[RYSLIG] IC Inbox

[beatemall]

< BadMachine2004 > — normal handle
< KidArachnid > — used for hero work
< Sunflower > — anonymous posting

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Outer Limits Fallout

[dauvkind]

[The message is a simple note, torn from some other paper, left with Oscar (who nicely enough put it into an envelope) so he can give it to Miles, when the kid eventually searches for Sigrud and finds him moved out, days ago. His handwriting is erratic, full of the sharp edges of someone more used to knives than pens.]

Please just know it wasn't your fault.
Don't worry about me.

not-a-viking

[The last being his network handle, finally. A means to contact him when he otherwise doesn't want to be found, confronted.]

1/3 <P.B.P>

[heyunderoos]

Miles?

2/3 <P.B.P>

[heyunderoos]

[Twenty minutes later another message pops up.]

Miles, hey? Where are you? I'm kind of worried.

I haven't seen you in a while, so, yeah, hit me up?

3/3 <P.B.P>

[heyunderoos]

[A few hours later.]

Are you actually okay? Miles?

At least come back to A-Tower in a couple hours? Please?

[Action]

[beatemall]

[It's more than a couple hours before Miles returns home. By the time Miles gets to the second from the top floor of A-Tower, the sun has long set. He'd left early in the morning in an attempt to clear his head, but running into Shoyo only made things... Maybe not worse, but he feels more scrambled than ever. He'd spent the rest of the day wandering, processing the things he's experienced and the pain he shared... But it doesn't feel like any weight's been lifted from his shoulders.

His face hurts, especially around the sallow tissue surrounding his eyes, where his body desperately wanted to cry but could only really manage to bleed. The ichor that'd run down his cheeks has been wiped away for the most part, but still left behind dark, smudged streaks that not even the rain could wash away, despite how soaked he is. All the way through his jacket, his sweatshirt, his sweatpants. Miles doesn't even know how much a shower could help the cold that's seeped deep into his bones.

Miles also doesn't realize that Peter's been waiting for him, not until he flicks the lights on and gets a good jumpscare from a pooka in the dark. He gets some decent air, the way he nearly jumps out of his own skin at the sudden appearance—but then surprise ebbs and he's right back to looking sour in the only way a brooding teenager could.]

Don't sneak up on me, man.

[Miles grunts out before shoving his hands back into his pockets and trying to make an attempt for his room, clearly not in the mood to talk.]

[Action]

[heyunderoos]

[Normally, Peter would readily take the hint Miles doesn't want to talk. He usually tries to give Miles space.
Today, really isn't that day.

The pooka's ears flatten against his skull as he's immediately intercepting the lich's path, standing in his way. In their times together, Miles is likely more used to Peter's more anxious but easy personality, not a very puffed up pooka frowning up at him.

Since they got back from the backrooms, he's barely seen or talked with Miles at all. The lack of any response today hadn't made the pooka any less worried.]

Miles, what is going on-? I've been worried about you!

<malinovka> - post sacrifice reset

[grivences]

[ The past two weeks have been... hellish, is probably the only word Robin can think of to describe it. Ryslig is already hell in a lot of ways, more so than even the Upside-Down, but the last two weeks have, to quote Spinal Tap, turned it up to eleven.

It's only one things have more or less stitched themselves back together that Robin thinks to take her laptop back out and check on the people she's been out of touch with since everything went sideways. ]

Payback time.
You checked in on me when I was dead, so here's me checking in on you.

Hoping to god you're not dead, though.





(Well. Any more dead than usual.)

<BadMachine2004> cw: obsessive compulsion

[beatemall]

[Hell is something Miles feels intimately familiar with by now—if it really was a place personally curated to make him miserable. The days that dragged into the first week after reviving felt more like years, really.

First it was his phylactery reappearing in his room, and then it was his flesh slowly reconstituting around it, like it were the bulb of some sprouting plant. Once he was whole again (or as whole as he ever will be), it spat up out of his rib cage in an almost comical fashion.

And then Miles laid there, in his bed, for days after. Staring at the too bald ceiling of his room, until he felt like the plainness staring back at him was driving him more mad than the few fitful hours of sleep he could force himself through.

So he left his apartment—to the store, to buy cans of spray paint—and obsessed for the next few days after that with filling his room with so much color it bordered on headache worthy. Faces he wishes he could see again, smiles he wanted to bask in. First it was his mom and dad, then it became Ganke, Hobie, Pav—Gwen.

Miles didn't even notice that the new mural painted while hovering inches from his horizontal canvas had kept him from sleep longer than the nightmares have been. And when he finished it, he turned to his sketchbook. Pages were filled with unrelenting fervor, portraits and scenes he could close his eyes and remember from home.

