fluxscape | Closed - Won't you please talk to me

Entry tags:

Closed - Won't you please talk to me

Who: Donna and Mysterio
Where: House Beneviento
When: June 26th
What: Quentin and Donna had set up a lunch visit - unfortunately, things have gotten a little...rough since then.

CW: Trauma, body horror. Will add if necessary.

Donna had actually been looking forward to this day since they had planned it. Evie had done much to work on helping her to come out of her shell, and Quentin had so far shown himself to perhaps be another potential kindred spirit. She and Angie had talked it over, planning to make a nice little lunch and have some good conversation over a little coffee. Making friends. Something still alien, but...a little exciting all the same.

But that was then. Now it's the day and the time, and instead of having the chance to even be nervous about having company, the puppeteer is hunched on the floor in her entryway, shaking after a strange tearing sensation had wracked her whole body. Donna is no stranger to terrible pain, far from it - that's not why she's crying. Angie is cradled in her arms, unmoving, lifeless. Her Angie. Her voice. It's all wrong, all wrong.

She's trying to be ready, just in case he still came, but the doubt has set in without Angie 'there' to bolster her.

"Oh, please...please talk, I don't know if I can do this without you...."

No answer. She knows there's not going to be one right now. She sets her jaw and throws her voice to the dummy from behind her veil, using skills she hasn't had to exercise in a while.

"I bet he won't even come! You're USELESS without me! You're...you're...."

The words dissolve into more sobs, near enough to the front door to be audible.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Angie's silence is...very difficult for Donna. She isn't normally this talkative herself, after all.

"Oh," the puppeteer breathes, her one visible eye widening a little. "That must have been so wonderful. I'm sure you must be an incredible craftsman." A sip of coffee. Her hand is still shaking a little.

"What did you use to make monsters? I really don't know anything about any of this, and I'm very interested."

"Oh, there are many tricks to bring such fantastical beings to life," he's happy to talk about it, his enthusiasm showing as he goes on. "If from scratch, sculptures can be made, cast and created with painting and puppetry. I've also created things with mechanical robotics and optical illusions. There are many methods and I've used them all."

For the first time since Donna has known Quentin, he can see her as she gets noticeably, genuinely excited. Her pale face flushes a fraction, eye sparkling as she leans a little forward in her seat.

"Oh, that's amazing! I...I make dolls, and puppets, plainly, but nothing on that level. I imagine you could teach me a thing or two, Mister Beck." The words are spoken in an excited rush - and after a moment, she seems to realize herself, pulling herself back in her seat.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just don't...usually meet anyone who...likes these things as much as I do."

He's glad to see her enthusiasm in return. He's used to more mockery and people telling him that he was wasting his time with such things - especially when he was a kid.

Beck smiles at her, clearly pleased.

"Don't be sorry. Likewise, truly. Not everyone appreciates the craft."

Edited 2021-07-16 08:53 (UTC)

Donna smiles, breathing a sigh of relief, and takes a sip of her coffee. Reaching over, she 'helps' Angie have a 'sip' of tea. While she's hanging in there as best she can, it's more than a little evident that she's...really only doing so by a thread.

Probably a good thing she has company, huh?

"If you're interested, once we've finished eating, I can...show you my workshop?"

He's happy to be a positive distraction for her.

"Oh, I would like that very much," he says with genuine interest.

The puppeteer perks up noticeably at his enthusism, stealing a little glance at the part finished pieces on her table. She wonders what he'll think about the workshop, but she also doesn't want to get ahead of herself and be impolite.

"I hope the food is all right. I...I don't...entertain. Ever."

"Everything's fine," he says politely; the good guest.

He smiles at her reassuringly.

"Is there something special you're working on right now?"

He is more interested in what she does more than the lunch.

“Oh, good,” she breathes, relieved. A beat of silence as she searches for what to say - but then he decides for her, and she perks up again. No one ever asks. Maybe no one ever HAS, not before him, not before Evie.

It’s novel, and it helps her forget how much her scar is aching, how silent it is in here.

“Some new dolls,” she blurts out, unable to temper her excitement. “Since this place was empty when I arrived. It feels so empty, and I just can’t bear it. My wages from my…job…have been enough for me to get new supplies.”

