Wirt (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singloversing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-04-01 10:39 pm
singloversing) wrote in entrancelogs2016-04-01 10:39 pm
Please could you stop the noise? I'm trying to get some rest. | OPEN
Who: Wirt [singloversing] and YOU
Where: Various places
When: 4/1-4/4 - The duration of the event + Aftermath
Rating: PG-13
Summary: High-intensity emotions set off Wirt's anxiety in a major way...until he realizes he can shut them off at will. He then decides that this is a great plan and leaves them off almost all event, and crashes hard when the event ends. TW for panic attacks and other heavy anxiety issues.
The Story:
A. 4/1 - Wirt's Room, then kitchen
[Wirt's a mess.
He's been a mess all morning, for reasons he can't quite identify. Everything is just so...much, all the time, and he's exhausted. A pen he was using ran out of ink and he cried about it for a full five minutes, and before that he had written a line he thought was so good that he sat and laughed about it for an embarrassingly long time. His emotions are swinging back and forth like a pendulum, and every little thing he feels comes on so strongly, for no reason at all. For some things, this is a minor inconvenience. For other things, it is absolutely paralyzing. Simple decisions make his hands shake.
After an unpleasant morning, Wirt heads down to the kitchen. He should probably get something to eat, but by the time he gets there he feels sort of lightheaded. He's hungry, but he doesn't know what he wants to eat, and his thoughts and emotions have been betraying him every step of the way. If he was really hungry, he'd know what he wants already, right? He's just doing it because he doesn't know what else to do, and what if there's someone else there? He'd probably just be bothering them, and knowing his luck he'd probably pick something that they wanted to eat and then he'd be a jerk for taking the last of it, but he knows that's stupid because the kitchen is magic and there's no last of anything, but that just spirals into "Why are you so dumb, Wirt? Why can't you just make a decision?"
He stands with the fridge door open, but he can't focus. He can't think over the storm of nervousness clouding his head. He's letting all the cool air out. Someone's going to come into the kitchen and he's going to be in their way or worse - they're going to see him taking way too long to decide what to eat like some kind of weirdo and they're going to laugh and laugh and laugh--
The door shuts, though Wirt doesn't feel like he moved at all. Everything feels far away and to close and he sinks to the floor, curling himself up and breathing hard. He feels like his heart is pounding (Is it though? Should he still be concerned about that slow heart rate Victor felt? What if--). He covers his face in his hands and breathes and breathes and tries to wait it out and tries his hardest to think. How did this even happen? How did-- he's felt like this before, but not over something so stupid. He breathes and waits and waits and waits for it to pass but it's not passing he's drowning oh my gosh what if it never passes?]
O-Oh my god, just. Stop it. Stop it, Wirt.
[And then, amazingly...it stops.
He's not shaking and he's stopped hyperventilating so suddenly that he has to sit up straighter and look down at his hands. All of his nerves and irrational worries are gone. His body's not screaming at him anymore, and he feels...
...Well, he doesn't feel anything, actually. There should probably be major relief, right? He's pretty sure that's what he's supposed to be feeling now, but there's a vast emptiness inside him. All he can muster up is a "huh", as if his new found lack of emotion is an interesting fact he found in a book that he'll immediately forget. He's disconnected from everything he was just two minutes ago, and...honestly, it doesn't feel bad.
He gets up and fixes himself a sandwich (any sandwich, whatever's closest to his hand when he opens the door) without dwelling on it any further.]
B. 4/2 - 4/3 - Various places (His room, the music room, the library, etc. Wherever)
[Eventually it occurs to Wirt that this is probably what the event is. He's gained some kind of...superpower to turn his feelings on and off, or something. Huh.
With that in mind, and without the proper emotions to actually miss having emotions, Wirt decides that leaving them off is probably for the best. Having them wasn't really that great, and it's nice to be able to go through life without being nervous and worried all the time. The familiar undercurrent of anxiousness is absent from his thoughts, and that's probably a good thing, right?
He wonders if this is what being a well-adjusted adult feels like. Does everyone feel like this once they grow out of their teen angst? ...Maybe? Or maybe not. Who knows.
It isn't perfect though. Some things are a lot more difficult without any emotions. He tried writing more poetry, but everything he puts down is so bland. Unsurprisingly, it's hard to write anything when you don't feel anything about anything.
There's an itch in his mind though though, one he's been largely ignoring. It's an invasive thought that whispers occasionally that Wirt should turn his emotions back on. Doesn't feeling things feel good? Don't you want that? Just for a few minutes. Just long enough for one poem. Just long enough to play one song with feeling in the music room.
It makes logical sense that it would make it easier to do the things he enjoys if he can actually enjoy them, so he does. He flips his emotions back on in short spurts, to create things. It's something he wants to do, and something that doesn't usually cause him distress, so it's just enough emotion for him before he turns everything back off and lays in that weirdly pleasant emptiness. While they're on he's a little...hesitant. People probably shouldn't be able to just turn their emotions off, right? But then those worries threaten to become something bigger and he shuts them off before he can question himself more.
He's pretty sure he could live like this forever, if he wanted to.]
C. 4/4 - The Library
[Events don't last forever though.
Not that Wirt's sincerely sure he wanted it to? It just made things so easy that it was hard to fight it at the time. It was a numbness that he could control, that wouldn't hinder his creativity.
But when he wakes up on Monday, his feelings are on and they won't turn off. There isn't anything particularly upsetting him, but he can feel that familiar current of nerves. It's not the raging ocean it was on Friday, but he's been without it for three days so it feels uncomfortable. Wirt's uneasy. Mostly he feels stupid though, because he should have known that wouldn't last, but he didn't care at the time.How could he not care though? If you don't have emotions how can you appreciate anything? How can you relate to other people?
And he just tried to throw that all away. What was he thinking?
He spends a lot of time in his room that day, curled up in bed and coming to terms with his old emotions and the fact that he was stupid enough to fall for an event like that. Even knowing that though, he misses being able to shut off those feelings, now that he's rolling in bad ones.
But...what's easiest isn't always what's right, unfortunately.
Eventually, he makes himself get up and get out of his room. He doesn't venture far though, just to the library. He finds his favorite chair, the one big enough for him to pull his feet up and curl his entire body into it. Wirt still isn't sure he's ready to commit himself to actually approaching anyone and talking about the past weekend though, so his version of "getting out of his room" is burying himself in a book.
Today it's James Joyce's short story collection, Dubliners, but instead of starting at the beginning he skips to a story toward the end of the book.]
singloversing] and YOUWhere: Various places
When: 4/1-4/4 - The duration of the event + Aftermath
Rating: PG-13
Summary: High-intensity emotions set off Wirt's anxiety in a major way...until he realizes he can shut them off at will. He then decides that this is a great plan and leaves them off almost all event, and crashes hard when the event ends. TW for panic attacks and other heavy anxiety issues.
The Story:
A. 4/1 - Wirt's Room, then kitchen
[Wirt's a mess.
He's been a mess all morning, for reasons he can't quite identify. Everything is just so...much, all the time, and he's exhausted. A pen he was using ran out of ink and he cried about it for a full five minutes, and before that he had written a line he thought was so good that he sat and laughed about it for an embarrassingly long time. His emotions are swinging back and forth like a pendulum, and every little thing he feels comes on so strongly, for no reason at all. For some things, this is a minor inconvenience. For other things, it is absolutely paralyzing. Simple decisions make his hands shake.
After an unpleasant morning, Wirt heads down to the kitchen. He should probably get something to eat, but by the time he gets there he feels sort of lightheaded. He's hungry, but he doesn't know what he wants to eat, and his thoughts and emotions have been betraying him every step of the way. If he was really hungry, he'd know what he wants already, right? He's just doing it because he doesn't know what else to do, and what if there's someone else there? He'd probably just be bothering them, and knowing his luck he'd probably pick something that they wanted to eat and then he'd be a jerk for taking the last of it, but he knows that's stupid because the kitchen is magic and there's no last of anything, but that just spirals into "Why are you so dumb, Wirt? Why can't you just make a decision?"
He stands with the fridge door open, but he can't focus. He can't think over the storm of nervousness clouding his head. He's letting all the cool air out. Someone's going to come into the kitchen and he's going to be in their way or worse - they're going to see him taking way too long to decide what to eat like some kind of weirdo and they're going to laugh and laugh and laugh--
The door shuts, though Wirt doesn't feel like he moved at all. Everything feels far away and to close and he sinks to the floor, curling himself up and breathing hard. He feels like his heart is pounding (Is it though? Should he still be concerned about that slow heart rate Victor felt? What if--). He covers his face in his hands and breathes and breathes and tries to wait it out and tries his hardest to think. How did this even happen? How did-- he's felt like this before, but not over something so stupid. He breathes and waits and waits and waits for it to pass but it's not passing he's drowning oh my gosh what if it never passes?]
O-Oh my god, just. Stop it. Stop it, Wirt.
[And then, amazingly...it stops.
He's not shaking and he's stopped hyperventilating so suddenly that he has to sit up straighter and look down at his hands. All of his nerves and irrational worries are gone. His body's not screaming at him anymore, and he feels...
...Well, he doesn't feel anything, actually. There should probably be major relief, right? He's pretty sure that's what he's supposed to be feeling now, but there's a vast emptiness inside him. All he can muster up is a "huh", as if his new found lack of emotion is an interesting fact he found in a book that he'll immediately forget. He's disconnected from everything he was just two minutes ago, and...honestly, it doesn't feel bad.
He gets up and fixes himself a sandwich (any sandwich, whatever's closest to his hand when he opens the door) without dwelling on it any further.]
B. 4/2 - 4/3 - Various places (His room, the music room, the library, etc. Wherever)
[Eventually it occurs to Wirt that this is probably what the event is. He's gained some kind of...superpower to turn his feelings on and off, or something. Huh.
With that in mind, and without the proper emotions to actually miss having emotions, Wirt decides that leaving them off is probably for the best. Having them wasn't really that great, and it's nice to be able to go through life without being nervous and worried all the time. The familiar undercurrent of anxiousness is absent from his thoughts, and that's probably a good thing, right?
He wonders if this is what being a well-adjusted adult feels like. Does everyone feel like this once they grow out of their teen angst? ...Maybe? Or maybe not. Who knows.
It isn't perfect though. Some things are a lot more difficult without any emotions. He tried writing more poetry, but everything he puts down is so bland. Unsurprisingly, it's hard to write anything when you don't feel anything about anything.
There's an itch in his mind though though, one he's been largely ignoring. It's an invasive thought that whispers occasionally that Wirt should turn his emotions back on. Doesn't feeling things feel good? Don't you want that? Just for a few minutes. Just long enough for one poem. Just long enough to play one song with feeling in the music room.
It makes logical sense that it would make it easier to do the things he enjoys if he can actually enjoy them, so he does. He flips his emotions back on in short spurts, to create things. It's something he wants to do, and something that doesn't usually cause him distress, so it's just enough emotion for him before he turns everything back off and lays in that weirdly pleasant emptiness. While they're on he's a little...hesitant. People probably shouldn't be able to just turn their emotions off, right? But then those worries threaten to become something bigger and he shuts them off before he can question himself more.
He's pretty sure he could live like this forever, if he wanted to.]
C. 4/4 - The Library
[Events don't last forever though.
Not that Wirt's sincerely sure he wanted it to? It just made things so easy that it was hard to fight it at the time. It was a numbness that he could control, that wouldn't hinder his creativity.
But when he wakes up on Monday, his feelings are on and they won't turn off. There isn't anything particularly upsetting him, but he can feel that familiar current of nerves. It's not the raging ocean it was on Friday, but he's been without it for three days so it feels uncomfortable. Wirt's uneasy. Mostly he feels stupid though, because he should have known that wouldn't last, but he didn't care at the time.How could he not care though? If you don't have emotions how can you appreciate anything? How can you relate to other people?
And he just tried to throw that all away. What was he thinking?
He spends a lot of time in his room that day, curled up in bed and coming to terms with his old emotions and the fact that he was stupid enough to fall for an event like that. Even knowing that though, he misses being able to shut off those feelings, now that he's rolling in bad ones.
But...what's easiest isn't always what's right, unfortunately.
Eventually, he makes himself get up and get out of his room. He doesn't venture far though, just to the library. He finds his favorite chair, the one big enough for him to pull his feet up and curl his entire body into it. Wirt still isn't sure he's ready to commit himself to actually approaching anyone and talking about the past weekend though, so his version of "getting out of his room" is burying himself in a book.
Today it's James Joyce's short story collection, Dubliners, but instead of starting at the beginning he skips to a story toward the end of the book.]
4/1
She creeps down to the kitchen and doesn't even notice Wirt when she makes a beeline for the fridge and throws it open, pulling out as many random food items she can in one go.
When she's got enough stuff in her hands that things are falling from the pile, she shuts it with a sigh. That's when she sees Wirt with his sandwich.
She jumps, eyes wide and darting, like she's been caught doing something shameful.]
Uh...
Hey... Wirt.
[Smooth. He'll never notice she's a mess.]
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It's nice to be able to turn that kind of vigilance off, to lower the volume until it's nothing more than the tiniest whisper.
He hears someone shut the fridge and finally looks over and sees Amethyst and...continues to feel nothing, honestly.]
Oh. Hey, Amethyst.
[Something doesn't seem right though - not the amount of food, that's not that weird for her - something else. It takes him a second to figure it out, because he has no connection to that sort of emotion anymore. Five minutes ago it would have been painfully relatable, but now he struggles to identify with her. Did he really used to have that look all the time?]
