under control. [grace, samir]

Grace
[Awareness]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )

Samir[oh right crap gotta do the roll for the thing]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5) ( fail )

Samir[DAMN IT SAMIR]

GraceThere is a knock at the door. Grace usually doesn't bother, but from what Kiara posted to Ginger, it sounded like things were not all okay in Samir's world again. He likes his privacy when he's like that. He doesn't like surprises.

He doesn't like lemongrass stir-fried tofu much either (or, he does, but thinks it's laced with mind-control drugs) but she brought that too, in a plastic sack hanging from her arm.

"Hey. It's Grace," she says, at the door, just in case someone were behind it, wondering whether it's safe to open.

Kiara[Mage-dar. Just, you know, because.]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )

SamirHe's better than he was a few days ago. Though Sam is still hallucinating he is not having violent mood swings and indulging the delusions that he has to live with every day of his life anyway. But hallucinations are distracting even when you have them under control.

Today he does not have them under control. The plants are talking shit again and the ground outside has been screaming all day and he can hear blood dripping somewhere in the walls. Kiara has caught him standing with one hand over a stud listening intent to something she can't hear at least once today. It's jarred him out of his reverie and sent him back to whatever the hell it is he's been doing in River's absence.

She kept him distracted for two days straight but River has bills to pay and a life outside of babysitting her boyfriend. Sam has neither slept nor taken anything by mouth since she left. Has been sitting cross-legged on the mattress in the spare room and scribbling code onto a legal pad for the last several hours. Occasional muttering comes out of the room but no other disturbances.

Kiara can imagine that he's hearing the echoes of spiritual energy in that room. That's where the Artist made its appearance not so long ago.

Neither can see him go still as a statue when he hears that knock.

KiaraShe feels Grace's approach today. Can sense her before she raises a fist to knock at the door - but she doesn't pre-empt it. It's quite possible that whatever the Verbena was in the process of doing or wherever she was, extracting herself to answer the door took some work.

"Just a minute."

Grace can hear called back from behind the door, there's a quiet thud and distorted murmurings before the door swings open on Kiara, half bent, rubbing her fingers over a knee and waving at Grace to enter. She looks surprisingly well rested, the Verbena female, considering the circumstances. Dressed in a man's oversized dress shirt cinched in at her waist with a white camisole beneath, dark hair pulled out of her face in some messy knot at the nape of her neck and a pair of jeans, she's the picture of a woman dressed for comfort - or cleaning.

Or perhaps some variant of both. "Hey, come on in. He's in the spare room unraveling the mysteries of the universe. Or my closet doors."

Grace"Yeah, he unraveled his bed last time," she says, giving Kiara this look of shared understanding. She knows what that's like.

"I brought some thoroughly inoffensive food. He ate it before, at least."

She steps inside, remembering that the last time she was here, she was helping out some other guy... Seems to be a pattern. Or maybe that's just her brain going on its pattern-making spree again.

"How is he?"

SamirAt least his bed is a mattress on the floor this time. It's harder to dismantle a bed when there's no frame. He hasn't thought to take a knife to the fabric yet. Then again River has been weirdly insistent upon keeping knives and pills and other things he has no interest in going anywhere near out of range so who knows. Maybe he's not as paranoid this time as he was last time.

Patterns are useful. He knows about patterns being useful. If he knew she was thinking of the situation with the creepy white guy and the dead Euthanatos and the Nephandus as soon as she stepped in the apartment Sam wouldn't blame her. Sam in his right mind would understand and empathize.

Sam right now realizes he left the door to his room ajar and debates whether he ought to just wait for the voices to stop or shut the damned thing and see if that does anything.

Kiara"I should probably be thankful there's nothing in there but a mattress. Sadie wasn't one for a lot of worldly goods." Wry, that, as Kiara leads Grace into a cluttered little living room she likely remembers quite well. There's clothing strewn over the back of one sofa, books and various other items have been stowed on top of her coffee table in what seemed a hastily decided on relocation.

The altar that sat in one corner near one of Kiara's windows was covered by a velvet cloth. The knife that the Artist had used was not beneath it, it had been buried in the earth for a month by the Verbena to release the negative traces of energy clinging to it. It had been overkill - Kiara hadn't cared.

