it's feeling like the sun's hiding

[lifeskills]

Who: Victor Frankenstein (lifeskills) and Dustin Henderson (chocolatepudding).
Where: Chillin' in Quor'toth.
When: Dec. 4th.
Rating: PG-13 for demon-y things? We'll see.
Summary: It's a hell dimension, what could go wrong for a doctor with suicidal tendencies and a precocious, monster-hunting kid?

The Story:



<sub>[A hell dimension. Well, if Victor had to guess where he'd end up in a choice between Heaven and Hell, it makes sense he'd end up here.

The first day sees him on edge. Weapons don't work here--as becomes readily apparent the first time a creature swoops down from on high and forces someone to rip a branch from a tree to bludgeon it--leaving them essentially unprotected in an event environment where dangers abound. Not just any danger, either.

Demons. From a distance, they don't look like the sort of metaphysical entity who could tear a woman's soul apart from the inside out as had happened to Vanessa, but they're horrific all the same and the connotation doesn't help put him at ease with so many of them prowling around.

On the second day, he's edgier, fitfully stalking the perimeter of the settlement, too apprehensive to rest, but too reluctant to face what this dimension has to offer by wandering very far. This place has a pull to it, a weight--it's in the toxic air he's breathing, in his head like a second voice, like the witches' lair all over again, bringing him closer to a version of himself he doesn't want to be anymore. Resisting the pull is, if possible, more challenging than keeping himself fed and watered here.

By the third day, after a night of being unable to sleep, Victor can no longer block the voice out. It tells him this is right where he should be and where he'll no doubt be going one day, so why fight it? Quietly, tiredly, he takes a seat by a ravine that looks down into a sickly green river of acid, watching it the way a child would watch the hypnotic motions of a mobile over their crib.

Danger is still all around, but it's getting harder to remember why he ought to care.]</sub>

Comments

[chocolatepudding]

[ This is crazy. This is crazy and definitely not like Neverland or the weird labyrinth things. This is different, and Dustin wonders how well he'd actually fare with his memories being tampered with so he'd think he'd always be here.

Probably a lot, a lot, a lot better.

Right now, all he feels is inadequate. By the fourth day it's clawing at him: he's not Eleven, but he should be. He's not able to protect everyone--he was barely able to patch up the friendship between Lucas and Mike. Every time he tried to venture out of the village, he'd gotten in trouble.

He knows it's the place just messing with their minds. He knows it on a logical, rational level, but that doesn't stop him from feeling it. It claws at his skin, as much as he tries to ignore it. He's done a fairly good job of it, too. He talks with the other people in the camp and tries his best, even if it's not enough. It's never enough.

Dustin will never stop feeling like he's not doing enough to help, he thinks.

It's the tail end of the third day when he spots Viktor. The older man normally looks like shit--that's not new--but this is a little different. This is something practically oozing off of him, and he frowns as he approaches him. ]

You're like Isildur. Anyone tell you that?

[lifeskills]

<sub>[A young voice, one with a lisp. That's no demon creeping up behind him. Victor looks up from his reverie and turns, dismissing the urge to wrap his fingers around the hilt of the pistol in his jacket. He still carries it, even if it's all but useless.

At the very least, it makes an adequate bludgeon.]</sub>

What?

_{[Of course it's Dustin. He only knows one person in Wonderland with that lisp and skeletal condition. Not to mention, who else drops as many obscure references as Dustin. Who is Isildur?]}

[chocolatepudding]

There's this book series, the Lord of the Rings. A crazy powerful dark demon lord makes this magic ring that makes you the most feared person in the world so he takes it over, so all the other races of the land band together and go to kick his ass.

[ He's wincing at his own over-simplification. This is the same person who got into a slap fight over The Hobbit. ]

There's this guy in the war, Isildur, and he cuts off the hand. Things are going great except he can't bring himself to destroy it. He's drawn in by the crazy level of power the ring has, and it hypnotizes him. He starts thinking all these insane thoughts, too.

Right now, that's you. Not quite Gollum but definitely consumed by something. I've got a feeling it's not how gross the river looks.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[He squints his eyes. Again, what? Dustin's chattering is a force to contend with; already Victor feels like a sprinter tripping up at the starting line before the race has even begun.

Dustin should be proud. It usually takes something extreme to sufficiently distract Victor from thinking too hard about one thing or another--thinking too hard is arguably the worst of his flaws--but all it takes to stop him contemplating the meaningless passage of time is to confuse him with a book synopsis.]</sub>

... You're comparing me to a mad soldier with a magic ring?

_{[A madman seduced by power is actually more accurate than he cares to admit to an eleven-year-old boy, or himself.]}

You'll be happy to know I don't think I've been hypnotized by any demon lords today. What are you doing out here?

