silentspringmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silentspringmods) wrote2022-02-03 12:58 pm
silentspringmods) wrote2022-02-03 12:58 pm
( SETTING INTERACTION. )
As of 2/3/24, this is the new page where all character interactions with the setting/explorations/etc unrelated to events will reside. Here are some examples of the types of things to post on this page:
- My character would like to search the library for xyz, would they find anything?
- My character is going to approach an NPC outside of an event and do xyz, what happens?
- If my character goes asking around for x, what will they be told?
Examples of things that should still go on the FAQ:
- What kind of books does the library have on x topic? (Character is not specifically searching the library IC).
- Does the town have x facility?
- Is my character able to do x?
And, when in doubt, it's fine to just post the question on your best guess and I can move it as needed!
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"You're right. It sounds like he could be having another episode. We could always give Dr. Casey a ring."
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It certainly doesn't help that between the late hour, the lack of sleep and stress and being fucking arrested that he definitely looks - and feels - a bit manic.
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Dick speaks up. "It won't do to have you running around making people upset. In the privacy of your own home, it's a mental disturbance. When you begin to harass your neighbors over it, it becomes a concern of public safety. We're living in tense, dangerous times, Mr. Lester. The people of this town have enough to worry about without you spreading tabloid nonsense."
no subject
cw needles
He reaches into his bag and removes a glass vial and hypodermic needle; drawing up the liquid and inverting the syringe, giving it a few barely audible flicks to bring the air to the top before he slowly ejects it, stopping when a single clear rivulet runs down the thin steel shaft.
Dick steps forward, yanking up Arthur's sleeve and swabbing the bare skin of his upper arm with an alcohol pad.
Re: cw needles
"W- what the fuck are you--?" Then suddenly his arm is grabbed from out of the blackness and fear ticks instantly over into panic and he jerks sideways as hard as he can, trying to pull free. "N-no, no, get the fuck off of me-!"
cw injections/drugging
Within about one minute, before even the rustling of Norman putting things back in his bag is finished, Arthur will notice himself feeling more relaxed, even with a conscious understanding of what is going on and the fact that it's cause for great concern. A garlicky taste and smell will begin to overcome him, despite no auditory or tactile cues indicating any kind of source. His body will let go of muscle tension and his breathing will slow; he'llfeel slightly drowsy, and more compliant. Lying and coming up with ways to evade questions will now take much more concentration and mental effort and will feel like an uphill battle, like he's a salmon trying to go up a waterfall.
After a minute or two of silence, again there's Norman's voice: "That's sodium pentothal, Arthur. Makes people a lot more cooperative. It has side effects, though. Makes aspiration pneumonia more likely." Audible splashing in a small body of water, followed by several fast drips in succession as he wrings a cloth out over the water source. "Nothing I haven't treated before, but I'd still prefer not to make a huge wet mess in here if you'd be amicable to cooperating without further behavioral intervention. Now—have you calmed down?"
Re: cw injections/drugging
He nods at the question, without thinking, and his head lolls against the back of his chair. "'m going to... fucking kill you, Pollock," he murmurs, swallowing against the intense taste in his mouth. "'m going to... I will find a way to- to fuckin' prove what you're doing..."
no subject
There are hands on Arthur then, transferring him from his upright, sitting position to lying atop an angled board, strapped down with a belt across his chest and a second across the tops of his thighs, wrists still cuffed and feet higher than his head—the effects of the drug combined with his extant restraints make transfer an easy task.
One of them drapes a dry washcloth over his face. It's Norman who speaks up.
"There's nothing to prove. You're having an episode, Arthur. Now let's take it from the beginning. What were you hoping to accomplish?"
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"I want to leave," he groans, his voice muffled and distant even to his own ears. "If we- 'f we can't do it on our own then- I-I thought that... the locals would, that we could use them, I..." He tries to jerk his head again, like the motion will help him wake up.
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“And why do you want to leave? You know there’s nothing different out there. That it’s only more dangerous the closer you get to D.C. If the Reds come, it’s the capitol they’ll be after first.”
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“And you should care about the Reds.” It’s Dick this time. “If you understood what they’re capable of, how hellbent they are on destroying our way of life, you’d be afraid. You don’t appreciate how good you have it. You have food here, plumbing, hot water, electricity, access to some of the best medical care in the country. People in Red China and the USSR don’t have any of that. You can’t let your guard down. Not even for a moment. That’s how they’ll win, Arthur—when Americans get complacent, too comfortable in their easy lives. You have to stay vigilant."
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"What do you think I'm doing? I'm not- gonna get complacent, not with you bastards. You're not... gonna pull one over me."
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"We're not the ones trying to pull one over on you, Arthur. You seem confused. Like you've mistaken us for the enemy or something. Now—are you going to keep making an event out of a failed burglary and car trouble if we let you go today, or will you be the upstanding American citizen your neighbors need you to be?"
no subject
cw waterboarding/graphic torture from here on out
Dick's hands come to rest hard against Arthur's face, one spread over his forehead and the other on his chin, holding his head down on the board and anchoring the washcloth in place.
Norman begins to pour—cold water over the nose and mouth from some height, uninterrupted for a solid thirty seconds, flooding his nasal passages and simulating the sense of being submerged—physiologically indistinguishable from the feeling of drowning.
After the thirty seconds passes, the stream stops, and it's Norman's hand that folds the cloth over on itself to expose Arthur's nose and mouth to the air again, allowing him, in theory, to try and catch his breath for a few seconds around however much water has entered his airways.
"Let's try again. Are you ready to cooperate?"
Re: cw waterboarding/graphic torture from here on out
The water hits his face and he jolts, all his restrains snapping taut at once as he struggles, even through the haze of medication - it's beyond thought beyond panic it is a visceral terrified response he can't fucking breathe--
He doesn't know how much time has passed when the towel comes up, but he gasps like a dying man, hyperventilating and beyond words.
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"You handled that well. Most people lose bladder control, lose consciousness, things like that."
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"You aren't-" He still coughs, husky and tight. "Y-you aren't the worst thing that's happened to me."
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People think they’re principled because those principles have never been tested. I have a theory that continuing to refuse a perfectly normal American life in a decent town isn’t as important to you as breathing.”
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"H-how-- how many?" he wheezes. "How many- h-how many people here have you forced to- to renounce everything, o-or fucking die?"
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"Curious today. You're not really in a position to be asking questions, Arthur. I don't know how many times it's going to take for you to accept that, but we have a lot of water left in this pitcher and I have a lot of time."
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And then there are hands on either side of the board, lowering it so that Arthur's head again dips below the level of his feet. Once he's in position a pair of hands delicately unfolds the wet washcloth doubled over his eyes to cover his nose and mouth again, and then, much harsher, holds them taut with hard pressure on either side of his face.
It's Dick's voice this time: "Ready."
The water starts again, and as it begins to rush over him and into his nose, Norman says simply—
"Goodnight, Arthur."
(no subject)