Are...you okay?
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Uh, heh, yeah, I always eat this much.
[Except when her emotions are turned off and she no longer feels the need to eat, to emulate humanity, but she's being deliberately obtuse here. She looks closer at the amount of various foods she's accumulated and decides this all needs to be in a stew or something. An everything stew. So she grabs a frankly huge pot, tosses it all in, and turns the stove on. Yes, a strawberry chicharrón dark chocolate pepperjack clamato et cetera stew. Hey, it could be good.
She doesn't notice anything's off about Wirt, too caught up in her own nonsense to realize. She distracts herself by stirring furiously, getting strawberry-flavored broth everywhere until she breaks the wooden spoon she's using.]
Oh. Whoops.
[She tosses the pieces of the spoon aside. This is totally normal for her, by the way. Good old Amethyst. Freaking out on kitchen utensils. That's our gem.]
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No, I know.
[Should he be more sensitive about that? It doesn't occur to him until after he's said it, but they've had absolutely horrifying conversations on the things Amethyst eats. Either way, he literally can't feel bad right now.]
I meant you seem...I dunno. Uncharacteristically nervous? Or something?
[He was going to get up and come closer but, uh. Wow, that's a mess. Maybe he'll stay here.]
Uh. ...What are you making anyway?
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4/1
Her emotions had flooded her when the event started, and though a part of her wanted to turn them off, a larger part of her decided that this was probably better. Isn't this how people are supposed to be? Actually caring?
Like Wirt cares. Wirt, who she betrayed and has she ever really made it clear how sorry she is about that?]
Wirt, I've been an awful friend.
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He doesn't hug back or anything, but he doesn't shove her off of him either. He just lets her cling to him and lets whatever this is happen. He's caught up trying to think about it more logically, puzzle out what the heck is going on since his emotions aren't on to connect to her with.]
Um. Not...recently, you haven't been? Did something happen?
[Seriously, why. Why is any of this happening right now? He's not annoyed or upset about it, he just...currently lacks the ability to care.]
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It's okay. I'm kind of used to you being mean? And like, all that other stuff was forever ago so...
[He shrugs. Eh.]
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4/3 - Library
So when Wirt enters the library, it looks a little different. Mostly because it is absolutely trashed. Papers fan out across the floor. Books lay all across the room, clearly thrown and with pages, entire chapters torn out and hanging from the binding. A few shelves lean together after an attempt to topple them all, and Sirius is just about to overturn a fifth (sixth?) table when he spots Wirt and growls out:]
What?!
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Uhh...
[Apparently he says it out loud instead of just thinking it really loudly, because Sirius snaps at him. Normally that would make him flinch and backpedal and apologize profusely to try and keep Sirius from getting angrier, but now? Those impulses are so far away and he just...stares.]
It kind of looks like a tornado hit? Or like, a war zone or something.
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I did it. Because destroying things is all I'm fucking good for anyway!
[He kicks a pile of books and they scatter satisfyingly.]
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I'm pretty sure that's like...statistically impossible? Nobody's literally only good for one thing. That's dumb.
[He's both emotionless and tactless, apparently.]
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4th
It doesn't matter. He needs something to do to occupy himself, and going to the library fulfills that need.
Both Evelyn and Wirt are regular visitors just as he is. It's not unusual to see them there going about their business, and he often takes time to offer a "hello" if nothing else, which is what he does now. Spotting Wirt in his usual haunt, Victor changes course to greet him.]
Good day.
[Is it really? Standard greetings feel like they fall a bit flat after the few days he's had.]
How are you faring?
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He flinches at first, only because he didn't see who was greeting him at first and he's not sure who he wants to see right now. But...Victor's a calm and collected person by nature. Somehow, Wirt feels like he won't judge him for wanting to be the same for a few days, no matter how much Wirt has been judging himself for it. He eases.]
Hi, Victor.
[He hasn't talked to many people since the event ended, and somehow it's a lot more difficult than he remembers.]
I-- I feel...well. Actually, that sort of sums it up, I guess.
[He feels. His emotions are back.]
...What about you?
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You're not the only one readjusting after... that. I confess, I feel the same way.
[He breathes in through his nose. One thing he'd noticed while under the event's influence is that he hadn't once needed to take in a steadying breath. He misses that surety. That impregnable sense of self.]
Are you looking to be alone?
[Otherwise he'd ask to take a seat, but he won't linger should Wirt prefer his solitude.]
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After a moment, he shakes his head.]
