Mayhem @mayhem-is-alive - Tumblr Blog

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

-I’ll come to you. Cyan needs to not have an easy escape route if he’s going to be honest.-

(Hollow says it bluntly, watching Cyan stir)

-Give us an hour.-

"We'll be here. Maybe I'll be able to get her headache under control in an hour." He grumbles, cutting out.

Alright.

(He turns to Cyan, passing him a water)

Get dressed. You and her are going to talk. I’ll help.

@sparklingcyan-kjrp

(Cyan looks petrified at the idea, but goes to change into an orange hoodie and blue jeans)

Fine. I’m changed. Let’s get this over with.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(He just nods, getting in the van with him and driving to Mayhem/Reverb’s place. Once they’re there, he radios again)

-We’re by the door.-

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem opens the door. The house looks like it's been freshly cleaned— probably Mayhem's work waiting for Reverb to sober up.

"You guys can have a seat on the couch. I'll.. get Reverb." He mutters, exhausted in every sense of the word.

(Cyan sits with his fist held to its chest, knuckles red and one of them scabbing over- Hollow sits next to it with an knee clicking)

Alright.

He leaves, coming back with Reverb.

Reverb immediately freezes at the sight of Hollow and Cyanide.

"I can't—"

Mayhem takes her by the back of the shirt like a misbehaving cat and sets her on the couch himself. "You're gonna." He states firmly, too exhausted.

(Cyanide stares at the floor, until Hollow tilts his head up gently. Hollow looks at Reverb and then at Cyanide)

I understand that this situation is far from okay, but we can’t just ignore things and bottle them up. Reverb, I’d like you to speak frankly to Cyan. Be as blunt as you need.

Reverb looks at Cyan, and then at Hollow, and then at Mayhem standing with his arms crossed.

"Baby, just lie. I'm sure you meant it, but you can tell him you didn't. Look at him, he's upset. You're upset. Just lie. It'll be okay."

Glycerin, standing too close to Reverb, in her head and in her ear.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head weakly.

Reverb… please. I can handle the truth.

(Cyan has one hand gripping Hollow’s for support)

"Cute sentiment. Not helpful, is it?"

Reverb is picking at her already-raw knuckles, blood staining under her nails. "I'm sick of watching you flinch at everything. I can't— you heard enough when I was drunk out of my head."

I did. And I know.

(It pauses)

I’m not sure why I’m still flinching.

"I don't blame you for it." Reverb states, trying to clarify.

It's obvious she's not going to say much, at least not with so many people in the room.

(Hollow looks at Mayhem, trying to convey that at least one of them should leave)

(Cyan just nods, because it knows that)

Mayhem glances back at Hollow, trying to convey that both of them should leave.

Reverb seems determined to mess up her knuckles from the amount of picking she's doing.

I’m grabbing a drink.

(Cyan nods in acknowledgment, and Hollow gets up and leaves the room)

Mayhem follows.

Reverb keeps picking at her knuckles, blood across all of them.

"Baby, just tell him something. Anything."

Reverb closes her eyes.

I didn’t realise how much I was… still doing. Habits I didn’t realise weren’t normal.

"It's normal for the situation, but still frustrating."

Reverb mutters, more like an automatic response than anything else.

That’s not the only thing you’re frustrated about. Talk.

(Cyan waits, patient. It’ll wait forever if it needs to)

"Was Nova right? Are we competing?"

Her voice is so weak, barely audible, like she's scared of the answer.

Maybe I feel like you're my *competition.

Competition? We aren't competing for anything.

Aren't we?

Are we?

"Are we? Am I in some sick game of tug of war I'm never going to win?"

No. I’m not hers. She isn’t mine… she isn’t my anything except someone who loves to hurt me.

(He takes a breath, struggling a little for the words he needs)

I don’t want her back. I don’t want her to care or to want me or to forgive me- I did nothing wrong. I… I think I haven’t fully forgotten the things that made me flinch. I don’t remember them either. I don’t need her to answer for that. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. She doesn’t matter to me. That sick tug of war is not happening.

She nods, not sure she believes anything he's saying, or maybe she's just not processing it all yet.

"I— forget I said anything. Forget I got drunk and said anything last night. I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cyanide."

Do I still have the right to call him Cyan? Almond?

Her fingers are bloodstained from picking.

I don’t think you need to apologise.