She pads into the kitchen, the brunette and extracts a bowl and some cutlery - glances down at the fork in her hand and puts it away again wordlessly, offers out the bowl and nods in the direction of the bedroom, Grace would remember it, too. They'd put Michael in a chair in there not so long ago.

The door stood slightly ajar, now.

Kiara's dark eyes train on it as she offers: "He has his good moments and his ... not so good. He could use the food, though." A beat, the edge of Kiara's mouth lifts. "And the company, since I have to go run some errands." She scrubs a hand over her neck, Grace can hear the threads of unease, there. "I didn't want to leave him alone, though. River's been here with him but she had to go do things.

I think she'd still be here if she could." Softer, eyes still on the door. "Not that I can blame her." Eyes tick back, then. "It's not easy to see him like that." Kiara's seen him far worse, but she doesn't mention that. Nobody but her and Elijah needed to know what he'd looked like when she'd arrived in the woods.

GraceGrace just shrugs at the statement that it isn't easy to see him like that. It isn't easy to be Sam right now either, but he can't take a day off from himself. She knows a thing or two about hallucinations, about being that burden, being the poorest of company and decidedly unstable.

She takes the bowl and goes to sit at the couch while she transfers stir-fry to the bowl, so Samir can eat like a proper gentleman instead of out of a take-out container (which, whatever -- same difference.)

"River's a good person. I'm glad he has so much help this time, eh? Next time it'll be my turn or something."

Perhaps there is a thanks hidden in there somewhere. Also, an acknowledgement that this isn't just a two-time thing.

SamirOkay. The voices aren't going away on their own. If anything they sound like they're settling in for an extensive conversation. It's keeping him from working.

They have no idea the extent of just how permanent a problem this is liable to be. He hasn't told anyone that he met the personification of his madness in a mindscape and part of the Seeking transaction involved a pact or a promise or whatever the hell you want to call it. While his avatar was watching.

Sam figured if he's going to be insane he may as well accept it instead of keep fighting it.

The women hear the bedsprings squeak as Sam climbs to his feet and takes a few purposeful steps and slams the door shut. At least this time he doesn't wedge it shut.

KiaraRiver's a good person.

Little cut of the Verbena's eyes at that back to Grace. Slight little smile surfacing at the corners of Kiara's lips. "Yeah, she seems to be." Next time I'll be my turn or something. The Verbena's dark gaze lingers on Grace as she empties the food into a bowl.

There's a tiny chip in one corner, it's a frequent sight with Kiara's kitchenware. As if finding a cup or saucer without some marring little imperfection were a miracle in and of itself. Or, perhaps, like so many other facets of the Verbena's life and persona - it was just lived in, well loved. She bends to scoop up a bag, half concealed in the arm of a sofa.

"Let's hope there doesn't have to be a next time." She moves across to the bedroom after Samir slams it shut and pauses outside it, lifts a hand as if to knock but instead sets her palm against it. "Samir? It's Kiara. I'm going out for a while but Grace is here.

She brought you food. I'll be back later, okay?"

There's a brief glance back at Grace that may well read her own version of gratitude before she heads toward the door to retrieve her keys.

GraceThe door slams shut. Grace rolls her eyes. That tactic gets old, especially when she's trying to get him to eat. "Oh, come on, Sam."

It's not full of mind-control drugs. Honest.

"No promises about the state of his room when you get back," she says to Kiara, and gives her a smile. This is hardly the worst that could have happened, and she's trying to make light of it.

So she takes the bowl over to the door that's been slammed.

"Hey, Sam. I'll go away if you eat something." Tempting offer, eh?

SamirI'll be back later, okay?

A pause long enough that they may start to doubt whether he's still in there or still capable of interacting with the same reality as the rest of them. As all things do the silence ends eventually.

"... kay."

Then there's Grace's voice on the other side of the door. Same stretch of silence but this time he gets up and opens the door. She has seen him in the midst of a Quiet that has left him more or less blind before. That sheen isn't dulling his gaze today but he still has the appearance of a man whose attention is elsewhere.

"So... if I don't eat, you won't go away."

Grace"Pretty much," she says, and there's a challenging smile at him when she says it. Shows him the bowl of lemongrass tofu. "You like this stuff. It's not like I'm making you eat those carob cookies."

