Absolutely I do. I read somewhere that there's some kind of store here? A bodega? Gift shop? Do mansions have gift shops? Idk! Anyway. We can stuff our pockets with things from both if we can find it.
I keep pulling my croissant apart at breakfast to check for anything weird in the middle I know the one time I don't check there's going to be an eyeball :( Pretty sure everyone thinks I'm nuts. Or like that girl from Signs
[ oh, kate probably doesn't know that one. ]
She leaves half finished cups of water all over the house because she thinks they're contaminated. With amoeba, not eyeballs.
[ ok, how does one socialize as a normal person who hasn't been stuck in a weird pocket dimension with the same five dozen people for just short of a decade? this is fine. ]
I don't really do very much drinking these days [ not since The Office Incident and The Woods Incident ] but if that doesn't make me totally uncool and you still want to hang out or whatever I wouldn't say no :)
i can always make you a virgin drink of some of the drinks you know, the ones not specifically designed to get you buzzed
but there's plenty of stuff to do in this place lots of rooms to explore, wouldn't mind a partner in mischief if you wanna go check what shit is hidden in here
[ would it be weird to bring up the possibility of being roofied? not by tara, necessarily, just in general. it's the setting, mostly. and a little bit of haunting guilt from his past, but he's trying to be normal here. ]
Would I still get a little umbrella?
[ dwight not all alcoholic bevs come with an umbrella. ]
This place kinda feels like a funhouse sometimes Or like that one house in San Jose with doors that lead to nowhere and windows where they probably shouldn't be. But less haunted
the door only appears when it's raining outside, but we're in fucking england so actually? i don't know if it works with snow might need to put a pin on that one
[ now that he’s thinking about it, that’s kind of like the doors that spawn in the middle of nowhere when it’s the animatronic’s time to hunt. nothing on either side, but a whole surveillance room waiting if you just open any of the doors.
if only there was a beach waiting on the other side of those ones. anyway, truthfully he’s seen weirder shit. ]
Okay. Yeah, sure, why not. I guess that’s… convenient?
[The time between Kate receiving her own gift and delivering this one is spent panicking, just a little, that nothing she does get will measure up. But by god, does she try.
There's several gifts, some from the market and others sourced elsewhere:
One fleece lived duvet to serve as a blanket, or extra cushioning for the ground.
One DIY survival kit, including: swiss army knife, torch, medical supplies, an inhaler (from where? who can say), and other misc. items.
One giant box of chocolates which actually seems to be several boxes of chocolates combined into one tin.
]
Dwight ♥
I don't think there will be enough gifts to balance out what you got me, but I tried really hard. You have to tell me the kind of music you like - I JUST figured out how to burn CD's, so I can make you a mix cd instead of a mixtape!
All of the chocolate is limb FREE, and hopefully the other stuff will help you feel safe.
If there was something you actually wanted - TELL ME!!! I'll find it!
[ only a short while after dwight discovers his haul, he texts a picture to kate. a selfie, actually, in which he's wearing the fleece lined jacket gifted to him. his glasses are missing, so he's squinting just a little, and he looks somewhat... disgruntled. the following text accompanies the photo: ]
Where's Ada?
[ this is about as good as his leon impression is gonna get. the jacket isn't even the same color as leon's, but listen. ]
Hahaha. Seriously though, this is great. All of it. Thanks.
[ that she picked out gifts for him at all is really nice, but that she did it with the intention of helping him feel safe means a lot. as much as dwight isn't thrilled about being trapped somewhere else there appears to be no escape from, he's glad there's someone here who understands the anxiety and the paranoia and the trauma doesn't just go away the second there isn't someone with a blade breathing down the back of his neck. ]
You don't have to make me a mix-anything. I'm not sure I even remember what kind of music I like anymore anyway. But I'd like to hear you play anything you want sometime, if you don't mind an audience.
[ a series of texts are fired in dwight's direction at night, hearing his nightmares from across the other room. dom eventually works up the courage to call a couple of times, but's essentially just a bunch of: ]
Dude are u OK
Hello?
