30. deja vu

[orderfromchaos]

[Dillon has too many eyes. A pair on his forehead, almond-shaped and dull, dead. Two pairs on his face below his own grey eyes in different shades of brown, one on his cheekbones and one in the hollows of his cheeks themselves, alive, darting, glaring, as if with minds of their own. In his neck, a pair of hazel-green eyes that would be terribly, alluring beautiful if they weren't clouded with death as well, and a final empty blue pair set wide above his collarbone.

The bedroom behind him is a wreck; not like he trashed it, like a bomb went off, everything in splinters and shreds and smithereens. He grits his teeth, but takes a slow breath. When he speaks, he puts a little raw power in his voice, the power of order that finds the tiny chinks in the universe and exploits them, that brings things into line, and the subtleties of it carry even through the comm. It doesn't force people to believe - but it does make his words harder to dismiss, hard to rationalize away.]

You think you're going crazy, but you're not. You think you're out of control, or out of strength, or you were worthless to begin with - but you're not.

There are parasites here, feeding on the worst thing you ever felt. And like all parasites, the more you feed them, the more they grow. Starve them, and they die.

Whatever you're feeling, fight it. The feeling is part of you, but the parasite is not. Control it, instead of letting it control you. You can win.

[A long beat, to let that resonate. He knows perfectly well that for some people on the barge, it's a lie, but the force of the statement might help some of the people for whom it is not. In his own voice, but hard and shuttered and sure,]

Anyone who has magic, anyone with psychic anything, talk to me, I can find the people who are infected and not making trouble yet. If you need help beating it, call me, I can help. I've faced something like this before. It's so hard to fight, but it's absolutely vital. I can see the places they've grown, and I'm not letting a single one of these assholes survive.

[Feel free to assume he has tracked your character down if you want spam. He is completely ready to take people's doors off their hinges if necessary to get to people with despair!shas who can't get up to open them, or are otherwise resisting, he is really serious about wiping these things out. Dillon can't actually extract the sha on his own, but he will at some point be teaming up with Dean and/or Jean and/or others if you would like, and he can help someone on the edge find the strength to reach an acceptance vanquishing. Let me know if you want a particular scenario/solution.]

Comments

[surfaceshine]

[Dean is tired, but motivated; he's panting a little overall by now, and just when he was trying to decide what the next step should be, someone else blew the situation wide open.

He's not sure he likes it. Too late now. He bites the bullet and clicks the feed on.]

I've already removed two, possibly three. We've fought them off. It's possible.

[orderfromchaos]

[Oh, thank christ. The shards only managed to extract theirs with the threat of death, and if this breed is even a fraction as smart, they'll know by now that's not a concern here. Dillon can destroy something a lot easier if it's not hiding on the astral plane or whatever, using the complications of a person, the kind Dillon can't just wrench into well-being without destroying them, as a psychic shield. On the other hand: numbers.

Gravely.]

I think half the ship is infected.

How do you get them out?

[surfaceshine]

They're close enough to demonic in nature that I can exorcise them. [...it's mostly an exorcism. Close enough to pass muster anyway and no one is going to care about the differences because it's not the sort of thing he can teach on the fly.]

I think we picked them up in port. Some of these people I had protection sigils on while we were there, though.

[withtheoldbreed]

[... It's hard to look at Dillon, even though Gene's got a long, striped tail sticking out of the back of his pants, and it's hard to listen to him at first, too, but-

Christ, this explains a lot.]

Where'd they come from?

[orderfromchaos]

Must have been the port I missed. The timeframe lines up.

[And he's pissed at himself about that, a little, even though logically there isn't any way that makes sense.]

[withtheoldbreed]

Some of us got real sick because we didn't make it back to the Barge in time.

[But he's felt fine since then, even if other people haven't.]

You need any help corrallin' people? [... Not that he has any magical powers, but he can at least try and coax people like Scott, Merlin and Snaf out so Dillon can get at them.]

[audio]

[tucky]

Can you find out if Merlin has it?

[audio]

[orderfromchaos]

He does. Bad. I just didn't know what I was seeing at first.

