INBOX

[foolmetwice]

[ text | voice | video | action ]

[HIT HIM UP WITH SOME MESSAGES SHOULD YOU CHOOSE]

Comments

[lefthandpath]

[time to find a light switch.]

I think we've already established I can handle myself fine.

Also, if you're aware this is a dream now, what's even the point of pretending you have a cigarette?

[foolmetwice]

It's calming.

[TAKES IN A LARGE DRAG, almost defiant. as if he is saying SO THERE!1]

[there don't seem to be any light switches in the room, though Mars does watch Crown as he checks. and a few moments later, he turns the TV back on, chains scraping against the ground]

A coping mechanism.

[lefthandpath]

Now you're just being a brat.

[turning the TV off again.

fine. we can sit in darkness.]

[foolmetwice]

[. . .]

[TURNS THE TV ON AGAIN]

Another coping mechanism.

Stop trying to help. I don't need it.

[lefthandpath]

Oh, right. I'll just leave you to wallow in stupid misery over something that's already over and done with, then, shall I?

[time to tip the TV over like the most surly feline.]

[foolmetwice]

Don't—!

[but it's too late. Mars's movements are too restricted by his chains to stop the inevitable, and the TV goes crashing to the ground, the screen shattering in an impressive display of sparks]

Fuck!

[Mars hisses]

I'm not wallowing! I'm preparing for next time!

[lefthandpath]

[points a finger at Mars, his street accent coming out more in irritation]

Demented. S'what that is. Y'know how you prepare for the next time? You get over it.

[foolmetwice]

Oh, like you fucking know everything!

[raising his own voice a bit, putting his cigarette out on the table]

The way to prepare for next time is to desensitize yourself to it as much as possible so you can get over it.

[lefthandpath]

Lemme get this straight... you want. The deaths of people you care about to be less important?

[do you hear it? the fuckery behind your planning here?]

[foolmetwice]

[LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!]

Coping mechanism.

[he hisses, before he nudged at the broken television with one foot. he's sulking now]

They're all going to die again one day. I can't stop that.

So I can at least make sure it doesn't hurt.

[lefthandpath]

I thought the point of having friends is that it hurts when they're gone.

[like. that's why people put up with friendship, right????]

I don't hold much stock in it, but if you already went through with it, didn't you already make that choice of getting hurt? Regretting it now's just stupid.

[foolmetwice]

[JABS A FINGER AT CROWN]

I didn't ask to feel this way. I even tried to cut it off at the knees when I first got here.

Some people are just— persistent and stupid and dumb.

[lefthandpath]

Haven't met anyone like that yet.

[unimpressed]

[foolmetwice]

[rolls his eyes]

Good for you.

[bends down to set the broken TV upright as he starts to collect the shattered pieces of the screen]

[lefthandpath]

[what shattered pieces? the screen's whole now.

because all ur dream r belong to BARiTONES.]

Here I thought I'd find something more interesting. Instead it's just some loser dwelling over loss.

How boring.

[foolmetwice]

[. . .]








[stands up and immediately attempts to punch Crown IN THE FACE]

[lefthandpath]

[he takes the hit pretty well, a little surprised--

more surprising is that the sound of fist hitting flesh is echoed on the TV.]

[foolmetwice]

[stiffens a little when he hears it, stumbling a step or two back, gaze flickering towards the TV]

[. . .]

. . . don't be a hypocrite.

[he says, eyes flicking back to Crown, chin lifted

You're the way that you are because you're trying to avoid this— [gestures to the interrogation room, the hallway outside] — too.

[lefthandpath]

[TV is actually full of static snow but maybe for a moment there's a clear scene of some shitty clown beating on a kid, words distorted and muffled by the sound of static a person can get in their ears when there's nothing but fury--it's gone as quick as it came, back to Mars' House footage.]

H-haa... talking like you know anything... isn't that what they call projection?

[lifts a foot to kick-shove the table into Mars]

Like hell you know anything about it!

[foolmetwice]

[chained to the table as he is, there is no escape for Mars. he finds himself pinned between the table and the wall, hissing like an angry cat, fingers curling against the surface]

[the scene with the clown is brief, but doesn't go unnoticed]

You don't know what I do or don't know!

[the House footage distorts, no longer playing scenes from just the game but rather other gruesome scenes involving Mars, each one ending with a gritty death. stabbed in a school classroom. beheaded by a yellow-eyed king in a castle dungeon. shot in the back while trying to flee a room that looks eerily similar to this one—]

If you're just here to yell at me and tell me that I'm coping wrong, then why even come in the first place?!

[lefthandpath]

[--a man calling him a possession wait that's not Mars's--but it's already gone to static and snow--no, actually snow, tho.]

I'm starting to wonder that myself! I suppose Know Thy Enemy works for a good enough reasoning at this point!

1/2

[foolmetwice]

[those last few memories cause Mars to freeze up, whatever retort he had prepared dangling on the tip of his tongue evaporating into thin air]

[a loud bang cuts through the snow, and suddenly there's a struggle on screen. the dialogue is garbled, but one line is clear— Haven't you realized it yet? We're connected. You can escape today, but there will always be another tomorrow]

[. . .]

[foolmetwice]

[. . .]

[Mars barks out a laugh, dragging one hand down his face]

So is that why we get along like oil and water—?

[lefthandpath]

Huh?!

[someone has not... been looking at the TV so much. because. well. he's facing Mars, so. he did hear things going on and that last line but WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!]

[foolmetwice]

. . . nothing. It's nothing.

[the sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway]