[closed]

[sicklysweet]

Who: Owen & people witnessing his no good very bad forced openness.
What: Sometimes dungeon run effects aren't super fun?
When: Early October.
Warnings: gazes... likely mentions of child abuse, neglect, death & violence/physical assault, suicidal ideation, mental illness, ptsd, possibly also gender identity, transphobia and homophobia?? specific cws will be in the threads but this is not going to be a fun time for anyone. yay!

If anyone wants a thread with Owen while under the effect still, I am a) still working on some more starters but b) feel free to ask for one! Or if you want one in the fallout. There won't be anything tied to the event in this post, however, so wait for me over there.

Comments

[sicklysweet]

Why not? It can't be a worse use of your time right now.

[But... he should probably ask an actually valid question? Probably.]

How long does this sleep last, anyways?

[trollophoroi]

There's no real use of my time at all at the moment, so you aren't wrong.

[ What else is there even to do? Collect, gather, stockpile, prepare. Why not sleep a day away instead? ]

Although I hope you have a particularly comfortable bed... It lasts an entire 24 hours, same as the curse.

[sicklysweet]

It’s certainly a bed.

[It’s comfortable enough to sleep on! That should be all you need, right?]

Well, that sounds like more then enough time. When I wake up, we can just pretend this never happened. Now, I’ll be on my way…

[trollophoroi]

Oh? So now I'm not sleeping with you? [ Literal. ] Ah, my poor broken heart.

[ Fandaniel puts a hand to his heart, though he won't even feign looking sad over the fact. Owen has his solution. He's free to go use it as he sees, with or without his obnoxious little guild leader. ]

But! I think I'll survive. Sleep well, Owen.

[sicklysweet]

You can do whatever you want. I didn't think you were actually serious about any of your offers...

[Why would anyone want to cancel a whole day? For Owen's sake? Yeah, right. Nobody would ever do that. It's all just been Fandaniel's... theatrics.

It's not like he has any genuine concern. Right? He's not that stupid.

Right?]

But if you want to, I won't stop you.

[He feels so incredibly awkward now, on top of the depression and traumatic past.]

[trollophoroi]

[ Yes, that's what Fandaniel would want someone to think. Surely, he wouldn't waste a day! Just sleeping! Doing nothing of any use! And yet! Up Fandaniel stands. ]

In that case, very well! I shall be your nap buddy for the evening! And morning. And afternoon?

[ Until the potion wears off, anyhow. See, this is what happens when you just don't say no thanks, Owen. ]

[sicklysweet]

[math.gif]

…Alright.

[Well. Off to Owen’s room, then! It’s… sparse, honestly. There is a bed! With sheets, and pillows, and a comfy looking blanket…

But that’s it. The bedding is also plain white, so there’s really just… no personality to it at all.

Owen sits on the edge of the bed, flipping through his inventory to find what might be the closest he has to pajamas in all of his armor skins.]

[trollophoroi]

[ Fandaniel's just here to make it weird, man, though when he sees the inside of Owen's room he lets out a loud snort of laughter. Wow... ]

Honestly, Owen, if you had needed help crafting decor, you could have asked.

[ Though he's flipping to his own skins before taking a seat next to him in his more modern look. The boots, he'll pull off one by one and leave them to the side. ]

[sicklysweet]

Why would I decorate?

[Sorry, Fandaniel, he just lives like this.

He also settles onto something very revealing (no) for his pajamas. Nice and cozy to make sure he’s toasted alive underneath the blanket. He’ll get himself comfortable, and at least wait for Fandaniel to get settled before he tosses the potion to the floor.

Unless he’s going to keep criticizing the decor, in which case he’ll just throw it to cut him off.]

[trollophoroi]

To be more comforta... ble?

[ The decor critique ends when he turns to see the shark kigu. Oh. Wait. Why didn't he get one of those?! Ugh, whatever. He is going to get himself situated before the bottle gets thrown at least. The last thing he needs is to end up face-first on the floor for the next 24 hours.

Well, good... night? Yeah. Good night, losers. ]

[sicklysweet]

[Sorry your RNG luck is bad Fandaniel!!

Anyways.

Twenty-four hours later, Owen wakes up. He’s as disoriented as one would expect after that much sleep, and he doesn’t feel particularly rested. That’s probably the emotional exhaustion talking, because remembering everything that happened…

Blech.

It’s not helped by the aching emptiness of his stomach, but he’s slow to actually drag himself up and out of bed, pausing once upright to look for Fandaniel. He’s still there, right… Awake and alive.]

[trollophoroi]

[ Fandaniel is still there! And alive, too! But awake?

