[OPEN] The world is spinning endlessly

[spaghettification]

Who: Siebren and friends
What: October Shenanigans
When:...October? Possibly also November
Where: Siebren's home, the
Warning(s): Potential cannibalism mentions, unreality, mental unwellness, memory manipulation (self-inflicted), more in comment titles

1. This is the sound of energy [Gala Aftermath]
You can't believe how easy it is. You just have to go... a little crazy. And then, suddenly, it all makes sense, and everything you do turns to gold.
He calls into work the morning after the gala. And a couple more days beyond that. In that time, he is
metamorphosing
assimilating
unpacking
digesting everything that occurred that night. He stays at home, alone, trying to avoid everyone and everything.

much. It's too
The fragments of past that he's avoided for their sharpness rotate in him mind, turning their points toward him, crystal shards of time that threaten him. And yet, some part of him reaches out with Pandoran curiosity, like Sleeping Beauty toward the spindle. What he pricks isn't a finger, but he feels the pain just as instantly. And yet, and yet...

too much. It's
There it is, the multiple choice past solidifying in fractals, like frost spidering across a windowpane. Siebren has no way of knowing whether this is a correct past, but it is now his, memories feeling more stable than they have in years. Some things are lost, others are fake, but the end result is more real than anything he's been able to grasp before.

For three days, anyone approaching Siebren's home for any reason may hear, even from outside the building, the sounds of someone having a Bad Time™, with pained screams or furniture being thrown against walls as his gravitational powers pulse and fluctuate. For three days, he struggles.

And then, there is silence.


Traveling through the galaxy [The Library; CW vertigo]
Siebren returns to work. Nothing is wrong. He is fine. Can't you see how fine he is?

Somewhere, a book falls off a table and he flinches. And then, to anyone within a certain distance of him, the floor seems to fall away, in a dizzying cloud of galactic light, just for a moment, before he regains control, glancing around to see if anyone noticed.


Into eternity [Stargazing Night]
A notice goes up on the bulletin board, and letters are issued to penpals with explicit invitations: Crane's Ridge, 9pm on a given night. Bring snacks, drinks, something to sit on. Siebren will have his telescope and star charts.

He's brought some cheese and crackers and apple butter himself, as well, and is floating beside his big brass telescope, dressed in a comfortable sweater. For the moment, he is completely at ease. For the moment, nothing could possibly bother him.

Right?


A One Note Symphony [Wildcard]
Find me on Discord to plot, PM me, or just throw a thing!

Comments

I see that Morrowind level-up message

[misbegottendreamer]

It's the second morning after the gala, and she's headed to his place with a basket of fresh-baked bread and some jam from the farm. She's just turning down the path to his house when she hears the shouting, and senses the low vibration of something crashing against the floor. She covers the rest of the distance in a hurry, knocking on the door with more urgency and force than she normally would.

"Siebren? My love, are you alright?"

:)

[spaghettification]

The response isn't verbal, or even audible. There's a pulsing sensation, like a wave (a particle?) washing over her, and then an intense disorienting vertigo paired with a blast of calliope music sounds in dissonance. Something is very wrong, and it hurts. And there's the vague tinge to it, of the powers that disrupted the gala, but also colored by everything that Siebren is. It is floating, it is spinning. It is zero gravity without a horizon to orient to, or any sense of direction at all.

[misbegottendreamer]

She thanks the gods that she is blind and only has so many senses to have disoriented.

With some fumbling, her hand finds the door handle, and she checks to see if the door will open.

traveling through the galaxy

[theydrewfirstblood]

Someone noticed—and he’s currently clinging to the back of a nearby chair that saved him from falling.

John’s been hoping to see Siebren since the gala, to thank him for the whole experience. Maybe even talk to him about…he’s not even sure how to explain it, to put into words the yearning he’s felt since that night. Being with Laios, it’s incredible, but this is more than touch or sex—there’s a certain type of damage they share, and Siebren…

He makes the sharp edges safer to touch.

So he’s at the library, looking for him. Discreetly—he’s there to look for some books on the local flora and fermentation to improve his dandelion wine, that’s his story and he’s sticking to it.

But a book drops somewhere, he flinches—and then he’s falling.

For a second, he can’t figure out which way is up. John grabs something, the chair, but he’s barely aware of it. Everything is spinning in a haze of dazzling light, beautiful and otherworldly but still disorienting…

When the world returns, John can’t move for a second, unsure if he can keep his balance.