It isn't until a ding from his laptop breaks the spell that he even realizes how long it's been since, well... He's talked to anyone. Miles' fingers would be hurting from the strain were it not for deadened nerve-endings, but the thought it swiftly put aside to see who it is that could be messaging him—and swears that if it isn't worth it, he'll just go back to drawing.

But it is worth it, in the end.]

hey
not dead just been busy
think i just got sucked into one of those famous lich spirals

[Miles stops, glancing around his room that has turned into the studio of a manic artist in a matter of a week.]

shits been really sucking lately ngl
im not crazy for thinking about home non stop am i?

[grivences]

[ If you had caught Robin only a year ago, and brought her into Ryslig then, her coping mechanisms would have sent her spiraling in similar ways, albeit focused more towards consuming art rather than creating it. That Robin actually was here in Ryslig, during that weird week-that-wasn't where everyone was a different version of themselves for a while. Pre-Steve Robin, as she likes to think of that part of herself now, would cope with life turning to shit by giving herself a new project: a new language to learn, a new director to watch the entire filmography of, a difficult new piece to pick up on the trumpet.

But that is what pre-Steve Robin would've done. Post-Steve Robin copes differently. She seeks out connections, rather then pushes them away.

Thus, the message to Miles. ]

In a weird way, things sucking does remind me more of home, yeah.

[ But probably not in the way Miles means. ]

Do you need or want help un-spiraling yourself?
I'm here as a sounding board.
Bounce your mental tennis balls off of me instead of the walls of your room.

[beatemall]

[The connection does help.

Seeing that he isn't alone, that there's at least one other person on this peninsula that can understand how he's feeling, makes the suffocating weight that fills his emptied chest feel just a little bit lighter. Since regenerating, his lungs have reformed within his chest cavity, but even with the newfound space to breathe—he doesn't. The phantom sensation of air filling them is now more familiar than the once autonomous act itself.]

maybe i
i dont know how people here manage to not go crazy robin
dying and coming back isnt normal
and the more freaky things i experience here the more i just want to go back to the freaky stuff im used to

[He doesn't know how he's supposed to feel about the sacrifice, how he can even begin to really talk about those feelings—nor the feelings he continues to have.]

you know
i was expected to make a huge sacrifice back home and i refused and
it got me into a lot of trouble
like world-ending trouble
i lost a lot of people i cared about but it didnt matter if i could just stay true to myself and protect my family

now that im here none of that matters
the people i want to keep safe are in danger and so i just
had this thought
that maybe if i didnt follow my heart this time and just did what was expected of me things would turn out different

but it didnt
everything is the same as it was weeks ago but still somehow worse

[grivences]

So you did it.

[ She types, but backspaces. Seeing the words on her screen makes them feel a lot more accusatory than they felt in her head, and she can tell that's not what Miles needs right now.

So she backspaces, takes the time to think about what she actually wants to say, and starts over. ]

If any shady government people show up from my universe, you can't tell them any of this, because I signed an NDA, but I'm pretty sure the US government has no jurisdiction in nightmare fog world, so fuck it.

But back home, I tried to protect people, too. I won't tell you who, and I won't tell you how, because even if I'm okay breaking the NDA, I can't make that decision for anyone else involved.
But the point is, we tried to protect people.
We failed, and the world looks like it might be ending because of it.
I don't know if it will or not, because I'm here now, not there.
I can only hope that the people who are still there can stop it.

[ Nancy, Dustin, Eleven, the rest of them... Robin has to count on them to stop Vecna before he destroys more than just Hawkins. ]

When things started falling apart here... The only thing I could do was try to protect myself and the people around me. To try to succeed where I failed last time.

[ That's a large part of why she stuck with Max instead of trying to spread herself thin looking out for the rest of her friends. Back home, Vecna got Max because Robin, Steve, and Nancy couldn't kill him. She couldn't let Max down a second time. ]

I don't know what's "expected of me." I don't think I'm the kind of person anyone expects much of.
I just try to do what feels right at the time.
I think that's all we can do.

I do, though, want to state for the record that I think it's a little messed up for anyone to expect you to die to save them. Here or anywhere else.

<not-a-viking>

[dauvkind]

[He should've done this a lot earlier, Sigrud knows now. Talk about his problems, not run away from them, leave Miles with nothing but one note and no information where he was. If he was alright, though he still has a hard time believing that Miles cares, after what happened.

Given that Reira already chided him for letters being wrong for this, he searches the kid out on the Network this time.]

I'm here now, if you still want to talk. Or anywhere outside – I'll be there.

(OOC: Dated forward to November 2023)

<BadMachine2004> probably sometime early in the first week of Nov

[beatemall]

[To say that Miles has been avoiding Sigrud would only be a half-truth. The last time he saw the old bear, it was on the worst possible terms—and the only thing he knew about where he could've possibly went was learned second-hand through Reira. Which, wasn't really information used in the long run.