I'm sorry.

[audio]

[tucky]

You're sure?

[So much relief. If he's affected by something, maybe he'll change his mind about what he said once he's all better.]

Can you fix him soon?

[leavetreadmarks]

[...okay, get over the eyeballs, Letty. Just a second to get over the eyeballs.

Okay, there. Her expression is set and stubborn when she clicks on.]

It explains a lot of the bullshit around here lately. How do we help?

[orderfromchaos]

Do you know Clementine? She can get them out of people, but she might need someone to help hit them with heavy stuff until they die once they're out.

[leavetreadmarks]

No. Guess I should.

[She's not a heavy hitter, but she can hit things until they stop moving. She doesn't hesitate.

Karazhan caught her off guard, but she never lets it happen twice.]

video

[darknessb4me]

Stop it, shut up.

[Arthas has both hands pressed against his ears, digging into his head. He has a white blindfold on, over his eyes and tied behind his head. Hearing is the last sense he has left, unaffected by undeath or by the flood. The last thing that keeps him from tumbling into the dark.]

I can tell what you're doing.

video

[orderfromchaos]

Okay, yes, okay, stopping now.

[He thinks about saying sorry, then doesn't. It would be worse, he thinks, if he were insincere than not to say it at all.]

text

[150th]

I am a psychic.

But why should I be concerned for the wellfare of humans?

voice

[orderfromchaos]

Well, for starters, being driven slowly insane doesn't make humans or anyone else better company.

Look, I don't know what exactly you are, or what happened to you, and I respect that humans have never given you any reason to help them, but I'm a star. I don't even fit in my skin. If these things can infect me, probably they can infect you too, and they are miserable, evil, tenacious bastards that will sink their hooks right into wherever you hurt most.

Getting rid of them is better for all of us. If that's something you're willing to work with, I know I'd appreciate it.

text

[150th]

You are infected?

[private]

[routemistress]

[Iris is tired and daubed with anti-possession sigils, but she also has tentacles and is smiling.]

Dillon? Can you 'ave a look at Abigail? I don't know if it's the same thing I 'ad, but summat's up with 'er all right.

[private]

[orderfromchaos]

[When he saw her, Abigail was - oh Christ, Abigail. He goes a little white, highlights his very faint freckles.]

Same beast, different breed.

I'll find her.

Thank you.

Private

[takeyouapart]

[Not quite present-dated but a while after this is posted.]

Thank you.

Private

[orderfromchaos]

Hey, man. You back to yourself again?

[Still F A I R L Y concerned.]

god this is late oops

[adelphoktonos]

[Helena doesn't try to dismiss his words, doesn't want to rationalise them away. This is an answer for how she's been feeling, for the rage that's been filling her chest and throat, itching inside her bones. This is something she can cling to. Starve them.]

How? [Her voice is harsh, demanding, her face twisted up; she's fighting it but the anger has been chewing at the inside of her for days now. The bloody, tattered wings that sprouted from her back tangle with her hair as they switch back and forth with her agitation.] Tell me how.

s'cool

[orderfromchaos]

[SHit. Shit. Okay.]

Have you ever, like - balanced something on the back of your hand, or the top of your head? And you have to keep still, but not try and clench the muscles too hard, because that'll just make you quiver?

[semifreakingnormal]

[You can win.

It does resonate, thrums through his chest and rattles through his brain. It feels - for the first time in what feels like weeks, he wonders if something's wrong, something that isn't just - him. For the last week or more, he's been so certain of that: he's the problem, he's the one no one should have ever put their faith in. He's struggling to fight against it now, and that only because of that power behind Dillon's voice.

You can win.

Scott swallows hard, looking just as unnerved as he feels.]

How....how do you know? [He keeps picking a new set of eyes to stare at.]

[orderfromchaos]

If they could beat you in the open, they'd be predators instead of parasites.

[Obviously. Obviously. Stern and firm and a little warm with the confiding of it, the half-smile of friends who secretly have the answer.]

They lie, they hide, they use yourself against you. Because they know you're stronger than they are.