Hey u sound pretty intense right now
Dude I can't sleep
Do u want me to go there
Hello
[ And he eventually gets over himself - sort of. It's Dee who enters Dwight's side, sniffing around, lazily closing the distance with the bed. She watches Dom's roommate for a while, then balances herself to jump on the bed, lying down on him with the upper half of her body. Weighted blanket times a hundred. ]
[ he's in the woods. tripping over raised, twisted roots, lungs aching, sweat stinging his eyes. there are footsteps behind him, not quite as quick as his own, calculated and heavy. disciplined and practiced, like they have this whole wood mapped. dwight swears under his breath, head craning to look over his shoulder, a movement which sends him a little bit sideways and fucks with his balance. the toe of his shoe, scuffed to hell, catches on a lifted root and he stumbles hard, palms hitting the dirt hard so his face doesn't.
he pushes through. skitters on all fours for a beat or two like a pathetic little dog until he can right himself and keep going. behind him, it's dark, but it's always fucking dark in the woods, black fog rolling at the edges like a threat on one side, a safety net on the other, but dwight's not sure he's past the threshold for violence.
in the distance, a small orange blip flickers, the glow of it just barely touching the soil around it. it feels like it's miles away, never any closer despite all of his panicked, frantic effort. dwight reaches out with one hand, opens his mouth to call out, but his voice catches in his throat. silent. the footsteps behind him draw closer, catching up, trailed by the muted sound of well-worn leather snapping quietly in the wind, except there is no wind. everything is still in these woods, except for dwight's rabbiting heart.
when he hits the ground a second time, it's much harder, palms crashing into the dirt just a second or two before his chin, the inside of his cheek caught in the painful, involuntary snap of his cheek. pinned down on his stomach with a familiar weight on his back, a knee on either side of him. immediately, he tastes blood in his mouth. immediately, he tries to twist and crawl his way out, fingers digging into the soil, grasping for anything, any sliver of leverage, but the earth underneath him is too soft, it gives way too much.
dwight is helpless. he's always fucking helpless.
he begs. sucks in a sharp breath, eyes dirt in his mouth, blood on his teeth. out loud, in his sleep. ]
No, no, no, please. Please don't, okay? I'll - help! No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—
[ cold metal rips into his flesh. sinks between his shoulder blades, just to the left of his spine. misses on purpose, because dwight wouldn't feel the rest if his attacker severed his spinal cord on the first try. dwight grits his teeth, writhes, squeezes his eyes shut, and when the knife is dragged all the way down to the bottom of his spine, he finally wakes, screaming.
wakes, but the weight pinning him down doesn't leave with the dream. dwight panics, arms reaching for anything, hands hitting the heavy headboard. his voice is rough, and pitched slightly higher with panic. ] Get off, let me go!
[ If he knew Dwight better — or at all, beyond a name and face — Dom might have been alarmed enough to attempt a quick trip to his dream, pulled him out into something kinder or into the real world. He doesn't know the guy, and he's retired from entering dreams without permission, so Dee is sent to the rescue, massive and heavy and pretty much unmovable. Shocker: that doesn't help. ]
Hey—! [ Dom is at the door, then past the threshold, close enough for the snow leopard to give up on Dwight and return to her companion. Dom crouches, both hands on her neck, as if he needs to check for any wounds. ]
She was trying to help, dude. What's going on with you?
[ disoriented and still somewhere between dreaming and awake, dwight scrambles the second the weight on his back lifts up and off, flipping onto his back and shuffling away from the edge of the bed on his hands and pushing with his heels. he doesn't recognize the voice speaking to him, and without his glasses he can hardly make anything out clear enough for any sort of comfort. it's only when he nearly topples over the opposite side of the bed that he stops, breathing hard, eyes fluctuating between widening and squinting. fearful, and wanting to see who the fuck and what the fuck is going on.
it takes him a few long moments to settle. to realize that the softness underneath his palms his not dirt, but a lush comforter and soft sheets, and that this is - this is the manor, and not the woods. not the fog. he's safe - or, at least, safer than he's been in a while. no murdery serial killers here.
embarrassed and still kind of clueless, dwight scrambles forward on his knees and reaches out toward his bedstand, patting his hand around for his glasses. ]
Uh— [ his voice shakes a little, mostly due to anxiety and the adrenaline still coursing through him. ] —sorry. Sorry I just -
[ pat pat pat - gotcha.. dwight slides his glasses onto his face a little haphazardly, fingers touching one of the lenses by accident and leaving prints. he blinks through them, brows pinched as dom and - a fucking snow leopard??? come into focus.
shit. that kid is his neighbor. he clears his throat. what time is it? dwight doesn't even remember falling asleep. is he still in his regular clothes? he looks down. he's still in his regular clothes. jesus. ]
I, uh. Bad dream. Very bad dream. Did I wake you? And your... what is that, a leopard?
[ Maybe he'd have more empathy if he wasn't so weirded out by his new roommate, placed here after the house made Hope go away, with those glasses and… whatever he's wearing to bed, along with really fucked up nightmares. No one having a good dream (or even a regular bad dream) would be making a live impression of the first kill in a slasher movie, so. That answer tracks. Dom stands back up, petting the top of Dee's head as she sits down, looong tail flopped on the floor and wrapped around her front paws. She's watching you, Dwight. ]
Yeah, a snow leopard. Her name's Dee. We both heard you and thought she could help you chill out.
