Jay Merrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burntvideocassette) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2018-03-07 10:51 pm
burntvideocassette) wrote in entrancelogs2018-03-07 10:51 pm
Entry tags:
shadows creep and walls have eyes
Who: Jay and Tim
Where: Tim's Room
When: March 7th
Rating: PG-13; The usual CW for mental health discussion
Summary: Tim's got an unlimited supply of pills. Jay's learned something that keeps slipping out of his memory. They both nearly got eaten by a dinosaur. There's a lot to talk about.
The Story:
This is bad. He knows it's bad, Sans confirmed it's bad, and now he's got to tell Tim and hope he doesn't just wind up pissing him off. He wound back the tape--no, he just looked at his notes. Just looked at the study guide. Sans was a scientist. There was an experiment. It went wrong, and now Sans is the only one left, and the others have been written out of history, and even though Sans can remember it, Jay--
Jay what?
Right. He forgets.
There was a doctor. Sans said his name, right? (He didn't. He doesn't think he did. It feels familiar, asking, and checking, and asking, and checking again, until he writes it down. He thinks Sans didn't say it.) There was a doctor, but he's not the important part here. The important part is letting Tim know there's something he shouldn't know.
Great. Now he just has to keep it all straight when he can't--
No, he's got the footage. If there's something missing, he's got the--no, wait. It's written on his arm below the wrist brace, in a cramped, faded scrawl.
File 0209y2_6.mp4 1:05:15-1:20:32 transcribed in notebook 12/0209y2_6.txt. Check FIRST.
Right. He wrote it down to save time. Maybe he should have brought the notebook himself, but maybe that would make things harder. If Tim does get curious, he shouldn't have the information right there.
He scans down his arm, reading his other notes.
Content of memory not dangerous. (Probably.)
Knowing = dangerous.
From world w/ monsters and souls.
Alright. He's got this. He can do this.
With one hand in a brace and the other holding the camera, he doesn't knock on Tim's door. Instead, he lightly kicks it. Should sound about the same.
Where: Tim's Room
When: March 7th
Rating: PG-13; The usual CW for mental health discussion
Summary: Tim's got an unlimited supply of pills. Jay's learned something that keeps slipping out of his memory. They both nearly got eaten by a dinosaur. There's a lot to talk about.
The Story:
This is bad. He knows it's bad, Sans confirmed it's bad, and now he's got to tell Tim and hope he doesn't just wind up pissing him off. He wound back the tape--no, he just looked at his notes. Just looked at the study guide. Sans was a scientist. There was an experiment. It went wrong, and now Sans is the only one left, and the others have been written out of history, and even though Sans can remember it, Jay--
Jay what?
Right. He forgets.
There was a doctor. Sans said his name, right? (He didn't. He doesn't think he did. It feels familiar, asking, and checking, and asking, and checking again, until he writes it down. He thinks Sans didn't say it.) There was a doctor, but he's not the important part here. The important part is letting Tim know there's something he shouldn't know.
Great. Now he just has to keep it all straight when he can't--
No, he's got the footage. If there's something missing, he's got the--no, wait. It's written on his arm below the wrist brace, in a cramped, faded scrawl.
File 0209y2_6.mp4 1:05:15-1:20:32 transcribed in notebook 12/0209y2_6.txt. Check FIRST.
Right. He wrote it down to save time. Maybe he should have brought the notebook himself, but maybe that would make things harder. If Tim does get curious, he shouldn't have the information right there.
He scans down his arm, reading his other notes.
Content of memory not dangerous. (Probably.)
Knowing = dangerous.
From world w/ monsters and souls.
Alright. He's got this. He can do this.
With one hand in a brace and the other holding the camera, he doesn't knock on Tim's door. Instead, he lightly kicks it. Should sound about the same.
no subject
Yeah, real great. Starting off with a denial that he's in denial. Tim'll love that one.