(Cyan half reaches out to try and stop her from picking, but hesitates to touch her)

"I don't know what the fuck they want me to talk about. I was fuckin' plastered, I couldn't see straight, let alone think. I said stupid shit, not anything truthful. And I'm sorry I said anything. I have nothing to say. I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck they want!" Reverb scratches at her knuckles before balling her hands— not in anger at anyone in particular but in frustration at everything. Especially with Glycerin whispering in her ear, not that she'll mention it.

(Cyanide breathes quietly, processing for a moment)

Maybe it’s the things you said when drunk. They want you to tell me about your… worries? … but properly, I think. And they wanted me to be a little more honest about my own.

Reverb scrubs her face. "I can't do this. I am not good at this. I don't know how to do this!" She says in frustration. "I never got to do this with Glycerin. We never had conversations. Nothing ended with words." She scoffs.

I have a small amount of experience, but not much… Nova didn’t not converse, but…

(Cyan struggles to find the words he’s looking for, itching at a small mark on his side- Reverb can’t quite see it, but it’s a needle mark)

Reverb looks incredibly frustrated at the mention of Nova. She clenches her jaw for a minute before just going silent.

(It struggles with the word for another minute before giving up, sighing at himself in frustration that it’s upset her and that it can’t find the word)

Reverb rubs her bloody knuckles and walks off to her room with a muttered apology and several curses.

"Well. The phrase is keep running."

(Hollow sees as soon as Cyan manages to get up, staring after her and then looking at Hollow)

I didn’t mean to upset her again…

I know. So does she… Mayhem?

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem looks vaguely frustrated.

He walks to Reverb's room, knocking. "Reverb, either you get out here or I come in. Pick one. 10 seconds."

Not sounding particularly angry, just concerned and frustrated.

(Hollow steps back with Cyan, not wanting to overwhelm her)

There's no response from Reverb. After a moment, Mayhem sighs, opening her door.

She's just on her bed, staring at the wall.

"Reverb. You have to talk. You can't just lock yourself up because a conversation got hard." He states.

@hollow-point-killjoy

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

-I’ll come to you. Cyan needs to not have an easy escape route if he’s going to be honest.-

(Hollow says it bluntly, watching Cyan stir)

-Give us an hour.-

"We'll be here. Maybe I'll be able to get her headache under control in an hour." He grumbles, cutting out.

Alright.

(He turns to Cyan, passing him a water)

Get dressed. You and her are going to talk. I’ll help.

@sparklingcyan-kjrp

(Cyan looks petrified at the idea, but goes to change into an orange hoodie and blue jeans)

Fine. I’m changed. Let’s get this over with.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(He just nods, getting in the van with him and driving to Mayhem/Reverb’s place. Once they’re there, he radios again)

-We’re by the door.-

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem opens the door. The house looks like it's been freshly cleaned— probably Mayhem's work waiting for Reverb to sober up.

"You guys can have a seat on the couch. I'll.. get Reverb." He mutters, exhausted in every sense of the word.

(Cyan sits with his fist held to its chest, knuckles red and one of them scabbing over- Hollow sits next to it with an knee clicking)

Alright.

He leaves, coming back with Reverb.

Reverb immediately freezes at the sight of Hollow and Cyanide.

"I can't—"

Mayhem takes her by the back of the shirt like a misbehaving cat and sets her on the couch himself. "You're gonna." He states firmly, too exhausted.

(Cyanide stares at the floor, until Hollow tilts his head up gently. Hollow looks at Reverb and then at Cyanide)

I understand that this situation is far from okay, but we can’t just ignore things and bottle them up. Reverb, I’d like you to speak frankly to Cyan. Be as blunt as you need.

Reverb looks at Cyan, and then at Hollow, and then at Mayhem standing with his arms crossed.

"Baby, just lie. I'm sure you meant it, but you can tell him you didn't. Look at him, he's upset. You're upset. Just lie. It'll be okay."

Glycerin, standing too close to Reverb, in her head and in her ear.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head weakly.

Reverb… please. I can handle the truth.

(Cyan has one hand gripping Hollow’s for support)

"Cute sentiment. Not helpful, is it?"

Reverb is picking at her already-raw knuckles, blood staining under her nails. "I'm sick of watching you flinch at everything. I can't— you heard enough when I was drunk out of my head."

I did. And I know.

(It pauses)

I’m not sure why I’m still flinching.

"I don't blame you for it." Reverb states, trying to clarify.

It's obvious she's not going to say much, at least not with so many people in the room.

(Hollow looks at Mayhem, trying to convey that at least one of them should leave)

(Cyan just nods, because it knows that)

Mayhem glances back at Hollow, trying to convey that both of them should leave.

Reverb seems determined to mess up her knuckles from the amount of picking she's doing.

I’m grabbing a drink.

(Cyan nods in acknowledgment, and Hollow gets up and leaves the room)

Mayhem follows.

Reverb keeps picking at her knuckles, blood across all of them.

"Baby, just tell him something. Anything."

Reverb closes her eyes.

I didn’t realise how much I was… still doing. Habits I didn’t realise weren’t normal.

"It's normal for the situation, but still frustrating."

Reverb mutters, more like an automatic response than anything else.

That’s not the only thing you’re frustrated about. Talk.

(Cyan waits, patient. It’ll wait forever if it needs to)

"Was Nova right? Are we competing?"

Her voice is so weak, barely audible, like she's scared of the answer.

Maybe I feel like you're my *competition.

Competition? We aren't competing for anything.

Aren't we?

Are we?

"Are we? Am I in some sick game of tug of war I'm never going to win?"

No. I’m not hers. She isn’t mine… she isn’t my anything except someone who loves to hurt me.

(He takes a breath, struggling a little for the words he needs)

I don’t want her back. I don’t want her to care or to want me or to forgive me- I did nothing wrong. I… I think I haven’t fully forgotten the things that made me flinch. I don’t remember them either. I don’t need her to answer for that. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. She doesn’t matter to me. That sick tug of war is not happening.

She nods, not sure she believes anything he's saying, or maybe she's just not processing it all yet.

"I— forget I said anything. Forget I got drunk and said anything last night. I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cyanide."

Do I still have the right to call him Cyan? Almond?

Her fingers are bloodstained from picking.

I don’t think you need to apologise.

(Cyan half reaches out to try and stop her from picking, but hesitates to touch her)

"I don't know what the fuck they want me to talk about. I was fuckin' plastered, I couldn't see straight, let alone think. I said stupid shit, not anything truthful. And I'm sorry I said anything. I have nothing to say. I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck they want!" Reverb scratches at her knuckles before balling her hands— not in anger at anyone in particular but in frustration at everything. Especially with Glycerin whispering in her ear, not that she'll mention it.

(Cyanide breathes quietly, processing for a moment)

Maybe it’s the things you said when drunk. They want you to tell me about your… worries? … but properly, I think. And they wanted me to be a little more honest about my own.

Reverb scrubs her face. "I can't do this. I am not good at this. I don't know how to do this!" She says in frustration. "I never got to do this with Glycerin. We never had conversations. Nothing ended with words." She scoffs.

I have a small amount of experience, but not much… Nova didn’t not converse, but…

(Cyan struggles to find the words he’s looking for, itching at a small mark on his side- Reverb can’t quite see it, but it’s a needle mark)

Reverb looks incredibly frustrated at the mention of Nova. She clenches her jaw for a minute before just going silent.

(It struggles with the word for another minute before giving up, sighing at himself in frustration that it’s upset her and that it can’t find the word)

Reverb rubs her bloody knuckles and walks off to her room with a muttered apology and several curses.

"Well. The phrase is keep running."

(Hollow sees as soon as Cyan manages to get up, staring after her and then looking at Hollow)

I didn’t mean to upset her again…

I know. So does she… Mayhem?

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem looks vaguely frustrated.

He walks to Reverb's room, knocking. "Reverb, either you get out here or I come in. Pick one. 10 seconds."

Not sounding particularly angry, just concerned and frustrated.

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

-I’ll come to you. Cyan needs to not have an easy escape route if he’s going to be honest.-

(Hollow says it bluntly, watching Cyan stir)

-Give us an hour.-

"We'll be here. Maybe I'll be able to get her headache under control in an hour." He grumbles, cutting out.

Alright.

(He turns to Cyan, passing him a water)

Get dressed. You and her are going to talk. I’ll help.

@sparklingcyan-kjrp

(Cyan looks petrified at the idea, but goes to change into an orange hoodie and blue jeans)

Fine. I’m changed. Let’s get this over with.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(He just nods, getting in the van with him and driving to Mayhem/Reverb’s place. Once they’re there, he radios again)

-We’re by the door.-

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem opens the door. The house looks like it's been freshly cleaned— probably Mayhem's work waiting for Reverb to sober up.

