he takes a bite he is making a face and hastily spitting it out.]

Does... yours taste strange, too?

[He stares at the eclair as though it's betrayed him.]

A-ah. Thanks, buddy. My... thing. It's not giving me any problems right now. I just. Stress about things sometimes.

[OH THANK GOD HE SPIT IT OUT that means Ray doesn't need to finish his]

Yyyyeah, kinda. Did these come from the shop?

[Right on the rug, too! Sorry about that, Ray. He looks truly horrified, very disappointed, and somewhat sheepish.]

...I guess it was strange that they were selling eclairs in a pet shop. These must be meant for dogs.

You bought them at the-

[yeah and he totally swallowed that shit too, he just. Stares at what's left of his doggy eclair and then

cracks the fuck up. OOOOKAY that was really funny for some reason]

Oh my God! Lemmie. Lemmie get you some water.

[Ray's just gonna sliiide into the kitchen and return a minute later with a glass of water in each hand and a roll of paper towels under his arm. Yeah lets clean that shit off the carpet]

[The fact that Ray is laughing when he swallowed a dried mystery-meat eclair is also horrifying to L, but he's nonetheless grateful when the guy returns with a glass of water, which he gulps.

Fortunately it's just a little barely-wet morsel of dog treat on the carpet. When L doesn't like what he puts in his mouth, he doesn't actually chew, which might account for his whip-thin figure.]

I... didn't actually mean to give you dog food. In hindsight I don't know why it made sense at the time, but... I think there was pork in that...

[Looking disturbed, he is tearing off several paper towels and dabbing at his tongue; he is outright miserable.]

Edited 2014-03-03 07:39 (UTC)

[Aww Ray can't laugh at that. Well he could, but he doesn't feel like being an asshole right now. You just clean your tongue, dude, Ray'll clean up this little mess on the floor]

I didn't realize pet stores even carried doggy eclairs. Dogs get everything.

[There's being an asshole, and then there's being an asshole to someone like L. L can dish it out, and 99% of the time he takes it so well that it's questionable whether he even interpreted what he heard as an insult. But 1% of events, remarks and occasions slice startlingly deep, stunning him into a state of neurotic paralysis.

Fortunately it's not quite that bad this time. But damn is he disturbed.]

The catnip should be what it was advertised as. If it's not I'm going back to the store to complain...

Well, we can always pop that fucker open and find out. Though it looks like the cat is pretty convinced.

[Sure enough the cat is still rubbing all over the container, now he's making all kinds of happy kitty noises. KITTY YES.]

[Setting aside the dampened towel he'd been using to wipe at his tongue and still looking disgusted, L reached for the container, nudging past the cat as he did so. His hands weren't effective at opening a lot of things, but the container was easy enough, and as he pulled the safety tab free and dumped out the catnip, it became quickly apparent that Cookie Monster thought he was in heaven.]

I'm a little jealous now.

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