_{[Victor had wandered a little ways from camp in search of some peace and quiet, which is ironic considering this place has quiet in abundance, if not peace. There's not much to do in a hell dimension except sit and slowly waste away.]}

[chocolatepudding]

You're lucky I didn't compare you to the naked hobbit that eats raw fish and gave Will Byers nightmares for a week.

[ So there. He picks up a nearby rock, feeling the crevices with his thumb as he talks. ]

Same as you, Wonderland sucks sometimes. Y'know--I mean this as a friend--you ever think about just... not thinking too hard?

[lifeskills]

You're lucky I'm not offended by inaccurate analogies.

<sub>[Ugh, but he actually doesn't want to lower himself to the level of petty primary school retorts just to make his point. There's something about this stifling place that makes them leap off his tongue more easily.

Victor sucks in a breath, mentally gives himself a little shake, and tries again. The boy doesn't need to know he's in a bit of a mood--or suffer for it--even if he's already caught Victor in the act of entertaining the demons that live in his head.]</sub>

It's not important. I was just-- _[Thinking.] --considering the amount of food and water we have available, nothing you need concern yourself with. As long as you stay close to the settlement. You have been, haven't you?

_{[He almost manages to sound matronly the way he says it. A grade A deflection if there ever was one.]}

[chocolatepudding]

You're lucky I don't care.

[ It's said as a joke, or an attempt at one, and would have ended it with sticking his tongue out if something hadn't happened. It's this place--that's what the rational part of him knows. this place is messing with him. It's messing with Viktor, too. The problem is that Dustin's spend so long bottling everything up, it's going to get volatile. ]

Yeah, I ate my vegetables and said my prayers, too. [ This is purposefully rude, complete with a trademark teenage (soon-to-be-teenage) eye roll. ]

You can stop pretending to care. I just came over to see if you needed someone to save you from whatever crazy you've got goin' on up in there.

[lifeskills]

<sub>[Dustin's sassed him, and Dustin's let loose with profanities in front of him, but as Victor watches, a new side to the boy swims into sudden view like healthy tissue being pulled back to expose a cancerous tumor underneath.

There's a belligerent edge in that retort that reminds him, bizarrely, of Lily and all the times she'd resisted his wishes with a roll of her eyes like he was the one new to the world and she was the veteran (and in the end, he supposed she had been). Victor releases a breath and opts to stand up from his spot on the crag, patting sand from his pants.]</sub>

You were the one who insisted we were friends. I believe that is what friends do--inquire about each other?

_[No?]

[chocolatepudding]

[ That's the problem, Dustin thinks. Dustin said they were friends, and Viktor just went along with it.

In his normal state of mind, he wouldn't care. He'd notice that Viktor isn't exactly socially adept and quietly move on. This is different. ]

Not when it's only convenient for you. Or when it's fake.

[ He shrugs, nonplussed. ]

[lifeskills]

_{[Victor doesn't visibly react, giving Dustin the patented Adult look when a child in the vicinity is misbehaving.]}

Which part do you imagine has been remotely convenient for me?

<sub>[Life at home, the highs of momentary happiness and the lows of confronting the truth of his actions, had made Victor soft. Being stuck in Quor'toth, breathing its toxic air, sharpens those edges again so that his reply, though calm and even, carries an undertone of challenge.

It's a ridiculous idea, and Victor doesn't even try to sugarcoat that he thinks as much.]</sub>

Pretending is a waste of time--I value mine too much to humor pretenses. If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked.

[chocolatepudding]

Bullshit. You're obligated to now. You have to pretend to just because you're older even though I've got my own shit together better than you and I'm turning twelve.

[ He should regret that. He really should, but there's something in the air, a bite, spurring him on. Like a voice is scratching at him from inside. His lips curl into a frown, fists clenched. Why had he come here? Dustin feels like he's already forgotten his original purpose.

It certainly wasn't to pick a fight, but here they are. ]

[lifeskills]

_{[Enough of this. He straightens up with an air of finality, and the message in the raise of his chin is clear: enough.]}

Dustin.

_{[It's uncommon for Victor to use a first name, an intimacy in it reserved for, as Dustin had said, friends. Has he called the boy by his name before? He can't recall, honestly. Either way, he doesn't utter it with a tone of offense--there's little too be offended by when the criticism comes from someone who hasn't lived long enough to fully understand the complexities he speaks of.]}

When you're as old as I am, you'll understand neither the world or the people in it are obligated to be kind. It's a choice.

<sub>[Posturing is a choice as well, but it's a simpler one, an easy way out. Victor's never favored the easy way. Always the road less travelled, in this and in all things. No, he doesn't have his shit together, as the boy eloquently puts it--and maybe that's a symptom of the greater disease, the fact that he hasn't tried to mask his apathy, his disdain, his hunger for enlightenment.

Call him what you want, but he doesn't pretend to be other than what he is.]</sub>