But now that Sig is reaching out, on his own, through the network and not a passed-along note... Miles has a much harder time just ignoring the uncomfortable elephant between them.]

hey sig

[—is what he types first, but promptly deletes because really, even Miles can tell that it's just some attempt to sweep his discomfort under the bus. He doesn't know if he wants to meet in person, not just yet, but he also doesn't know... What he wants to even say to the guy in the first place.

So, he throws shit at the wall. See what sticks.]

idk if theres much to talk about
even an apology just...doesnt change what happened

and like i get it
you lost your cool we all do sometimes
but you gotta understand sig
ive had to watch so many people die for no reason here
IVE died for no fucking reason!!!

and when i tried to come to you to
idk
get some advice or maybe just a hug
you looked at me like i was a walking nightmare

i cant just ignore that
i cant just forget that look and how every stranger i walk past now gives the same one to me

<not-a-viking>

[dauvkind]

I know. There are no words to make this right.
This shouldn't have happened and I have no explanation as to why it did
please just know it wasn't your fault. Never.
It wasn't you I'd been thinking off, just before.

[But his daughter, the one he only just got back after too many years of distance. At least this messaging makes it easier to take a pause, to calm himself once more before continuing.]

You shouldn't have experienced such horrors, so young. No one should.
But please, don't make the same mistake as I and let it shape who you are now.
I don't care what you are now, what you look like. Perhaps it's just that I've seen too many horrors and am numb to it. But you are still the bright kid who gave me a piece of home, when I had nothing else.

[The mural. He misses it still, but life in the cities isn't fitting him.]

<BadMachine2004>

[beatemall]

[Miles knows, deep down, that it wasn't his fault. How could it be? He didn't make Sigrud rampage, not really. Sure, he could've been the trigger, but Sig's actions are his own.

But then there's the second voice within his head, the one that whispers insidious and needling, telling him that a real hero would've stepped in instead of freezing up. A voice that sneers, you have no right to call yourself Spider-Man, because even without powers, he should've tried to fight. It burns within him, ignites a fire that he has to control, so as to not take out his frustrations with himself on Sigrud—but it's difficult.]

thats your problem
you keep babying me!
you have NO idea who i am or what ive been through
well im not the idealized version of me youve got in your mind
ive fought bad guys and seen shit a lot of normal kids my age couldnt even dream of ok?

[The platitudes are just that—Sigrud doesn't want him to experience horrible things? Well, it's already too late for that, isn't it. Why is it that every time he just wants to seek out comfort, he gets a lecture or excuses instead?]

i just wanted to talk to you that day you know?
i dont have my dad here and not having that is
im not used to it
but now i dont really feel comfortable seeing you either
maybe we both made too many assumptions about each other

<not-a-viking>

[dauvkind]

[Even through messages, Sigrud can hear the anger, so similar to Tatys, when they tried to shelter her from reality just a little bit longer. When he finally talked business, she'd cried and he hopes to not blunder so this time. But the next words will be chosen carefully.]

You're right.

I saw something I thought worth preserving and... it does not matter, what it was. It wasn't my choice to make. You're more than old enough to have hold of your own life. I've led crews, had my own household, married and had my first daughter, when I was not much younger.

[And buried what he thought to be their bones, not long after.]

Perhaps we both started off with wrong expectations, on what would be.
I'm honored you thought I could take the place of your father, even a little bit. I know I've never been the best one to my own family.
If you want me to leave for good, I'll do that.
But I'd miss you, the chance to really get to know you.

<FLY> post-event

[jumpie]

miles? you around?
how's it going?

[ everything that had happened . . . felt like a nightmare, and while everything had been fixed, it wasn't without sacrifice, and maybe. maybe that's what still has his hooves feeling like they're on uneasy ground. he couldn't make contact with everyone beforehand, so now— it's after. there's still something knotting in his throat and leads down to his stomach, but. he hopes it's just his imagination. ]

<BadMachine2004> cw: suicide/sacrifice mention

[beatemall]

[Miles doesn't answer this network message, not immediately at least. It isn't until after his conversation with Robin that he even notices he has another notification... One he would have equally ignored were it not for who sent it. Miles can't just leave Shoyo on read.]

hey shoyo
im here
i mean ive been here but things have been rough since regenerating ngl

how are you holding up?

[An unspoken question is raised between them once more. Just as Shoyo likely worried for Miles, Miles now worries if he went through the sacrifice, too.]

<FLY>

[jumpie]

[ shoyo had made his way to the beach rather than staying inside the apartment. felt a little crammed, sometimes he'd swear he felt the jittering under his hooves again— he'd go back, when kaneki was there for the day, or evening. he'd face his fears, but at his own pace.

he liked giving himself things to do while he waited, like smelling the seasalt or kicking his ball around in a short game of "the floor is lava". always looking over his stretched-out towel and laptop, no messages. until there was one. he quickly slides over, slips the laptop onto his lap, and types. starts to type. reads again before typing.

and his gut goes cold. ]

regenerating?