Oh, no, definitely not. He continues to sleep, curled up on one side, back to Owen, snoring gently. However, he's also Mr. Chef in Telophoroi, so if Owen wants something fresh, he's going to need to wake him up. ]

[sicklysweet]

[Rude, honestly. Owen frowns down at Fandaniel, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. It's not much of a shake, considering Owen doesn't have much strength to him and he doesn't want Fandaniel to startle awake and like - smack him in the nose or something.]

Wake up, idiot.

[trollophoroi]

[ There's a quiet grumble at the little shake, though it'll be the words that get him to stir and shift about only enough to look at Owen without fully turning over.

But he was sleeeepiiiing. Ugh. ]

Yes, yes, I'm up, what is it?

[sicklysweet]

[Now that he's awake, he gets another shake.]

Make me breakfast.

[Not even a good morning...]

[trollophoroi]

[ It earns a quiet laugh, at least. Really now... ]

As though aiding you in your time of need and keeping you company in this abysmally plain and uncomfortable bed was not enough.

[ But he rolls over to his back and pushes himself up to sit. ]

Are you feeling better after the nap?

[ If one can call sleeping an entire 24 hours a nap. ]

[sicklysweet]

[Owen pulls his hand back, sliding out of bed.]

It’s your guild, I’m not about to barge into your kitchen and leave you in my bed. Which is perfectly comfortable, even if it’s plain.

[There’s nothing wrong with his bed!

But…]

Well, I don’t feel like spilling my guts anymore, but I am starving.

[trollophoroi]

[ Everything is wrong with this bed! Owen! ]

Well, good. I am glad my plan worked so well.

[ But once Owen is out of the way, Fandaniel follows suit, sliding out of the bed and back to his feet with a loooong stretch of his arms once he's up. ]

Mm, let's see. What are you feeling like? I made sure to stock up the guild with every foodstuff I could find.

[sicklysweet]

[It functions as a bed!! So it's fine!!]

I'd have strangled you in your sleep if it hadn't.

[Is he being serious or not... Who knows. But as for breakfast... Owen thinks for a moment, frowning.]

...Waffles. With lots of whipped cream.

[Fruit would be nice, but do they even have fruit in the game... Owen hasn't leveled any profession at all so he has no idea...]

[trollophoroi]

[ Sorry, next time Owen comes in here to sleep, he'll find Cultist Grunty has redecorated completely. It's going to be a full bedroom, sucker, with lots of pillows, silk sheets, a goddamn nightstand. Prepare thyself. ]

Oh, Owen, don't threaten me with something I would enjoy.

[ Ha ha, is that a joke or...? But anyway. He'll bring his arms back down, stretch them out ahead of him, fingers lacing together so that he can push them out and stretch them, too, aaaand done. ]

Waffles? I am unsure if we have a waffle iron but let us go check the kitchen.

[sicklysweet]

[He will not be prepared in the slightest.]

Maybe it can be a treat after breakfast.

[How can the kitchen not half a waffle iron? Owen will file a complaint with CC Corp if there isn’t one.

But he’ll start shuffling towards the kitchen, making a half-hearted attempt to comb through his hair with his fingers. He’ll need to shower after breakfast…]

If not waffles, I guess pancakes would be fine. American-style ones that are fluffy and sweet…

[Not English pancakes, that are flat and sad and just bootleg crepes.]

[trollophoroi]

I did see them in the little kitchen shop in the mall area, but! We cannot actually keep anything we purchase there.

[ Very rude of the game for that. ]

Ah, but pancakes! Pancakes I can do. You will have to specify how much sugar you want, though. I tend to have a lighter hand on sugar than Americans.

[ But it's off to the kitchen with them, Fandaniel not bothering to put the boots of his skin back on, instead wandering out into the @ home in socks like this was nothing more than a stroll through his own home. There is, of course, a cheerful "good morning, my lords, hehehe~!" from Cultist Grunty on the way there. ]

[sicklysweet]

It’s weird you can’t bring any of that junk back, but if you go to the salon it sticks.

[The rules of this game make no sense…

Owen shoots Fandaniel a look - he’s still in his shark kigu, so it’s not like he can judge the fashion - but does he need to ask how sweet Owen wants his pancakes? What’s the point if it’s not so sweet you want to die?]

I want it so sweet you can barely stomach it.

[trollophoroi]

[ So sweet he can barely...

Fandaniel's step slows and he shoots a look towards Owen, face scrunching in an expression of disgust. Of all the things Owen has said and done, it's that, that, which actually grosses Fandaniel out. Amazing. ]

Surely not.

[sicklysweet]

[Ah. There it is. The disgusted look on Fandaniel’s face is precisely what Owen’s been looking for this whole time, and he cackles.]

What, you don’t want your teeth to rot?

[There’s another burst of giggles.]

I don’t really care how sweet it is, so long as it tastes good and you don’t burn anything.