"You guys can have a seat on the couch. I'll.. get Reverb." He mutters, exhausted in every sense of the word.

(Cyan sits with his fist held to its chest, knuckles red and one of them scabbing over- Hollow sits next to it with an knee clicking)

Alright.

He leaves, coming back with Reverb.

Reverb immediately freezes at the sight of Hollow and Cyanide.

"I can't—"

Mayhem takes her by the back of the shirt like a misbehaving cat and sets her on the couch himself. "You're gonna." He states firmly, too exhausted.

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

-I’ll come to you. Cyan needs to not have an easy escape route if he’s going to be honest.-

(Hollow says it bluntly, watching Cyan stir)

-Give us an hour.-

"We'll be here. Maybe I'll be able to get her headache under control in an hour." He grumbles, cutting out.

Alright.

(He turns to Cyan, passing him a water)

Get dressed. You and her are going to talk. I’ll help.

@sparklingcyan-kjrp

(Cyan looks petrified at the idea, but goes to change into an orange hoodie and blue jeans)

Fine. I’m changed. Let’s get this over with.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(He just nods, getting in the van with him and driving to Mayhem/Reverb’s place. Once they’re there, he radios again)

-We’re by the door.-

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem opens the door. The house looks like it's been freshly cleaned— probably Mayhem's work waiting for Reverb to sober up.

"You guys can have a seat on the couch. I'll.. get Reverb." He mutters, exhausted in every sense of the word.

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

-I’ll come to you. Cyan needs to not have an easy escape route if he’s going to be honest.-

(Hollow says it bluntly, watching Cyan stir)

-Give us an hour.-

"We'll be here. Maybe I'll be able to get her headache under control in an hour." He grumbles, cutting out.

Mayhem radios Hollow.

"She's sober. The hangover's a bitch, but she's sober."

It's obviously been a long night for him, he sounds tired.

@mayhem-is-alive

-Good. Cyan’s waking up, slowly.-

(Hollow sounds almost as tired, the night having been a long one all round)

-Do we want them to talk now?-

A sigh. "Might as well. You over at our place or us over at yours?"

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

(The feelings are certainly mutual)

-That wasn’t pretty. For anyone. What’s…-

(He momentarily searches for words)

-.. is she okay, first of all. And are you?-

"I don't know. I don't know anymore, Hollow." He sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay. I don't think she is. I don't know how many signs I missed before this happened."

"I'm so tired."

A pause. "I can assume Cyan isn't doing okay. What about you?"

-I should’ve muted it. But it was… a lot to take in.-

(Hollow listens)

-I’ll cope. Cyan’s downstairs. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but he’ll be okay… what was all that?-

"I don't know— she was drunk. Drunk! She hasn't touched alcohol since—"

Mayhem feels like his throat is closing.

"Glycerin. She hasn't drank since Glycerin."

-I can imply enough to understand just how bad that is. Cyan… made that quite clear.-

She doesn’t like alcohol!

(The words repeat themselves)

-What can I do? To fix this? To help them both?-

"I don't know. Witch— I don't know." Mayhem sounds increasingly frustrated, but mostly just tired.

"I don't know if talking will help? I don't think not talking will help, though."

-What if I were to try and mediate? Sit with them… or something.-

(Hollow scratches at his beard with a frown)

-I don’t know. But I have to try.-

Mayhem sighs.

"We can try that..." A sigh. "I'll radio you when she's sober. We'll go from there."

-Okay.-

(Before he cuts off he hears what sounds like a cry of pain that just about comes through the radio as well)

-I’m going to attempt to deal with that.-

"Goodluck." Mayhem mutters.

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

(The feelings are certainly mutual)

-That wasn’t pretty. For anyone. What’s…-

(He momentarily searches for words)

-.. is she okay, first of all. And are you?-

"I don't know. I don't know anymore, Hollow." He sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay. I don't think she is. I don't know how many signs I missed before this happened."

"I'm so tired."

A pause. "I can assume Cyan isn't doing okay. What about you?"

-I should’ve muted it. But it was… a lot to take in.-

(Hollow listens)

-I’ll cope. Cyan’s downstairs. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but he’ll be okay… what was all that?-

"I don't know— she was drunk. Drunk! She hasn't touched alcohol since—"

Mayhem feels like his throat is closing.

"Glycerin. She hasn't drank since Glycerin."

-I can imply enough to understand just how bad that is. Cyan… made that quite clear.-

She doesn’t like alcohol!

(The words repeat themselves)

-What can I do? To fix this? To help them both?-

"I don't know. Witch— I don't know." Mayhem sounds increasingly frustrated, but mostly just tired.

"I don't know if talking will help? I don't think not talking will help, though."

-What if I were to try and mediate? Sit with them… or something.-

(Hollow scratches at his beard with a frown)

-I don’t know. But I have to try.-

Mayhem sighs.

"We can try that..." A sigh. "I'll radio you when she's sober. We'll go from there."

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

(The feelings are certainly mutual)

-That wasn’t pretty. For anyone. What’s…-

(He momentarily searches for words)

-.. is she okay, first of all. And are you?-

"I don't know. I don't know anymore, Hollow." He sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay. I don't think she is. I don't know how many signs I missed before this happened."

"I'm so tired."

A pause. "I can assume Cyan isn't doing okay. What about you?"

-I should’ve muted it. But it was… a lot to take in.-

(Hollow listens)

-I’ll cope. Cyan’s downstairs. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but he’ll be okay… what was all that?-

"I don't know— she was drunk. Drunk! She hasn't touched alcohol since—"

Mayhem feels like his throat is closing.

"Glycerin. She hasn't drank since Glycerin."

-I can imply enough to understand just how bad that is. Cyan… made that quite clear.-

She doesn’t like alcohol!

(The words repeat themselves)

-What can I do? To fix this? To help them both?-

"I don't know. Witch— I don't know." Mayhem sounds increasingly frustrated, but mostly just tired.

"I don't know if talking will help? I don't think not talking will help, though."

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

(The feelings are certainly mutual)

-That wasn’t pretty. For anyone. What’s…-

(He momentarily searches for words)

-.. is she okay, first of all. And are you?-

"I don't know. I don't know anymore, Hollow." He sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay. I don't think she is. I don't know how many signs I missed before this happened."

"I'm so tired."

A pause. "I can assume Cyan isn't doing okay. What about you?"

-I should’ve muted it. But it was… a lot to take in.-

(Hollow listens)

-I’ll cope. Cyan’s downstairs. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but he’ll be okay… what was all that?-

"I don't know— she was drunk. Drunk! She hasn't touched alcohol since—"

Mayhem feels like his throat is closing.

"Glycerin. She hasn't drank since Glycerin."

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

(The feelings are certainly mutual)

-That wasn’t pretty. For anyone. What’s…-

(He momentarily searches for words)

-.. is she okay, first of all. And are you?-

"I don't know. I don't know anymore, Hollow." He sighs.

"I hope she'll be okay. I don't think she is. I don't know how many signs I missed before this happened."

"I'm so tired."

A pause. "I can assume Cyan isn't doing okay. What about you?"

(After listening by the basement door long enough to hear the louder sobs start to mute, Hollow picks up the radio)

-Mayhem.-

@hollow-point-killjoy

A heavy, shaking sigh crackles through as he picks up. "Hollow."

He sounds upset, and so tired.

Reverb is sitting on the floor, drinking soda almost sluggishly. Quite clearly plastered.

Glycerin had finally disappeared. Not that she expects that to be permanent.

@reverb-rotting

Mayhem comes home, walking in to find her. “What the—”

Reverb smiles, the expression somehow both lethargic and too-tight. “Hey, Mayhem.”

“You’ve been drinking.” It comes out more like a baffled question than a statement.

“Mhm. And I’m drunk.”

“...I see that.”

“Not drugged! Drunk.” Reverb laughs, sipping the soda.

“Drug—? Reverb— what’s this about?”

I spend all night at a bar drinking! Till I get cut off! Don't get drugged once! He can't be there an hour without getting himself drugged up! A grown man can't figure out how to keep his drinks safe.” She exclaims, slightly slurred, obviously upset. Inebriated laughter interrupts her sentences.

He winces, audibly. “Reverb.. you know that's not fair. Nova’s back. She—”

Reverb scoffs. “Oh! Oh, right! Of course, silly me. I forgot my record wasn't there to drug me!” Her laughter dissolves into angry cackling.

“I wonder— hah— If Nova and Glycerin ever—hahaha— traded drugs! Glycerin was a fan of PCP!” She giggles, swigging her soda. “Said I was easier that way. Cute, right!? I'm easier… on a bad trip… than sober.”

Mayhem makes a pained sound. “Reverb—”

Reverb grins, the expression too angry. “What?”

Mayhem closes his eyes, choosing not to mention Glycerin yet. “Nova’s not his record. You are.”

"Horseshit."

“I— What?”

“She’s still there. She’s still got her filthy claws in it. We’ll—” She laughs. “We’ll be cuddling, right? Cuddling. And he’s looking off to the side like she’s just gonna magically appear! As if I’m not right fuckin’ there! I’ll have a full conversation with it and it's got half its mind on me and half its mind on her!”

She swigs her soda.

“Her, her, always her!” She practically spits the words.

He stays silent for a moment, unsure what to even say. What would make this better? How many signs did he miss?

“The radioactive bitch is haunting it even after we lit her on fire.”

She gestures wildly with her free hand.

“It’s’not like she didn’t toss it around, and toss me around. S’not like I had broken ribs. S’not like she slashed my stomach with Hollow’s letter opener. It ain’t like I had to wake his broken ass up from unconsciousness in the backroom because she beat him so bad! Not like he was wheezing for breath! Not like I had to carry him! It ain’t like she had her hand around my fucking heart and squeezed!” Her rant is sarcastic and slurred.

A softer scoff this time. “Nah. She’s still his.”

Mayhem looks like he’s about to cry.

He only knew half of that.

She frowns at her empty soda, gripping the bottle too tight. “It's not like I talk about Glycerin.” She mutters.

His jaw clenches, closing his eyes.

“I don't say anything about him. It's not like anybody would know if I still had nightmares about him. Still saw him for a minute when I wake up.” A scoff. “Cyan certainly wouldn't fucking know because he's too busy focusing on fffffucking Novacaine!” She’s a little loud this time.

“He's still checking exits…" A laugh. What's worse! He's still giving me those bullshit robot responses she trained it into!” Another loud, drunken sentence.

“Maybe Hel Hyde was right.”

You always pick the weak links, don't you, pretty girl? First Cyanide, now Dagger. When will you get bored with pathetic men?

Protective of that mutt you have behind you?

Mayhem was unaware he's been broadcasting this to Hollow by accidentally.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(There’s a beat, then another, before Hollow decides to intervene as Cyan sits paralysed on the floor beside him)

-Ahem. I think we need to have a proper conversation about this.-

(Hollow cuts off before Cyanide makes a squeaky sound)

"Fuck—! I'm sorry. I didn't know I was broadcasting." Mayhem says before making sure he cuts off.

(Cyan stares at Hollow for a long moment, voice flat)

I’ll never stop hurting her, will I.

Meanwhile, Reverb's still spiraling—albeit giving way to exhaustion.

She laughs. "A proper conversation! A proper conversation? How!? I can't talk to him! He walks on eggshells! I'm not gonna get a word in with him!" She yells.

"Not without feeling bad! As if I don't already fucking feel awful!" Another shout.

@mayhem-is-alive

Mayhem rubs his temples.

"I...."

A long silence.

"I know." He sighs. "Let's get you to bed."

He mutters, following Reverb to her room and making sure she's safely hit the bed before he walks out and sits on the couch. His head is in his hands.

Reverb is sitting on the floor, drinking soda almost sluggishly. Quite clearly plastered.

Glycerin had finally disappeared. Not that she expects that to be permanent.

@reverb-rotting

Mayhem comes home, walking in to find her. “What the—”

Reverb smiles, the expression somehow both lethargic and too-tight. “Hey, Mayhem.”

“You’ve been drinking.” It comes out more like a baffled question than a statement.

“Mhm. And I’m drunk.”

“...I see that.”

“Not drugged! Drunk.” Reverb laughs, sipping the soda.

“Drug—? Reverb— what’s this about?”

I spend all night at a bar drinking! Till I get cut off! Don't get drugged once! He can't be there an hour without getting himself drugged up! A grown man can't figure out how to keep his drinks safe.” She exclaims, slightly slurred, obviously upset. Inebriated laughter interrupts her sentences.

He winces, audibly. “Reverb.. you know that's not fair. Nova’s back. She—”

Reverb scoffs. “Oh! Oh, right! Of course, silly me. I forgot my record wasn't there to drug me!” Her laughter dissolves into angry cackling.

“I wonder— hah— If Nova and Glycerin ever—hahaha— traded drugs! Glycerin was a fan of PCP!” She giggles, swigging her soda. “Said I was easier that way. Cute, right!? I'm easier… on a bad trip… than sober.”

Mayhem makes a pained sound. “Reverb—”

Reverb grins, the expression too angry. “What?”

Mayhem closes his eyes, choosing not to mention Glycerin yet. “Nova’s not his record. You are.”

"Horseshit."

“I— What?”

“She’s still there. She’s still got her filthy claws in it. We’ll—” She laughs. “We’ll be cuddling, right? Cuddling. And he’s looking off to the side like she’s just gonna magically appear! As if I’m not right fuckin’ there! I’ll have a full conversation with it and it's got half its mind on me and half its mind on her!”

She swigs her soda.

“Her, her, always her!” She practically spits the words.

He stays silent for a moment, unsure what to even say. What would make this better? How many signs did he miss?

“The radioactive bitch is haunting it even after we lit her on fire.”

She gestures wildly with her free hand.

“It’s’not like she didn’t toss it around, and toss me around. S’not like I had broken ribs. S’not like she slashed my stomach with Hollow’s letter opener. It ain’t like I had to wake his broken ass up from unconsciousness in the backroom because she beat him so bad! Not like he was wheezing for breath! Not like I had to carry him! It ain’t like she had her hand around my fucking heart and squeezed!” Her rant is sarcastic and slurred.

A softer scoff this time. “Nah. She’s still his.”

Mayhem looks like he’s about to cry.

He only knew half of that.

She frowns at her empty soda, gripping the bottle too tight. “It's not like I talk about Glycerin.” She mutters.

His jaw clenches, closing his eyes.

“I don't say anything about him. It's not like anybody would know if I still had nightmares about him. Still saw him for a minute when I wake up.” A scoff. “Cyan certainly wouldn't fucking know because he's too busy focusing on fffffucking Novacaine!” She’s a little loud this time.

“He's still checking exits…" A laugh. What's worse! He's still giving me those bullshit robot responses she trained it into!” Another loud, drunken sentence.

“Maybe Hel Hyde was right.”

You always pick the weak links, don't you, pretty girl? First Cyanide, now Dagger. When will you get bored with pathetic men?

Protective of that mutt you have behind you?

Mayhem was unaware he's been broadcasting this to Hollow by accidentally.

@hollow-point-killjoy

(There’s a beat, then another, before Hollow decides to intervene as Cyan sits paralysed on the floor beside him)

-Ahem. I think we need to have a proper conversation about this.-

(Hollow cuts off before Cyanide makes a squeaky sound)

"Fuck—! I'm sorry. I didn't know I was broadcasting." Mayhem says before making sure he cuts off.

Reverb is sitting on the floor, drinking soda almost sluggishly. Quite clearly plastered.

Glycerin had finally disappeared. Not that she expects that to be permanent.

@reverb-rotting

Mayhem comes home, walking in to find her. “What the—”

Reverb smiles, the expression somehow both lethargic and too-tight. “Hey, Mayhem.”

“You’ve been drinking.” It comes out more like a baffled question than a statement.

“Mhm. And I’m drunk.”

“...I see that.”

“Not drugged! Drunk.” Reverb laughs, sipping the soda.

“Drug—? Reverb— what’s this about?”

I spend all night at a bar drinking! Till I get cut off! Don't get drugged once! He can't be there an hour without getting himself drugged up! A grown man can't figure out how to keep his drinks safe.” She exclaims, slightly slurred, obviously upset. Inebriated laughter interrupts her sentences.

He winces, audibly. “Reverb.. you know that's not fair. Nova’s back. She—”

Reverb scoffs. “Oh! Oh, right! Of course, silly me. I forgot my record wasn't there to drug me!” Her laughter dissolves into angry cackling.

“I wonder— hah— If Nova and Glycerin ever—hahaha— traded drugs! Glycerin was a fan of PCP!” She giggles, swigging her soda. “Said I was easier that way. Cute, right!? I'm easier… on a bad trip… than sober.”

Mayhem makes a pained sound. “Reverb—”

Reverb grins, the expression too angry. “What?”

Mayhem closes his eyes, choosing not to mention Glycerin yet. “Nova’s not his record. You are.”

"Horseshit."

“I— What?”

“She’s still there. She’s still got her filthy claws in it. We’ll—” She laughs. “We’ll be cuddling, right? Cuddling. And he’s looking off to the side like she’s just gonna magically appear! As if I’m not right fuckin’ there! I’ll have a full conversation with it and it's got half its mind on me and half its mind on her!”

She swigs her soda.

“Her, her, always her!” She practically spits the words.

He stays silent for a moment, unsure what to even say. What would make this better? How many signs did he miss?

“The radioactive bitch is haunting it even after we lit her on fire.”

She gestures wildly with her free hand.

“It’s’not like she didn’t toss it around, and toss me around. S’not like I had broken ribs. S’not like she slashed my stomach with Hollow’s letter opener. It ain’t like I had to wake his broken ass up from unconsciousness in the backroom because she beat him so bad! Not like he was wheezing for breath! Not like I had to carry him! It ain’t like she had her hand around my fucking heart and squeezed!” Her rant is sarcastic and slurred.

A softer scoff this time. “Nah. She’s still his.”

Mayhem looks like he’s about to cry.

He only knew half of that.

She frowns at her empty soda, gripping the bottle too tight. “It's not like I talk about Glycerin.” She mutters.

His jaw clenches, closing his eyes.

“I don't say anything about him. It's not like anybody would know if I still had nightmares about him. Still saw him for a minute when I wake up.” A scoff. “Cyan certainly wouldn't fucking know because he's too busy focusing on fffffucking Novacaine!” She’s a little loud this time.

“He's still checking exits…" A laugh. What's worse! He's still giving me those bullshit robot responses she trained it into!” Another loud, drunken sentence.

“Maybe Hel Hyde was right.”

You always pick the weak links, don't you, pretty girl? First Cyanide, now Dagger. When will you get bored with pathetic men?

Protective of that mutt you have behind you?

Mayhem was unaware he's been broadcasting this to Hollow by accidentally.

@hollow-point-killjoy

Reverb is sitting on the floor, drinking soda almost sluggishly. Quite clearly plastered.

Glycerin had finally disappeared. Not that she expects that to be permanent.

@reverb-rotting

Mayhem comes home, walking in to find her. “What the—”

Reverb smiles, the expression somehow both lethargic and too-tight. “Hey, Mayhem.”

“You’ve been drinking.” It comes out more like a baffled question than a statement.

“Mhm. And I’m drunk.”

“...I see that.”

“Not drugged! Drunk.” Reverb laughs, sipping the soda.

“Drug—? Reverb— what’s this about?”

I spend all night at a bar drinking! Till I get cut off! Don't get drugged once! He can't be there an hour without getting himself drugged up! A grown man can't figure out how to keep his drinks safe.” She exclaims, slightly slurred, obviously upset. Inebriated laughter interrupts her sentences.

He winces, audibly. “Reverb.. you know that's not fair. Nova’s back. She—”

Reverb scoffs. “Oh! Oh, right! Of course, silly me. I forgot my record wasn't there to drug me!” Her laughter dissolves into angry cackling.

“I wonder— hah— If Nova and Glycerin ever—hahaha— traded drugs! Glycerin was a fan of PCP!” She giggles, swigging her soda. “Said I was easier that way. Cute, right!? I'm easier… on a bad trip… than sober.”

Mayhem makes a pained sound. “Reverb—”

Reverb grins, the expression too angry. “What?”

Mayhem closes his eyes, choosing not to mention Glycerin yet. “Nova’s not his record. You are.”

"Horseshit."

“I— What?”

“She’s still there. She’s still got her filthy claws in it. We’ll—” She laughs. “We’ll be cuddling, right? Cuddling. And he’s looking off to the side like she’s just gonna magically appear! As if I’m not right fuckin’ there! I’ll have a full conversation with it and it's got half its mind on me and half its mind on her!”

She swigs her soda.

“Her, her, always her!” She practically spits the words.

He stays silent for a moment, unsure what to even say. What would make this better? How many signs did he miss?

“The radioactive bitch is haunting it even after we lit her on fire.”

She gestures wildly with her free hand.

“It’s’not like she didn’t toss it around, and toss me around. S’not like I had broken ribs. S’not like she slashed my stomach with Hollow’s letter opener. It ain’t like I had to wake his broken ass up from unconsciousness in the backroom because she beat him so bad! Not like he was wheezing for breath! Not like I had to carry him! It ain’t like she had her hand around my fucking heart and squeezed!” Her rant is sarcastic and slurred.

A softer scoff this time. “Nah. She’s still his.”

Mayhem looks like he’s about to cry.

He only knew half of that.

She frowns at her empty soda, gripping the bottle too tight. “It's not like I talk about Glycerin.” She mutters.

His jaw clenches, closing his eyes.