[ Which they didn't. Or did they? At least the guy's out of the dream, right? ]
You want some water or a towel or something? You're kinda sweaty.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; @ ♥ kate ♥
would you like to accompany me to a movie night?
@dwight
Like a normal movie night?
Watching a normal movie?
[ and not anything even remotely similar to the weird shit that sometimes plays in the greenville theater??? ]
no subject
it sounds really normal!
no subject
It's a romcom I think
About as normal as it can get, haha.
Should I meet you there or
Do you want to go together?
I'm ok with whatever
no subject
no subject
I read somewhere that there's some kind of store here?
A bodega? Gift shop?
Do mansions have gift shops? Idk!
Anyway. We can stuff our pockets with things from both if we can find it.
no subject
i was JUST talking about finally being able to eat food without fingers in it
cw: cannibalism mention? kind of?
I know the one time I don't check there's going to be an eyeball :(
Pretty sure everyone thinks I'm nuts. Or like that girl from Signs
[ oh, kate probably doesn't know that one. ]
She leaves half finished cups of water all over the house because she thinks they're contaminated.
With amoeba, not eyeballs.
@carpenter - text [after secret santa]
i totally loved your gift! you ever want to drop by the hex club, let me know so i can take a shift and make you tasty, tasty drinks
or if you just want to like
hang out
we can do that too
no subject
[ ok, how does one socialize as a normal person who hasn't been stuck in a weird pocket dimension with the same five dozen people for just short of a decade? this is fine. ]
I don't really do very much drinking these days [ not since The Office Incident and The Woods Incident ] but if that doesn't make me totally uncool and you still want to hang out or whatever I wouldn't say no
:)
no subject
you know, the ones not specifically designed to get you buzzed
but there's plenty of stuff to do in this place
lots of rooms to explore, wouldn't mind a partner in mischief if you wanna go check what shit is hidden in here
no subject
Would I still get a little umbrella?
[ dwight not all alcoholic bevs come with an umbrella. ]
This place kinda feels like a funhouse sometimes
Or like that one house in San Jose with doors that lead to nowhere and windows where they probably shouldn't be.
But less haunted
[ the winchester mystery house. ]
no subject
you get the special treatment
[ Not the one that ends in them having sex though. Unless he's cute enough, that is. ]
oh yeah, the winchester one
no guns to be found here tho, but all doors seem to lead to somewhere
like the indoors beach
no subject
[ girl what. ]
Is that not just a pool?
no subject
the door only appears when it's raining outside, but we're in fucking england so
actually? i don't know if it works with snow
might need to put a pin on that one
no subject
Is there a ceiling?
[ not comprehending how a beach could be indoors. ]
no subject
you can do that cool thing where you step back and it's just like
a fucking doorframe in the middle of the sand
no subject
if only there was a beach waiting on the other side of those ones. anyway, truthfully he’s seen weirder shit. ]
Okay. Yeah, sure, why not.
I guess that’s… convenient?
DELIVERY - mid/late dec.
There's several gifts, some from the market and others sourced elsewhere:
- One fleece lived duvet to serve as a blanket, or extra cushioning for the ground.
- One DIY survival kit, including: swiss army knife, torch, medical supplies, an inhaler (from where? who can say), and other misc. items.
- One fleece lined jacket.
- One slightly ominous looking journal and a supply of pens.
- A thermos.
- One giant box of chocolates which actually seems to be several boxes of chocolates combined into one tin.
]Dwight ♥
I don't think there will be enough gifts to balance out what you got me, but I tried really hard. You have to tell me the kind of music you like - I JUST figured out how to burn CD's, so I can make you a mix cd instead of a mixtape!
All of the chocolate is limb FREE, and hopefully the other stuff will help you feel safe.
If there was something you actually wanted - TELL ME!!! I'll find it!
Thank you so much, again.
Love,
Kate
@dwight
Where's Ada?
[ this is about as good as his leon impression is gonna get. the jacket isn't even the same color as leon's, but listen. ]
Hahaha.
Seriously though, this is great.
All of it.
Thanks.
[ that she picked out gifts for him at all is really nice, but that she did it with the intention of helping him feel safe means a lot. as much as dwight isn't thrilled about being trapped somewhere else there appears to be no escape from, he's glad there's someone here who understands the anxiety and the paranoia and the trauma doesn't just go away the second there isn't someone with a blade breathing down the back of his neck. ]
You don't have to make me a mix-anything. I'm not sure I even remember what kind of music I like anymore anyway.