No, I-- you can stay. I don't mind. [He punctuates that with an awkward breath of a laugh.] If I really wanted to be totally alone I wouldn't have ventured out into the world.
[He's been alone in his room, and he's a little sick of it. At the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted to commit to seeking out someone either. Being out in a small corner of a public space was exactly the amount of social interaction Wirt felt he could handle. Having the company of someone like Victor would not be overwhelming, or at least Wirt doesn't think so.]
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4/2
When Steve finds the flood of feelings to be too much, he does give in and turn them off, if only so that he can regather his composure. The utter lack of anything is disconcerting in its own way, but when he's not directly reminded of that fact, it's actually not so bad. The guilt, the regret, the utter sadness that seems to go down into his marrow, it's all gone.
But he has no real ambition. For a while he does the practical thing and trains, exercises both by running around the grounds and going through exercises in the training room. Even that gets boring after a while, though, which is how he wanders into the library.
He picks a few books completely at random. They're stacked in his arms as he moves to take a seat at one of the tables, where he sees Wirt has already settled in. Steve doesn't feel much of an urge to talk to him, so he's silent as he opens up the first book in his pile.
It's a novel, something that probably has a gripping and heart-wrenching storyline, and yet he finds that nothing in it grips him as he reads. ]
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He had been resisting for a little while, but reading had gotten boring, and poetry-writing was nearly impossible without them on. So, the urge to turn his feelings back on had been scratching at his brain, and for lack of anything better to do he caved.
Everything is overwhelming again, but at first it's in a good way - a way he can put to paper immediately. Emotion rolls through him like waves crashing and breaking and carrying him along and oh he missed symbolism and simile and metaphor. He's huddled over a notebook, scribbling furiously.
Truthfully, he doesn't seem to notice that anyone else has sat down at the same table. He's too absorbed in what he's doing, too obsessed for the moment to care about anything else. Eventually, he reads back some of his work though, and...and the sentiment behind them strikes him all over again like an arrow to the heart. Wirt rubs at his eyes, feeling them start to water, but he can't hold the flood gates shut.
Oblivious to the fact that anyone else is there to hear him, Wirt puts his head down on the table, buries his face in his arms and sobs.]
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He's about to give up on it when the sound of Wirt's sobbing sends Steve's head snapping up. Normally seeing a kid like Wirt crying that hard would have stirred something in Steve: pity, concern, even anxiety.
Instead, he stares. ]
What are you doing?
[ Crying, obviously, but the real question is why? Wirt had been fine just a second ago, hadn't he? ]
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post-hiatus tag, totally okay if you drop!
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4/2
Today's stunt seems to be using her grappling hook to get her to the ceiling of the library and slowly lowering herself down like a perky spider.
bit... by bit... by bit... until she's directly in front of where Wirt is sitting basking in his emptiness.]
HI WIRT.
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That...isn't quite what happens. He has his nose in a book, and while it's true that he doesn't react until she's directly in front of him, he barely jumps at all. Saying he's mildly surprised is a large overestimation.
He's not annoyed either though. He just lowers his book a little and accepts that this is happening.]
Oh. Hey Mabel.
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but for him to not react at all isn't proof that he's cured. still dangling from the ceiling, she flails a hand out to touch his head.] Are you sick? You seem a little... uh...
[she bites her lip] ...Less Wirt-y than usual?
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4/3
The sound of someone actually making use of the music room is enough to get his attention, and he decides to stop in instead of just walking on by like he might on any other day-- whoever was using it, it wouldn't normally be his business, but he's curious, and the music itself is stirring, somehow.]
Hey-- you're pretty good. Like really, that's-- that was beautiful.
[So moving.]
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Unfortunately, it isn't very useful for anything creative. He tried playing clarinet earlier but it was just...flat. Not musically flat, but devoid of any kind of feeling. It sounded almost clinical and it was...pretty bad.
That was enough for Wirt to give in to the urge to flip the switch again, to turn his emotions back on for just a little while. Just long enough to feel the satisfaction of playing music. Usually he's more hesitant about playing jazz, for a whole myriad of reasons, but it feels right today so he just...goes for it.
He doesn't realize someone's been listening until the song is all done though, and he jumps when Kanji speaks. His eyes are wide and the shock is greatly exaggerated due to the event.]
R-- Really? You...you liked it?
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[He puts a hand over his heart without even realizing it, smiling broadly. However nervous Wirt might be, it's pretty clear that Kanji's got nothing but good things to say about what he heard.]
Don't recognize the song, but damn, you've got soul!
[YEAH, WIRT, YOU GO.]
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