He's going to end up associating carob cookies with madness. And really, why wouldn't anybody do the same?

Kiara[And Kiara has headed out! Though I may hang around and spy like a weirdo. ;) ]

SamirCarob as an ingredient was discovered by a freaking madman. Most innovations are the result of some combination of insanity and genius. Sam attempts to mirror the smile but it ends up looking like a nervous tic instead. He starts to flick the light switch on and off. On and off. On and off. Counting silent as he does it.

He has to get to twenty-three before he can stop. Might as well half-ass his way through a conversation while they're at it.

"I'm not hungry."

Grace"That's too bad," she says, again with a challenging smile. "I'm just going to have to stay here, bugging you then."

Grace is a bit too old-hat at this song and dance to fall for it. Samir wasn't hungry nearly the entire time through his last quiet, even though he barely ate. She wonders what his reasoning is this time. Poisoned food? Too busy cleaning?

Samir"Alright."

It doesn't appear as if that's going to stop him. He opens the bedroom door all the way like an invitation but he doesn't stop dicking with the light switch until the twenty-third check. He's blown light bulbs doing this before. This bulb holds up despite the abuse.

Whatever it is he's working on is on the bed. A legal pad has to take the place of his laptop for working out whatever it is he's trying to work out. Looks like he's attempting to broaden his grasp of Mind without having access to the Internet. Going old school philosopher over there.

From where she stands Grace can see that he's using both sides of the paper. He's already gotten about a third of the way through this pad. He's using pen to write.

As he walks over to the mattress Sam's eyes drift up toward the ceiling. He sighs and then sits where he left the legal pad.

"How is that not driving you nuts?"

GraceShe walks in upon the invitation, not attempting to stop him in his impromptu strobe-light impersonation. She keeps hold of the bowl, though, hoping to offer it up again.

There is also a glance at the legal pad. "Oh, that takes me back... You know, my test to join the Virtual Adepts involved a curse that took away my ability to use any digital devices. And then I had to break some encrypted code. Sans computer. And Work some Code. Sans computer. I've still got all my notebooks."

Something wistful there in the way she says it. The work was worth it.

"What should drive me nuts? The lights? Why? You stopped."

SamirIn his right mind Sam would think that was an interesting story and want to know more. Would ask her if he could see her notebooks. It doesn't seem as if he's listening to her now. He may be trying to but he can't hear her very well when that fucking noise won't stop.

"No, not the lights." He pinches the bridge of his nose before picking up the pad and flipping back a few pages like he needs to regain his train of thought. "You don't hear that?"

Grace"Nope. Sorry. I would say it's all in your head, but so is every sensation."

She does look up at the ceiling. She listens, just in case. Doesn't really expect to hear anything, but who knows.

"You hungry yet?"

SamirIf Grace were to hear what Sam was hearing that would mean he was in pretty real danger of becoming a Marauder. The last time this happened he attempted to apologize. Hinted at the fact that of all the things in the world that he's afraid of the one that causes him the most anxiety is the thought that one day he's just going to go completely mad.

The man doesn't like not having control over his environment or his emotions. He's trying though. In general. Not right now.

Grace makes a crack about why she won't say it's all in his head and he huffs out a breath like he almost found that funny.

Then she asks if he's hungry. He tosses down the legal pad and looks over at her with an expression on his face that asks Are you fucking serious? Holds out his hand for the bowl.

GraceSuccess! She hands the bowl over, then quickly steps back out of his personal space again. Yes, Samir, she's fucking serious about getting you to eat. Someday, you might just thank her for that.

She leans up against the wall by the door, wondering if he's going to throw it at her. If so, she did warn Kiara.

"You stuck on anything? I mean, besides just trying to work things out on a legal pad..."

SamirOf course he'll thank her for this someday. He isn't a complete dick when he's not in Quiet.

Sam looks down into the bowl not to check for contaminants but to make it seem like he's actually interested in eating. This isn't sound logic he's employing. He doesn't like being alone when he's hearing weird creepy shit any more than other people like leaving him alone. Grace probably won't leave just because he polishes off whatever she brought him but Sam isn't thinking straight.

He does not throw the bowl at her. He heaves a sigh and takes a bite.