He's not, though. He knows he's...he knows he's got stuff going on. He's had at least one seizure. That thing got to him. He'll take that. He'll accept that. It's on tape, and as much as the edit matters, there's not much he can do to fix that.
The bottle's in the medicine cabinet. It's been there since the day he got it.
"I'm just not exactly keen on the idea of--"
Of taking something that might change him. Of taking something that might cause him to forget. Of taking something that might make him too numb to notice when things are wrong. Didn't he see this movie?
"--of just taking somebody else's prescription without... at least some kind of medical oversight."
no subject
They don't have any friends who're doctors. And even if they did, would they want to put any of this on their shoulders, knowing the risk it brings with it?
"It helped you last time. Far as I could tell, it was the only reason you were able to stand around and talk to me after Alex's place, in the - after the basement."
no subject
Jay wants to shrug it off, roll his eyes, spit something back like we can’t know that for sure or you’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you.
But he’s seen the footage.
He’s forgotten a lot—understatement of the century—but he thinks he’s starting to remember what it felt like, before he found that tape. Before that last trip to Rosswood. He remembers what it was like to watch himself, dull-eyed and muttering nonsense. He remembers watching himself scream.
He didn’t make that appointment just because Tim forced him to, did he?
Pausing to collect his thoughts, Jay watches Tim out of the corner of his eye.
“How can you tell?” The snide sarcasm has faded, replaced by a quiet wariness. “When you start taking something, how do you figure out if it’s...like, working?” A muscle in his jaw twitches. “And not making things worse?”
no subject
And it interacts differently, naturally, with everyone. It seemed to help the last time, but what about now? Has too much changed? Sometimes your prescription needs to be altered, and just because this particular cocktail holds true for Tim doesn't mean it'll be useful for someone else.
God. What a mess.
no subject
"If it's that slow, how d'you even--?" He catches himself, rolling his eyes as he continues. "I mean, you just said you can feel it, so I guess that's a moot point."
He tries to school the anxiety buzzing his head into something manageable, something he can put to words.
"If it's...not, like, if you shouldn't be taking it because of...side effects or whatever, how long before you figure that out? And I mean...do you always notice?" Dumb question, maybe, but maybe not. "'Cause it's, y'know, messing with your brain and all."
no subject
Leveling you out. Helping you operate the way you should, as if your brain isn't screwed up all to hell.
"You'll get stuff like...mood swings are pretty common. Maybe it'll be harder to sleep than usual, but - I dunno, I don't think that's ever been much of a problem with us," he says, dry. When would it ever, when they already barely sleep as it is?
no subject
Jay Merrick isn't much of anybody, but for once he thinks he'd like to be himself.
That option's been off the table for a while now.
"That...does that stuff level off after a while, or is it more like a--" He reaches up to scratch at the back of his head with his injured hand, but he aborts the motion partway through. "--'stop taking this immediately 'cause it's breaking your head' kind of thing?"
no subject
"If it's not helping, it'll be based on...I dunno, how you feel in the long-term. Whether your symptoms start getting worse, or not, or if the side effects just aren't worth it."
Welcome to the wonderful world of psychopharmacology, Jay, where you never know when something will actually work until maybe months down the line, and every decision is fueled off guesswork.
no subject
Jay'd be lying if he said it didn't help.
And yet, the second Jay starts doing what Tim wants, Tim cools off. He evens out. Carrot and stick, and wait, he can't remember why he even came here, why did he--?
Jay glances at his arm. He slows down, takes a second to read it. Reread it, right, because he read it before.
God, he's sick of this.
Maybe that's why he's really here.
"If I..." He grits his teeth, ignoring the way pain spikes across his jaw and up to his temple, Advil be damned. He tamps down the urge to switch off the camera. "If I gave it a try...like, say, over the next couple weeks, could you..."
Louder, Jay. The mic won't pick you up.
"...Keep an eye on me, I guess?"
no subject
He's about as reliable for keeping an eye on people as Brian, which is to say, not at all, but what's the option? Setting up a camera to keep a lens trained on Jay at all times? Actually, scratch that; knowing Jay, he's probably gonna end up doing that anyway.