[spaghettification]

Siebren notices John and hesitates, considering fleeing altogether. Guilty, of course. Both in the sense of being culpable and feeling like shit for what he's done.

"John?" His voice is small, so small and unsure that it seems ill-fitted to his broad-shouldered, clumsy frame as he floats still, neither trying to escape nor coming nearer to help.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John manages to shake his head to clear it when Siebren’s voice helps to banish the rest of the cobwebs. Looking up, he smiles, lets go of the chair to step forward—

“—ah.”

John looks down as his hand stings—and realizes that his grip on the chair splintered the wood, some of which has left tiny slivers buried in his palm.

Okay…not good for the whole ‘definitely still human’ thing.

When he looks back up at Siebren, his eyes holding an equal measure of guilt.

“…hey, Sieb.”

This is the sound of energy

[fuelmayor]

It's the third day after the gala. A week ago, a coffee mug with a glaze resembling the night sky and the sandwich that accompanied it vanished from Siebren's residence. The sandwich is long gone, but his eeriest neighbour from down the road has caught the culprit (the Lileep tucked under the Fuelweaver's arm, eyes narrowed like it would be scowling if it had a visible mouth) and is here to return the dishware from whence it came.

Or at least that was his intention. That sounds like screaming from inside the house. A more familiar sound than he would prefer, but this isn't the Village. He can believe that his intervention will help, not worsen the situation for both himself and the poor soul inside no matter what action he takes.

He raises his voice. "Doctor De Kuiper?"

[spaghettification]

There is no answer from inside, beyond the continued chaotic sounds of Siebren's struggle.

(It is a violent act to hatch from an egg. The shell must break to do so.)

[fuelmayor]

Is the door locked? Fuelweaver's going to try the handle first. (The Lileep mutters to itself.)

Traveling through the galaxy

[blindwatchersees]

He arrives as a shimmer.

He arrives as a whisper.

He arrives as a breath.

It would not have done to have troubled the good doctor during the time when his changes were at a fever pitch. Nee, he may have done so for some, but for Siebren, there is an importance in stepping away to let the man see the stars go flying by, even as his line is cut and he's sent spiraling into the void of space. Obstructing his view, even to offer him comfort from the horrors of the vast darkness, would have been a disservice to the curiosity that has defined so much of his life.

But now, now that the man that gravity forgot has had time to orient himself in the cosmos, even if only a little, it seems more appropriate to trouble him.

And so, Sheogorath takes form, from a shimmer, and a whisper, and a breath, as the thing Siebren seems to find him most agreeable as: butterflies.

[spaghettification]

A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.

Before Siebren sees the butterflies, there's a bubblegum taste in his mouth, sweet and not at all natural. But not unfamiliar, and certainly not welcome. He lifts his face to the ceiling and closes his eyes.

"I had wondered, what you might think."

[blindwatchersees]

I might think, yes.

Their wings cast shadows from the lamp-light.

I might think about these feelings. I wish I could offer you the places I had, where I could shut myself away, ranting and raving, knocking over tables, recoiling at the sound of my own voice. I wish I could offer you clean water and cool earth and soft moss and a place to bury all the pieces of yourself you aren't quite ready to understand yet. But I am just a portion of me, and I don't have those places with me to offer.

Travelling through the galaxy

[stonecoldtop]

George tries to contact Siebren once or twice after the gala, and when there's no response he starts to worry. That his own Clarity took quite a hit isn't helping either.

It feels like an intrusion to try to seek Siebren in his home, and even after eight years in the 21st century George still doesn't enjoy mobile phones (or any magical equivalents) so he instead he stops by the library once a day in the hopes they'll cross paths sooner rather than later.


It's a mixed blessing when the world seems to spin around him. On the one hand, he has to sit down rather abruptly and close his eyes before he starts seeing things in the lights that aren't there, on the other, he's fairly certain he saw Siebren just before everything went sideways. So that's something.

[spaghettification]

Siebren sees George plop down sitting, and there's a brief temptation to hide himself in shame. But he doesn't, instead dropping to kneel (on the floor, full weight) beside him as the vertigo fades.

"I'm sorry. Are you...alright?" Voice low, heavy with concern.

