Foster Van Denend (
control_freak) wrote2016-12-05 06:40 pm
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[OOC] Lost Carnival Contact

DESCRIPTION: If Foster hasn't lost his walkie-talkie, he'll answer you! If he has........ uh. Well. It wouldn't be the first time.
DESCRIPTION: Foster never checks his mail, assumes he won't get any, and is automatically unhappy to receive any on the rare occasion such a thing might actually happen. But you're welcome to leave it on his doorstep. Maybe his roommate will get it.
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[ Rocking back and forth on her legs, she thinks. ] I'm really trying to play it less. But sometimes... you're right. I need to learn how not to use it as a crutch.
[ She looks up at him. ] But sometimes... sometimes I need it. Please. Because I don't have anything else.
And that's... that's my decision to make, anyway. Isn't it? I mean... if you take something away, that the other person really wants, doesn't that just make the other person want it more? So... what you did really just makes things worse, doesn't it?
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[He's practically pleading--but there's a vein of anger in it too, both hands in his hair, fistfuls of blond curls pulled away from his face.]
That's why I hate games. It's just a distraction! If you don't think about it, it's not real! Humans hiding behind willful ignorance!
I'm not going to help you pretend you won't DIE!
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[ Something chokes up in her throat. She tries to push the words out but nothing comes. Suddenly everything's too bright. The walls in the trailer behind Foster are shockingly pink.
If it weren't for her sturdier legs, she'd fall over. As it is, she clutches the stair railing and tries to catch her breath, because her chest feels tight and breathing is sort of difficult all of a sudden.
What is happening to her? ]
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Are you even listening? I'm talking t--hey!
[Chiaki pitches forward, and even Foster isn't capable of ignoring that. The problem is, he has no idea what's going on or whether he's supposed to care. (Some small, pointless instinct says yes, at least until further notice.) The good news is he's at least a little concern, and takes a step forward as though to intervene--but he doesn't know what he'd be intervening in, so he doesn't actually do anything besides stare at her, waiting for a response.]
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J-just... just a...
[ Heck... is she having a heart attack? Some kind of fae disease? She doesn't know, and that just makes her feel sicker.
She is afraid, she realizes through her pain and discomfort. He wasn't wrong. Somehow, this doesn't make her feel any better. ]
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This isn't helping Foster figure out what he's supposed to do about this--he really just doesn't want her to die right on his steps.]
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Chiaki?
[He doesn't even really notice Foster at first as he moves towards her trying to help her stand.]
Chiaki are you okay?
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J-just a second... sorry... Psii...
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He steps back a bit, retreating just a couple steps into his trailer, one hand on the doorframe.
He almost considers actually leaving the situation entirely, but that's not going to work. Even if it would definitely be better--on multiple accounts.
He does look visibly concerned, with furrowed brow.]
Should I....
...uh. Hang on.
[He disappears into his trailer entirely, but leaves the door open.]
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Hey, that's fine. Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?
[He maneuvers with her, helping her to sit on the steps, or at least lean against him]
I got you, you're safe now.
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She buries her face in her hands. The tightness in her chest is still sort of there, but it's lessened, and she's trying to focus on taking one breath after another. She gulps out answers to the questions as she can. ]
F-fine... just happened...
[ Think of something happy, think of something happy... calm down...
A grin looms out of the darkness of her mind and she clutches her heart again. This is gonna take some time, apparently. She's so stupid and weak... ]
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Chiaki. Breath in, count to 3, breath out. Okay? Do it with me. In, one, two, three, then out.
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One gulping breath in, then one out. Then another, and another -- it's harder at first but slowly easier as the breaths continue, as it's the only thing she's focusing on. Breathing, and looking at Psii, focusing on him.
Slowly, the world straightens out. ]
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So he sets it down on top of the steps instead, stepping back again and crouching down to study Chiaki's face from his place by the doorframe.]
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Okay?
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[ She's not, completely. She still aches all over. But she can breathe, and he's there, so things are markedly better. She nods and gives him a shaky smile. ]
I-I'm okay. Thanks.
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So... is this... thing over then? Should he leave?
Fuck. Fuck. He really just isn't good at this. He's still not even totally sure what brought this on. Or what 'this' is.
After a second's pause, he picks the glass back up, this time descending the steps to at least actually give it to her.]
Here. Drink it.
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Are you okay?
[He asks, suddenly looking Foster over. He doesn't know what they were talking about, but if it was that upsetting to Chiaki it might have upset Foster too.]
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Granted, Psii's an adult she cares about. And she's glad to not be feeling like she could keel over anymore... whatever, she'll just focus on sipping the water, listening to the other two talk for now. ]
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Foster stares blankly at Psi for a moment. Then he realises that the troll is ACTUALLY talking to him. Is he... is he serious? Chiaki's condition is obviously more important than sweeping some pitiful insect out of the way.
Put on the spot like that, though, his disbelief is marred by panic.]
Don't.
Don't worry about something disgusting like me. You can't hurt garbage. It has no value to begin with...!
[He runs a hand back through his hair to tangle his fingers in it. This is literally the last thing he wanted. Attracting attention.]
And you've got her, right?
I don't want her to die on my steps.
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If you're garbage so am I.
Is that your way of saying you're not fine?
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No... Foster, you're not... [ She struggles upright a little more, standing on her own to feet. ] I'm okay. See? You're not... don't say that kind of thing about yourself, please...
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He takes a step or two back, right back up the steps, and closes his hand in his hair, a tight fist. His other hand finds the doorframe and grips it just as tightly.]
That's not what I mean.
[He laughs it off--nervously, because he's extremely uncomfortable with Psiionic trying to compare himself to him, aggressively, because Chiaki is really just making this whole thing significantly worse.]
I don't have real feelings. So don't waste time on me.
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Okay? Well, I'm sorry to hear that... But it's no waste if you need something.
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This whole thing has kind of sucked. She mostly just wants to go home. ]
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The longer this thread goes, the more he unravels