<BadMachine2004>

[beatemall]

[Shit.

Miles, now with a non-functioning stomach once again, feels it drop into the abyss. Maybe he shouldn't have said it so casually—but after his talk with Robin, the topic doesn't feel so unapproachable, so impossible to talk about.]

yea i
i did the thing

but im ok now shoyo
i just did like
a lot of art for a week straight while trying not to think about it lol

Pizza not-date date (cont.) [Closed to Shoyo]

[beatemall]

[Miles is a healthy mix of nervous and excited for two reasons.

One—he always likes hanging out with Shoyo. It's become so normal, the guy swiftly and easily staking claim to the title of "best friend" (and not for a lack of them in Ryslig). Spending time together with another guy his age has felt like a rare boon, something that makes him feel a little less insane here, and he's quickly come to look forward to their jam sessions because, well, Shoyo makes him happy.

But two—he's never shown anyone his room willingly. Not Gwen, nor Peter really, and now he's inviting Shoyo over to listen to his music, read his poetry, and... Well, Miles' bedroom walls aren't exactly discreet. As he gets ready to meet his friend, Miles looks around the space and wonders if that weeks-long obsessive painting will turn the guy off. Not everyone can relax when they're been loomed over by smiling, frozen portraits.

As Miles pulls his own oversized flannel on, he meets the gaze of Gwen specifically. She had responded pretty well to his art, so... Maybe Shoyo will feel the same? As long as the kelpie doesn't flip too many pages in his sketchbook. That would be awkward.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Miles finishes pulling on his clothes, ending up dressed in layers of t-shirt under flannel under Strickler varsity jacket, over a pair of jeans and topped off with his usual jordans. Then he floats his way over to Fat Frank's, showing up just on time to spot Shoyo coming from the other direction.]

Hey—! [Miles calls, waving,] glad you found it okay!

[jumpie]

[ there he was, and with incomparable elation that could only really belong to the one boy his age he felt incredibly attached to (which is why, yes, he’s excited in the first place)— ]

Miles!

[ it’s near impossible to hear him coming when miles floats, but the clear sight of him calling and waving out in the opposite direction has shoyo picking up the steps of his hooves into a little jog, stopping dead to swing his arm for a good hand clap and lean, shoulder to chest! ]

Yeah, I met Max here! [ it was definitely familiar now— he had an entire plate of spaghetti trying to beat her at her own game. he’s about to make another good memory, here: grabbing a pie and high tailing it out of there like two rambunctious toms. ] What’re we taking? I like cheese or anything with meat!

[beatemall]

[Regardless of the lack of it in his chest—that smile, that excited inflection coloring his name in vibrant hues—it all coalesces into a shuddering tightness that claims Miles' not-so-cold, but certainly dead, heart. His smile falters just slightly, turns giddy at the corners, and his feet come to meet the ground just to half-jog towards Shoyo and meet him a little bit sooner.

With the ends of his arms shoved into his jacket's pockets and his hands gesticulating at shoulder height—]

It's my first time, I'd say let's go on your recommendation, but... [His hand zips on by, finding the handle of the shop's door and pulling it open for Shoyo to trot in first.] I'm kind of a pizza guy. [Which is to say, he's from New York and kinda snooty—but not Neopolitani snooty, apparently.] A classic pie should be perfect but uh, hm. How much do you eat? Maybe we should get an extra cheese pie too?

[Miles' appetite isn't what it used to be, but he's sure he can help Shoyo demolish two pizzas.]

[jumpie]

[ it’s in he goes, but shoyo waits just a little ahead of the doorframe for miles to enter along with him, eventually cruising the inside of the place side by side. ]

A lot . . . I even skipped my snack for this!

[ it’s alright to skip on his protein snack and lean meat dinner if he was going to wolf down an entire cheese pie, right? it’s good times like these that don’t have to heed a sports diet (it’s not like he eats pizza every day). shoyo’s ears are sensitive and react to all sorts of sounds within the kitchen, with flips and swerves, but he pays the most direct attention to the scent he has to inhale deep— oh, that’s so good. it fuels his tastebuds and makes his mouth feel utterly wet.

he’s a little bit more serious in tone, but ecstatic in expression when he says, with a touch of impeding doom (for the pizza): ]

Let’s do two.

after Bucky's post explosion

[heyunderoos]

Miles, hey

Realizing I should update you on this, since I forgot to talk to people about it.

another superhero from my world showed up, Mr. Stark. Tony Stark. He's sort of a mentor to me, but he's mostly kind of a disaster who means well. IDK if you guys have met already, but, I wanted to pass it on.