"What job do you have here?" It's more casual questions, getting to know each other.

"Oh, I...we cashier. At the craft store."

From her tone, it's more than evident that it's mostly Angie doing the interacting with people. But that suits Donna just fine, too.

"What about you?"

"I make electronics repairs at a DIY shop. Gives me time to tinker and check out what the latest gadgets are too," he replies.

"Oh! I'm...I'm terrible with electronics," she admits, swirling her tea in her mug. "I know...knew someone who was better, but it's all I can do to keep the lights on. I'm better with things like levers and springs."

Reaching over to the edge of the table, she picks up a doll head she's been carving, holding it out to him. It's being made into a ventriloquist's style dummy - the eye mechanism fully built, but the jaw unfinished.

"The job I have is...not well fit for someone like me...but there are supplies. Much the same as yours, I suppose."

This may actually be the most she's spoken in one sitting.

He inspects the doll head with interest.

"I started off with more practical effects. Puppetry. Big rigged up monsters with moving parts. Smoke machines. Stop motion moving into animatronics. Later I used hard light technology to create realistic illusions. Creatures. Dinosaurs," he smiles a bit. "I made some fantastical scenes."

It's pretty well-made, really - it's not done, but the carving that has been worked is very fine. Donna's clearly been doing this for a long time.

"What is...hard light, Mister Beck?" Hearing about these things is still so alien - the village had electricity, but only just. Televisions with antennae were the height of technology.

"Do you know what holograms are?" His tone is patient.

"No, no I don't. If it's...newer than radio, or a television...."

Sort of explains a lot about her demeanor, that. Old fashioned.

"It's... something better to show you rather than explain. But we can do that another time. Um. Basically, it's like a three dimensional image. Like a photograph but I can make it move like television pictures and then look like it's standing right in front of you. As a hologram you wouldn't be able to touch it - like you can't touch a rainbow. The light can be seen but shines right through. But with hard light you can feel it and to a limited degree it can interact with others," he tries to explain simply anyway.

The concept is a little confusing - but Donna does pay attention, trying to picture what it must be like. It's quite a lot to take in.

"I see, so...it's like...a projector, but it projects...something solid?"

"Basically, yes. It would seem to be so much more realistic that way," he says. "And... destructive, if that's needed."

"Destructive?" She pauses, mid sip of coffee.

"Why would you need destruction?"

He grimaces, not looking at her.

"I used to do bad things. Crime. Robbery. It was a good distraction."

"Oh."

Softly. There is a long moment of awkward silence before, matter-of-factly -

"I have murdered many people. Or worse. I...cannot judge you, Mister Beck." A sip of her coffee, then she sets the cup down, looking to the sunny yellow flower decorating the table.

"Do you see those flowers?"

He's about to answer to her admission but then he concentrates instead on her question.

"Yes. What about them? Are they poisonous..?"

It's the first place his villainous mind goes.

"Not on their own."

She looks over to him, expression vaguely uncomfortable...but at peace, just a little. She feels that he won't judge her.

"They're spliced with a...unique type of mycete. And...so am I. Normally, I generate a pheromone...that reacts with the flowers. It makes people...see things." She frowns, looking down to the table. "I've made people...see things. Sometimes scared them to death."

He listens carefully then nods slightly, more interested that judging.

"It sounds like a gas I used to use... It would also cause hallucinations. Vivid ones. And terrors."

Seems they had a lot in common.

Donna lets out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She knew he would understand, somehow.

She fixes him with a sad smile, the pain from the growth over her eye furrowing her brows a little. Without her powers, without Angie talking 'on her own,' she had been feeling...lost. But this is helping.

"...That does sound similar, yes." A beat. "I...I brought it up so that you would understand. I'm not in a position to judge you. Not at all."

He smiles a bit sadly, mirroring her expression in return.

"I'm sure we've both done things that we regret. It shouldn't take such drastic measures to change your ways but I... had to deal with a lot back home. Death. Hell. Torment... It's very hard to escape from your ultimate fate and I wonder if anything can really make a difference after such a life."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Closed - Won't you please talk to me

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject