[OPEN] And so I'm having a wonderful time

[spaghettification]

Who: Siebren and You
What: Post-Cult Recovery, Information Dissemination and general Siebrenity
When:Mid-July
Where: Places and also locations
Warning(s): Discussion of mental health and trauma likely, along with cult event CWs. Also, heavy alcohol use.

1. A woman came up to me and said [Library]
Regardless of what's in Siebren's head, he still shows up to work. Sometimes, he focuses on simple matters; reshelving, cleaning, dealing with things that need him to be tol (or rather, to be not-grounded). Other times, he'll be at the reference desk, nose-deep into some sort of book. He's doing a very good job at presenting himself as stable and pushing himself to be useful. He's making a point of not isolating himself from his community.

Those who know him more than passingly, though, can tell he's distracted and a bit absent. Moments when he hangs like a bad internet connection. Perhaps it's time to check in on your local sad science grandpa.


2. I'd like to poison your mind [Oak and Iron]
If you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget.

Siebren is drinking. Heavily. He's alone at a table at the Oak and Iron, a bottle of wine and a single glass in front of him, and he is getting himself thoroughly shitfaced. For better or worse, he seems a quiet, depressive sort of drunk rather than a disruptive one (though his bottle occasionally floats over the table instead of sitting neatly on it). But this is clearly not a celebratory sort of drinking.

Still, if you acquire a glass from the staff, he might be encouraged to share, just so he's not drinking that whole bottle alone.


3. With wrong ideas that appeal to you [Empty Pockets Open Mic]
There's a song stuck in his head. Oh, it has been there for a while now, but now, it's stuck deeper than usual, running around the edges of his mind at all hours. Luckily, there are appropriate times and places to pass an earworm along. Like open mic night.

While he warms up with some Phillip Glass, some Satie, he jumps into the main event quickly, a look of concentration on his face as he draws down the music of the universe and plays it back.

Catch him after his performance, before he slips out the back door?


4. Though I am not unkind [Wildcard]
[As usual, darkersolstice on discord to plot. Or throw yourself at me, I'm easy.]

Comments

[spaghettification]

"Why is letting myself in my head a scarier prospect than you being in there?" He intends for it to sound like a joke. It is absolutely not.

[blindwatchersees]

"Because, mien lieve doctor, I am much less inclined towards being your worst enemy."

He hops down into the mouth of the cave, sliding on the leaf litter, as if he's a creature absolutely in his element.

[spaghettification]

"Feh." Siebren follows, continuing to do his floating thing rather than touching the earth, but there's good reason for that, really. He doesn't need the weight of his body on old joints along with all his other current issues.

[blindwatchersees]

As they venture deeper, strange things begin to happen. The air grows heavier and a bit hazy, the sweet smell growing all the more pronounced. Odd, colorful mushrooms sprout wherever the old man’s fingertips brush. There’s an unfamiliar chirping of frogs echoing from deeper in the caverns. And, perhaps the oddest of all, even at this depth, butterflies flit by from time to time.

Of course, the usual wildlife is down here as well. Actually… is that a Greenstrider?

[spaghettification]

The greenstriders are a threat, right? Siebren automatically places himself between it and Sheogorath like a good tank, already bracing for a fight, reaching for his one remaining hypersphere.

[blindwatchersees]

The creatures do take notice, charging, chittering, ducking and weaving. Siebren can hear Sheogorath shift on his feet behind him, but there's not enough time to turn around and see what he's doing.

[spaghettification]

The hypersphere is not thrown so much as it is launched. Sent out to impact a foreign object, explode and then return to Siebren. The rhythm is off because there's only one hypersphere, the other lost in the House of Cards on his journey with George. But even with one, Siebren can be an effective weapon, building to a potential gravitic flux to end the threat.

And the music starts to play in the back of his head.

[blindwatchersees]

The Greenstriders are easily dealt with, and Sheogorath holds back from intervening, letting Siebren do his thing. He does, however, smile quietly as he listens to the music, ideas and feelings blooming in him. When they get to the depths, perhaps Siebren should come face to face with... ah, well, it's a little too early to commit to that, now, isn't it?

"Do you ever try figuring out if there are numbers in that music?" He's not one for calculations himself, but he still feels the need to ask. They'd be chaotic enough numbers, he's sure, that they wouldn't make his teeth itch.

[spaghettification]

"Nyarlathotep said the music was the universe itself, how my mind translates it. Het universum zingt voor mij." He doesn't seem to be awed by this, or even happy with it. "Cracked open wide enough for all sorts of things to leak in."

[blindwatchersees]

“The music is the universe, yes, but is the universe music? There’s a subtle difference there. Things aren’t always the same looking forward and back. Speaking of, mind the broken-off roots, they’ll certainly have you looking a few different ways if you get a face full of the spores they sometimes spew.”

He taps one such root with his cane, its splintered ends dripping with sap and a thin plume of luminous spores cooling out from a hollow pocket inside of it.

[spaghettification]

"The universe isn't music alone, but it is wholly music. Even if the song is often Cage's 4'33". I once heard the story of an American teacher who refused to teach the song on in a college course, for fear of students hearing the protests outside the building instead of what they were 'supposed' to hear. He missed the point of the song entirely, don't you think?"

It connects to the question he was asked somehow, that anecdote.

[blindwatchersees]

Ha pauses, closes his eyes, thinking, somehow frowning and smiling at the same time.

"A curious thing it is, when we try to wholly curate our senses, instead of letting them take the reins. The senses can be an oppressive thing, a curse, when they roar to cacophonous crescendo and swallow us whole. The flickering lantern lights roar brighter than a supernova, and the beating of our hearts thunder like cannonfire. But... to try and drown out the sound of 'silence,' in all its deafening terror, we often drown out the ability to think, filling the space between our ears with empty calories of babble. But of course, thinking can be painful and debilitating in its own right."

A beat.

"Music is rather like tea, isn't it? Some will tell you that it must be Ceylon and Indian, and the milk must always be added second. But I rather like my herbs and berries, my clover and ginger, and I delight when a stranger tells me they cannot abide such a combination."