[stonecoldtop]

George doesn't open his eyes, but he turns his face towards Siebren's voice and smiles shallowly

"Two questions before I answer that: Was that light real, and has it stopped?"

traveling through the galaxy

[not_a_traitor]

There's really no good way to bring up to a friend, so, I talked to the mad scientist who kept you prisoner for gods know how long. Gaeta turned over possible approaches in his head for almost two full weeks before getting word that Siebren was out sick. Then, by the time he convinced himself this probably wasn't a run-of-the-mill cold and he really ought to check on Dr. de Kuiper in person, he was back at the library. Perfectly fine. Absolutely.

Until the floor opens up and almost swallows Gaeta.

Vertigo is terrible in combination with a missing leg. He gasps, grabs hold of the nearest table as tight as he can, tries to plant his cane somewhere firm, prays and prays he isn't going to fall when 'not falling' has been one of his primary goals ever since he was up and ambulatory post-amputation --

It's over as fast as it happened. Blinking, Gaeta very, very cautiously lets go of the table, looking around to see if anybody else got caught in the... whatever it was. He gaze meets Siebren's, and holds.

[spaghettification]

Siebren is visibly stricken with guilt, unable to hide that he did that. Not just that he also saw the light show and heard the calliope crash to the ground music, but that he was somehow at fault.

Words stick in his throat. He does not move. Pure deer in the headlights, here.

Into Eternity

[xiaoxiuya]

Shen Qingqiu is there early, a bag full of snacks and a large thermos thrown over one shoulder. He thought he might help set up, but when he gets there everything seems to already be arranged to Siebren's liking. Shen Qingqiu smiles up at him, for the moment simply pleased to have been invited. Pleased to share this moment.

If there is anything ominous or foreboding about this meeting, Shen Qingqiu hasn't picked up on it yet.

[spaghettification]

"Ah, look, one of the stars has come down to join us."

There is a wound that many nerds have, where you invite someone over to share your special interest and they don't have a single solitary fuck to give. Having someone show up to a night like this helps heal that wound. Siebren lights up with a bright, easy smile.

"The weather is nice for this."

symphony.

[abhorrently]

The Gala is over. Dahlia Leeds has chased them from her dwelling, and Mendel is dead, and Fever...

Her mask had been thrown away into the fire, but she's stumbling out, feeling dazed. She has to go and tell Degas the news, before the storm really hits in the morning. The ones she'd look for still live, and her father knows he can hide in her mind if he chooses. But - but. That's Dr. Kuiper, and he doesn't look right, even after the spell was broken.

So as she's done before this night, she draws near. No weapons. But a voice that asks listen, the voice of an ally. A friend.

"Doctor. Siebren. Can you hear me?"

[spaghettification]

His head turns toward Fever, but he isn't seeing her. Nor is there any indication that he's heard her words as more than mouth sounds, in his too-wide ice blue eyes. Smudges of something white stain his suit, and there's something red on his lips.

Not blood red, though. The shade is too impossibly bright. Like candy apples. Like licorice ropes. Like cough syrup.

Traveling through the galaxy

[paramnesiarules]

Helen noticed, and startled so badly that she knocked over her own chair with a clatter. She rights it quickly, looking around in embarrassment and considerable alarm. She's not -- technically she shouldn't even be here, she got all the maps she needed last week. She knows where everything on the island is now, or close enough for her purposes, so she should be fine. It's just...

The library is quiet -- normally quiet -- and there's nearly always a couple there, employees or other patrons. It'd seemed like a good place to pass the time while she was on break. She wasn't expecting to be afflicted with visions of the, the galactic void or whatever that was!

[spaghettification]

Siebren hears the chair fall. Another wave of dizziness emanates from him before he moves around the shelf to see who’s here, nervous who might be exposed to his current state. Seeing Helen, he struggles to stammer out an apology.

“I didn’t mean to—ahm. I…are you alright?”

traveling through the galaxy;

[medekh]

Artemy finds himself walking past the library one nippy October afternoon and decides to slip inside. Half on a whim, half knowing that some studying could do him some good on understanding more about this town and his current situation. He spreads himself over a plethora of sections. Artemy meticulously chooses a general history book before moving towards the sciences, hoping to find something of interest there as well... but this section certainly is a lot more robust than the last.

[spaghettification]

"Do you need help with finding anything?"

The voice is soft, polite. Accent, Dutch. The man speaking is in a thick sweater and tweed pants, and is barefoot. Which is particularly notable as he's floating perhaps half a foot off the floor.