"No, I'm not stuck, I just..." He sets aside the bowl after that one bite and picks up the pad again. "I want to make sure I get it all down before I start trying to do anything with it, eh? It won't work if I don't write it all out first."

Grace"More than one bite, Sam," she says, rolls her eyes. "Contrary to your own opinion, you will not be able to get much farther in your studies if you don't eat enough."

So, try using logic on the one who's temporarily lost contact with reason. But hey, it does seem to work a little? He's not completely adamant about taking his mattress apart or something. She can still convince him of things.

"Don't you want me to leave you alone?"

She thinks he does. That's what he wanted most of the time the last time he was like this. Of course, then, he was more paranoid.

Samir[manip + subt: the name of the game is "lol i don't have feelings"]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 4) ( fail )

Grace[Perception + subt = yeah you do]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 6, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

SamirThe outside world is screaming like it's in agony and the plants won't stop heckling him when he walks past them. Occasionally he hears two people whispering underneath the floorboards. It's not the neighbors. He knows something somewhere is stuck and bleeding and he can hear the blood dripping behind the walls but he can't get to it because that would require tearing the goddamn wall out and he doesn't want Kiara to get in trouble so he's keeping the property destruction to a minimum.

Of all the things he can think of being alone is among the last of the ones he wants. For a second he actually looks terrified of the prospects of being alone. He's been alone during this current episode before. For a spell he had the place to himself because Kiara had to step out before River could get there.

He dismantled the vacuum cleaner and cleaned the ever-loving hell out of it. Proceeded to spend twelve hours cleaning the oven so he could think about something other than the sounds he couldn't ignore. It took River pleading with him for him to lie down and sleep.

Sam snorts at the question and looks back down at the pad.

"Leave if you wanna leave," he says. Despite his efforts he still sounds scared and sad and a little angry. "I've got shit to do."

Grace"Oh. Okay. I guess this time it's different," she says, walks over to the mattress and sits on the side opposite to him. "I don't actually want to leave. I just thought you might want me to."

She shrugs. "I mean, you did slam the door on me. I thought you meant to keep me out with my stupid food."

None of this really seems to be getting to her. There are so many worse things she could be dealing with right now than a scared friend.

SamirChrist. Now she's mistaking his bravado for a sign that he wants to talk about his feelings.

Grace sits down next to him and Sam seems to get it through his skull that he isn't going to get any work done while she's here. He drops the legal pad and the pen onto the floor and swipes his hair back from his brow. He hasn't tied it back today. That's a decent indication that he's having a rough time.

Speaking of stupid food: he puts the bowl on the floor too. That way he can flop back on the mattress and address the ceiling instead of her.

"I thought it was something else." Not someone. Something. "If I'd known it was you I wouldn't have slammed the door."

Ass.

Grace"Okay. How about this bargain then? I'll stay with you and be less distracting and let you work if you'll eat that whole bowl of stir-fry."

Because no, Sam. She isn't going to stop pushing food on you.

"Because honestly? When was the last time you ate? And I'll know if you're lying. I can even make double-sure of it. I taught you that trick."

She joins him in staring at the ceiling while she talks. It's a thing she does a lot, getting lost in the dimensions of things, in their abstract geometries. Easier to look at than faces sometimes.

Samir... if you'll eat that whole bowl of stir-fry.

Sam sighs the most long-suffering sigh anyone has ever sighed in the history of sighs.

I taught you that trick.

And then a followup long-suffering sigh before he grabs the collar of his t-shirt and hauls it up so it's covering his face. Lets his arms drop to the mattress after that. He can still hear her and everything else right now.

The occasional drunken bout of idiocy in a young adult makes for hilarious stories later in life. Repeated drunken bouts of idiocy that persist into later adulthood starts to sound an alarm call. This is like an alcoholic versus a college student. If Sam had not gone into Quiet three separate times since coming to Denver he might find stories about the shit he does when he's in Quiet to be humorous.

He does not. These episodes scare him.

"River and I went to this sandwich place by the park last night." After his escape attempt. On the way back to the apartment. It's not like they were out on a date. She was afraid he was going to jump in front of a train or something. Sam yanks his shirt down so it's not covering his face anymore. "I had soup and half of her sandwich. There was a bunch of green shit on it."