But don't think he didn't catch that particular phraseology.
"Still an if, huh?"
cw for self-harm
Even with his brain already fried. Even with the resident expert keeping an eye on him.
Even with the guy who dragged him back to consciousness after two months of flinching at the lights and mumbling riddles and wandering off and screaming into his pillow at 4 a.m. and clawing deep gouges into his arms and hiding his face in his hands and...
...and...
The guy he basically just called useless. The guy who basically just called him stupid.
They're a real pair, aren't they?
Jay looks up from the viewfinder. "I'll do the first one tonight."
no subject
This entire thing has been a disaster, start to finish. His expression eases, for a fraction of a second, into something almost worried.
Almost.
"You sure?"
He did more or less force him into it, huh? Fed him pills while he was too out of it to consent to it, hoping that they would allow for some kind of change, some kind of shift for the better - some tiny, measurable improvement in the rotten little shell of their lives.
He got lucky. Lucky that it didn't end up making him worse.
If he's going through with it this time, it should be by his choice. On his terms.
no subject
But Jay's nothing if not contrary.
He shrugs, and it's just as crooked and off-kilter as he feels. "Worth a shot, right?"
Tim stayed standing, while he didn't. Tim stayed conscious, while he didn't. Tim stayed alive, while he didn't.
It's worth a shot.
"And if it..." (induces a seizure, brainwashes him, cuts out and rearranges the last scraps of Jay Merrick into someone else) "...doesn't work, I can just...stop."
He's aiming for nonchalant, but he can tell he didn't hit it.
no subject
Then what set him off? What made him that raging, snarling, paranoid thing that pinned Tim against a wall, spidery hands linking around his throat as he threw every scrap of his measly, stick-leg weight up against Tim's greater bulk? The knife, the zip-ties - he saw the footage, he saw what twisted Jay from apologetic to violent. But before then?
Withdrawal? After-effects, not entirely erased?
Something else entirely?
no subject
If he's doing this (and he is, apparently, because he said he is), he's going to do it right.
And if he's not doing it right (since doing it right probably involves a doctor and a prescription and a pharmacy instead of a slip of paper and a box of orange bottles granted in exchange for a few memories), at least he's going to try to err on the side of caution.
All cameras rolling. Tim around to help if something happens. Phone charged at all times.
He's not sure when he started considering Tim Wright to be a valid safety precaution, if he's honest. Probably somewhere between Hoover and Birmingham, and then again somewhere between two floors in Tartarus.
If there's one thing about Tim he can trust, it's that Tim'll tell him if he's going crazy.
(Ha. There's that "if" again.)
no subject
He crosses his arms across his chest, shoulders jerking up in a brief jolt of a shrug.
"I guess, just...let me know if you want - if you need anything else, then." Like what? Advice? Free tips on how to dry-swallow your meds when you're coughing up a lung in the middle of an abandoned hospital?
Yeah. That's sure to help.
no subject
Jay shuffles back toward the door, posture stooped and arms held tight to his sides. "And, uh. You, too. Let me know."
He hasn't forgotten what Tim said earlier, about his house and about Alex and about the way he thinks things should have gone. Tim sounds like he's cooled down a bit (ha), but it's not like Jay can tell what's going on inside his head. So, if he needs anything else, he can let Jay know.
no subject
There's no escaping what he's said now that he's said it, huh? It's out there. And as obtuse as Jay can be, there's no way he can misinterpret what Tim's laid out now.
Fantastic.
"See you."
no subject
See you is good. With all the ways the next few days could go wrong, see you is at least something he can plan for. Tim's an asshole, sure, but at least he's an asshole who'll be around.
Check the cameras. Mark the drives. Forget. Take the first pill.
Like ripping off a band-aid.
no subject
His mirror hasn't been fully shattered, but it's spiderwebbed with cracks, all leading from one central impact point.