But I'd like to hear you play anything you want sometime, if you don't mind an audience.
text, un: dom
Dude are u OK
Hello?
Hey u sound pretty intense right now
Dude I can't sleep
Do u want me to go there
Hello
[ And he eventually gets over himself - sort of. It's Dee who enters Dwight's side, sniffing around, lazily closing the distance with the bed. She watches Dom's roommate for a while, then balances herself to jump on the bed, lying down on him with the upper half of her body. Weighted blanket times a hundred. ]
no subject
he pushes through. skitters on all fours for a beat or two like a pathetic little dog until he can right himself and keep going. behind him, it's dark, but it's always fucking dark in the woods, black fog rolling at the edges like a threat on one side, a safety net on the other, but dwight's not sure he's past the threshold for violence.
in the distance, a small orange blip flickers, the glow of it just barely touching the soil around it. it feels like it's miles away, never any closer despite all of his panicked, frantic effort. dwight reaches out with one hand, opens his mouth to call out, but his voice catches in his throat. silent. the footsteps behind him draw closer, catching up, trailed by the muted sound of well-worn leather snapping quietly in the wind, except there is no wind. everything is still in these woods, except for dwight's rabbiting heart.
when he hits the ground a second time, it's much harder, palms crashing into the dirt just a second or two before his chin, the inside of his cheek caught in the painful, involuntary snap of his cheek. pinned down on his stomach with a familiar weight on his back, a knee on either side of him. immediately, he tastes blood in his mouth. immediately, he tries to twist and crawl his way out, fingers digging into the soil, grasping for anything, any sliver of leverage, but the earth underneath him is too soft, it gives way too much.
dwight is helpless. he's always fucking helpless.
he begs. sucks in a sharp breath, eyes dirt in his mouth, blood on his teeth. out loud, in his sleep. ]
No, no, no, please. Please don't, okay? I'll - help! No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—
[ cold metal rips into his flesh. sinks between his shoulder blades, just to the left of his spine. misses on purpose, because dwight wouldn't feel the rest if his attacker severed his spinal cord on the first try. dwight grits his teeth, writhes, squeezes his eyes shut, and when the knife is dragged all the way down to the bottom of his spine, he finally wakes, screaming.
wakes, but the weight pinning him down doesn't leave with the dream. dwight panics, arms reaching for anything, hands hitting the heavy headboard. his voice is rough, and pitched slightly higher with panic. ] Get off, let me go!
no subject
Hey—! [ Dom is at the door, then past the threshold, close enough for the snow leopard to give up on Dwight and return to her companion. Dom crouches, both hands on her neck, as if he needs to check for any wounds. ]
She was trying to help, dude. What's going on with you?
no subject
it takes him a few long moments to settle. to realize that the softness underneath his palms his not dirt, but a lush comforter and soft sheets, and that this is - this is the manor, and not the woods. not the fog. he's safe - or, at least, safer than he's been in a while. no murdery serial killers here.
embarrassed and still kind of clueless, dwight scrambles forward on his knees and reaches out toward his bedstand, patting his hand around for his glasses. ]
Uh— [ his voice shakes a little, mostly due to anxiety and the adrenaline still coursing through him. ] —sorry. Sorry I just -
[ pat pat pat - gotcha.. dwight slides his glasses onto his face a little haphazardly, fingers touching one of the lenses by accident and leaving prints. he blinks through them, brows pinched as dom and - a fucking snow leopard??? come into focus.
shit. that kid is his neighbor. he clears his throat. what time is it? dwight doesn't even remember falling asleep. is he still in his regular clothes? he looks down. he's still in his regular clothes. jesus. ]
I, uh. Bad dream. Very bad dream. Did I wake you? And your... what is that, a leopard?
no subject
[ Maybe he'd have more empathy if he wasn't so weirded out by his new roommate, placed here after the house made Hope go away, with those glasses and… whatever he's wearing to bed, along with really fucked up nightmares. No one having a good dream (or even a regular bad dream) would be making a live impression of the first kill in a slasher movie, so. That answer tracks. Dom stands back up, petting the top of Dee's head as she sits down, looong tail flopped on the floor and wrapped around her front paws. She's watching you, Dwight. ]
Yeah, a snow leopard. Her name's Dee. We both heard you and thought she could help you chill out.
[ Which they didn't. Or did they? At least the guy's out of the dream, right? ]
You want some water or a towel or something? You're kinda sweaty.
text;
like really there