Grace"Okay, so you had food last night. It's now, though. You don't stop needing it."

Suffer, Samir. Suffer the annoyance of Grace on a mission. You will be suffering long indeed. At least, you know, as long as that bowl is full.

"Green shit isn't terrible. There's some green shit in that stir fry. It'll get cold, though, and that would be terrible. Go on. It would make me feel better if you ate."

SamirOh the humanity.

Sam sighs as if she has just asked him to perform a feat that would make Atlas throw down his burden and flip off the camera. Rolls towards the bowl he'd left on the floor and throws his arm over himself to execute a half-assed attempt at grabbing it. He misses on the first attempt. Gets it on the second. Rolls onto his back and sets the bowl on his stomach and sighs again because he doesn't want to sit up to eat.

Fuck it. He stays on his back for the first bite. Upends it into his mouth and chews and swallows before deciding he doesn't want to do this for the entirety of the meal. He sits up.

"It would make me feel better if those two would shut the fuck up," he says. This is a different gripe than the one he'd already asked Grace if she heard. He leans forward a bit so his voice will carry out the door. "YEAH, I CAN STILL HEAR YOU, ASSHOLES." Whatever. Ignoring them. He takes another bite of food and a glimmer of Samir reveals itself when he says, quiet as he pushes the food around with his plastic fork, "This is good."

GraceAhh, dramatics. Doesn't matter, Samir. You're still eating. Is she channeling his mother or grandmother enough yet? Possibly, because he actually starts eating.

And then starts yelling at his hallucinations to quit. Well, there are ways to keep Kiara from having to deal with noise complaints. There have been an awful lot of strange noises in this apartment lately. Wouldn't be good to raise questions.

"Yeah it is. I had some once. It's got this whole fresh green-y quality," she says, like green is a taste. "But not like, shitty green."

She sighs at the ceiling. "I know you want them to shut up. They will, eventually. It'll take time."

SamirTime and liberal exertion of his will. Which is already stretched thin from dealing with his weird rituals and intrusive thoughts and fear of contamination.

Sam has been chewing his lips and foregoing sleep. He doesn't require constant supervision but without some sort he gets locked into a cycle from which he can't extricate himself. This is why Kiara didn't let him stay out in his trailer by himself after the incident to which she responded.

Ignore the fact that that incident almost killed him. He has been.

"If they don't," he says around a bite of food, "it's not the end of the world."

Grace"No, I suppose not," she says, then lets a sigh out at the ceiling while her eyes chase the corners of the room. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but it might not be something Samir would survive.

She's almost lost her friend twice now. There are other things that could threaten him, true. Perhaps this is just him trying to make everything work in the time being. If he has to hear things, it isn't so terrible.

"Would you like me to get you something else? Like, a drink maybe? Or... want to listen to... some," she pauses. Thinking. What is that thing? "Nihilist?"

SamirShe remembers the name of the Swedish death metal band he used to kick her ass at laser tag.

This might have touched him if he were in his right mind. Made him remember the awesome time he had using the universe's natural inclination towards making him disappear to his advantage and whooping her ass. But Grace knows better than anyone else does how Samir is when he is in his right mind.

Water would be his body's best friend right now. Right now his best friend is asking if he wants to listen to music and he doesn't recognize how much she's trying. Doesn't recognize that she recognizes that he's going to crack if too many more days pass of him hallucinating and not being able to pull himself out of this. They can joke about the next time all they want but this time sucks only slightly less than the last time.

"Whatever you want to do," he says again. He's focused on eating.

Grace"I want to get you something to drink. I'll be right back," she says. Honestly, Nihilist sounds pretty bad. It was more for his benefit.

She picks herself up from the mattress and leaves Samir to himself in the room. Goes to Kiara's kitchen and treats it like she is the new owner of the place, opening the fridge, the pantry, the cupboards. Finds where Kiara keeps the glasses and the booze (a lot of it) and the bottles of herbal-infused enhanced water and selects one. Herb water. Sure. That'll work.

It really does seem from Grace's perspective that Kiara's entire fluid intake consists of these weird health food store water bottles and alcohol...

Samir[jamie's falling asleep. WE PAUSE.]