OPEN;

[crypdick]

WHO: The Outsider & YOU
WHERE: various places
WHEN: August !
WHAT: Catch-All for August feat. kryptonite plot & non-kryptonite plot prompts. Also the Void.
WARNINGS: The Outsider is spooky and morbid and talks about a lot of disturbing subjects, just, generally.



Kryptonite

[The Outsider is so used to being the observer, unaffected and untouched - but finally something has forced him to be involved. He had been observing a flying rat with some amusement during the meteor shower, and got hit himself by a chunk of deep, red stone. He caught it inadvertantly, and to his surprise he actually felt something more than bored . He felt very amused. More than amused - outright, dare we say it, giggly. His normal appreciation for chaos has been increased tenfold, and he's actually smiling.

Nearby a dog, hit by X-Kryptonite, has discovered it can bark fire and sets a bench ablaze. The Outsider, capable of hearing its thoughts, thinks this is the funniest thing and is giggling uncontrolably.

If something weird or embarrassing happens to you, he might openly laugh at you too.

It's more creepy than anything, really.]

Later in the Month

[After recovering from the little incident above, the Outsider goes back to his calm state of observance. He moves through the Porter cities, looking for incidents that are interesting enough to pay attention to. He moves across rooftops, hoping to avoid his new "Cult of the Outsider" fanclub.

But for some reason you catch his attention - maybe you're doing something superheroic, or less than heroic, maybe some native is hassaling you, or something else you're doing that's strange or interesting. Or maybe he looked at you and saw a vision. Maybe he knows you and dropped in to have a conversation.

Whatever reason, there's black smoke that forms in front of you and the Outsider appears.]

Having a nice night?

The Void

[You were asleep. You're still asleep, but things have... changed. It doesn't feel like a normal dream anymore, it feels more real. You're more aware. You're on black stone floating in the Void, and as you observe something in the landscape - maybe a piece of his world, maybe a piece of yours, maybe one of the floating whales, the Outsider appears beside you.

If you've never been here before, wandering in accidentally, he says:]

I see there's a new visitor in the Void.

[If you've been before, or are someone he knows, he simply greets you by name.]

Comments

later on

[knaval]

[as of yet, he's not actually used enough to the outsider to really be able to judge that black smoke. riptide waves his hand through it with some confusion as it appears near him, crouching to squint at it.

then... ah. that guy pops out of it.]

Not really. I'm bored, [he says with a shrug of his massive shoulders.] You wanna hang out, or something?

[crypdick]

"Hang out"? [ Said in a mildly amused way. ]

Perhaps we can find something more interesting to occupy our time, together.

[knaval]

Sure.

[he waves his hand over the outside, through the smoke that's still dissipating.]

Can you survive underwater? I forget.

i'll take "i thought i tagged this" for 200

[crypdick]

I cannot.

[ Mildly annoyed about that. He'd like to spend some time underwater. ]

rp hard

[knaval]

Bummer. I can take you inside me!

[he says, like that's something normal to say and not mildly horrifying.]

I'm airtight! [riptide thumps his chest, echoing a clang.]

[crypdick]

I've had worse offers made to me.

[ ...Outsider..... ]

Very well. Maybe we can find a whale.

[knaval]

Whale, whale, whale? [he comments, lightly, as he gestures for the outsider to follow.

that reply is completely lost on him, alas.] Probably could if we go out far enough. Dunno if I could get you deep enough before you suffocate.

[crypdick]

Then perhaps not. No matter, it should still be entertaining enough.

[ He does follow Riptide, in blinks and bursts. Walking is for chumps. ]

void

[gigue]

[Vanya's dreams are mostly stress or anxiety related: in school again, arguing that she knows room 603 is on the sixth floor, but where are the stairs - or riding a bus and trying to pull the chain to get off, but they keep passing her stop, and the next, and the next, until she's miles off course. Tonight it's a cab to the moon, but wait, she forgot to feed her neighbor's cat before she left - when abruptly the cab is gone and with it the fuzziness of the dream.

She's standing on a jagged bit of pavement, or stone, staring at some half collapsed structure in the distance. It looks - it almost looks like - she doesn't want to remember the Icarus, and her eyes focus instead on the whale gliding through what would have been the stage, if it was whole.

When the Outsider speaks, she jumps, stumbling as she whips around to stare at him.]

The Void?

[crypdick]

A fragment of it, at least.

[ Answering things outright is always tiresome. He's more curious as to what her mind has formed here, and looks at what she doesn't want to look at. ]

There are often those who wander in, natives and imports alike. Luckily, you're the latter, aren't you?

[ Even when he doesn't bother to speak to anyone he keeps track of the Network and those who reach out on it. He likes to watch. ]

[gigue]

[Vanya sees the direction he looks in, and doesn't follow it; if he wants to look at the ruins of the theater where she started an apocalypse, he's free to. Besides, it's easier to look at people when they're not looking at her.

Inching toward the edge of the stone she's standing on, Vanya peers down into the depths, trying to gauge how high up it is. It just winds up making her dizzy, looking for a bottom that doesn't exist, and she backs away again quickly.]

I - yeah. How did you know?

[Her brothers' new powers involve empathy and telepathy, and she really doesn't want to think how many other people have that.]

[crypdick]

[ His gaze turns back to her, those black eyes taking her in. She looks unobtrusive enough. Her manner is nervous. But the Outsider knows (or thinks he knows, in his way) that the Porter doesn't bring in someone who doesn't have some sort of story. Once he would have seen it all, watched it all, and have known who was worth his time. Now he has to guess, pry and poke. And sometimes, provoke.

He leans forward a little, conspiratorially. ]

The interesting ones always are.

[gigue]

[It's easy to provoke Vanya, probably surprisingly so; a product of her upbringing, having anyone both conspire with and calling her interesting is bound to rise in her esteem. It doesn't take much.]

I'm not that interesting.

[But it doesn't take an expert to hear bitter underbelly there. She spent too long believing she wasn't, and now that she knows she is, she's afraid of herself. Somewhere beyond the hollowed out shell of the Icarus, a a one-eyed body floats, a veritable pin cushion for all manner of household things: dinner knives, pens, cooking utensils. Vanya doesn't see it.

She wants to keep his attention, almost childishly:]

I'm - I'm Vanya. Are you - is this real?

[crypdick]

This place is real and isn't real. A dream, drawing on our minds and memories. But I am real, and this conversation is real.

[ Meaning he'll remember this. Just as he'll remember that corpse. Uninteresting people don't have that floating in their minds, usually. ]

I am the Outsider. Not an alias or title, it is as close to a name as I have. Before you ask.

[gigue]

[She wants to tell him she wasn't going to ask, but she might have, so she bites her lip instead. It's not like she's unused to weird names, though, and - well he's strange, but he's interesting, and he's called the Outsider and he's paying attention to her. Vanya feels compelled to do what she can to hold onto that.]

My real name is Number Seven, so...I get it.

[crypdick]

"Number Seven". Not the kind of name you would be given out of love. And not one you love yourself, if you no longer go by it.

[ There's no pity or sympathy in how he speaks to her, nor is there judgement. An observation, with a touch of curiosity. ]

[gigue]

It just doesn't make a lot of sense. To most people.

[He is painfully right, and that is hard to admit, even to strangers in dreams.]

We just weren't like most people. And - neither are you? [It's plain to see, but still comes out as a question.]