[Closed] misteaks' mistakes (catchall)

[gluttoning]

Who: Misteaks and also some other people
What: Event catchall + dungeon runs
When: August - September, maybe later who knows
Where: various, please note in headers
Content Warnings: parental death, child abuse (emotional/verbal), child death, ED mention. Please cw in headers.

[overflow and log space for August and September]

Comments

CW: parental loss; for swallow

[gluttoning]

[from here.
--

You remember it was raining. The sound of the storm echoed like thousands of footsteps hitting the roof and the windows.

You're not very old. Four, perhaps. But you're excited. Your mother is pregnant. The house is busy, and she maintains it like a well-oiled machine, even when the baby is close. All of your brothers are excited. Even your twin, a little boy with a flash of deeply dark hair, gets a tired little smile over the subject.

The baby is going to be a girl. The only girl in a house of six boys.

You remember the rain when you wave goodbye to your parents as they leave the home and leave you with a babysitter, a quirky teen with her hair in a side ponytail. You like your older brother Lucas more than her, even though he's only twelve. He's more like mom than this girl is. As the sitter works on a game with Levi and Aiden, Lucas comes to check on you and Booker. Booker slept through most of it. You remember that well. You remember asking for snacks, and crying when you were told "no" by Lucas.

The rain continued over the night and into the morning. You were left in your bedroom for a while longer than usual for the morning. There were a lot of phone calls.

A lot of phone calls.

Lucas is on the phone. Why Lucas? Why does he look so cold when he comes to get you out of bed, instead of the sitter?

"Is mom home?"

He shakes his head.

The sitter isn't as energetic. The day crawls. Your oldest two brothers have shut themselves in their bedroom. You can hear Matthew crying.

Levi and Aiden are playing a game. Aiden is winning. Levi pitches a fit. You watch them. You watch the window. You ask when mom will be back. The sitter doesn't answer right away.

It's very late when the sound of wheels against the wet pavement wake you up. Several pairs of bare feet are running down the carpeted stairs, watching your father at the front door with an umbrella and a baby carrier.

It's such a small baby. She's so pink. Lilith is her name. "We can call her Lily, right?" You like that Aiden suggests it.

It's Levi that has the trembling voice that breaks the excitement.

"Where's Mom?"

There's no response. Dad shrugs off his coat and asks for the sitter to help him take everyone back to bed.

Where's Mom?

It's a little bit of a chorus now. Lucas doesn't ask. Matthew doesn't ask. The rest of you do. Levi is panicked. Aiden is angry. You're confused. Your father never answers.

He never answers.

You're being dressed up. The church is cold. Everyone is quiet and sad. You see the box with the lid.

Why is there a body in the box?

Why is the body so gray and cold?

Why does the body look like Mom? Mom? Mom?

"Is Mom going to wake up?" You ask as Lucas sets you down. He shakes his head.

"She's gone now, Barrett. You need to say goodbye."

You don't want Mom to be gone. Booker drones out the name at your side, and you can hear people crying in the pews. Even when the box goes into the hole in the ground, you don't want her to be gone. Father watches, and his eyes are cold. He looks over his sons, and his eyes are cold. Like a different person. Washed out in the rain.

He knew what to do now... right?

The baby is still here. Lily is still here. You want her to be happy. She has to be happy. She won't ever meet Mom. But your family can still make her happy.

Right?

...

--]

-- I like the ones that make you look short. I don't know why. It's always made my brother laugh, I guess.

[Misteaks continues a train of thought, apparently unaware to whatever was just viewed. He flexes for fun at a mirror and chuckles to himself.]

[threatmewted]

[She doesn't answer, because she's too busy staring at shock at that mirror, having played all that out - though by now, it naturally looks like a regular, if warped mirror once more.]

[gluttoning]

[A beat.

The silence is getting a little thick. He turns back look towards her, brows knit a bit in confusion at her wide-eyed look.]

...Hey. Are you okay?

[threatmewted]

[Yeah, uhhhhh what does she even say to all of that??? It was a lot to begin with, not to mention they're literally playing a video game right now and if it hadn't been so detailed she'd honestly think it was just a vivid, if random hallucination.

But...

But even if it was, that's... way too much of a coincidence, isn't it?

So with all that said, Beel can probably watch her as she silently debates what the hell she wants to say.]

...

Hey, totally random question. Is your real name Barrett?

[gluttoning]

[He immediately locks up.]

How did you...

...

Uh. I mean. Um.

...Why are you asking?

[threatmewted]

[Oh cool. Okay. Well, she didn't actually plan this far ahead, so now she's floundering again.]

I just... saw something in a mirror? Besides just a reflection.

...

It was about a kid who looked like you. Or, I mean - I guess it was you?

CW: child death, verbal child abuse

[gluttoning]

[It's hot outside. It's hot in here. Though the air conditioner of the cramped minivan is blowing as the engine comes to an idle, you still shift uncomfortably in your seat from the back, feeling the press of the seat at the strange steep angle your car always took in the driveway. A little dark-haired boy of about seven, the same age as you, nods off against your shoulder. Your father has a phone crammed between his ear and shoulder as he buckles your three-year-old sister in, motioning for you to hold her seat still while he fumbles. She giggles happily watching the charade.

A beat, and your father halts, drawn in that way that he only does when he's forgotten something. A naughty word drifts from his lips, and your sister is left to her own devices for a moment, the mechanical noise of the emergency brake echoing like nails on a chalkboard as your father leans over to secure the car, shift it to neutral and free his keys. The parking never seemed to hold. Bad transmission, he always said

"None of you move, got it? I have to go get something from inside. Stay here."

You nod. Your sister babbles out a retort. Daddyyyyy, can we get snacks? But he seemingly ignores it with little more than a mumble, closing the door loosely on the three of you. You can hear the faint jingle of his keys as he runs up the driveway and back towards the house.

The little girl lets out a dramatic sigh, kicking her legs from her unfastened car seat. The noise wakes up your twin brother, who looks around in confusion.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He went inside. We gotta stay."

"...I don't want to. It's too hot."

"No, Booker, we gotta--"

But Booker's already on the move like a tired cat, squeezing out from his seat to climb over the cupholders and into the passenger seat. Your sister squeals, and you hear a mumbled "Oh... Sorry, Lily." as Booker pulls his legs through.

Booker's always been smaller, a little faster, and now isn't much different. You can't follow his pace, feeling your face tighten into a frown. "You'll be in trouble up there." While you want to climb over after him, you second-guess it, instead squeezing past your sister's seat to fiddle with the sliding door.

"Beaaaaaar can I go out??"

"No, Lilith, I'm just going with Booker. Stay here."

"But I wanna go... I wanna go with Booker too!! Not fair...!"

Lilith continues to squirm as you leave the side door open and free yourself out onto the concrete, stumbling a bit in your sneakers before wrenching the driver's side door open with a pouting frown. Booker's already turned the air conditioner on full blast and is sticking his face directly on the nearest passenger-side vent with a tired giggle. You lean in on the seat, pushing yourself up a bit and trying to avoid the wheel. You hear the sound of more jostling in the back of the car, the sounds of effort from Lilith very clearly trying to get out of her car seat.

"Come on, Booker, Dad's gonna be really mad if he sees us up here."

"I'll go back when he gets back. Don't wanna be hot."

"Are you gonna get a funny mark on your face if you stay like that?"

"Heheh... yeah."

You feel a tug against your leg from outside the propped car door, followed by a whine. "I wanna see Booker!"

Lily? Oh. She got out of her car seat. You sigh, reaching for her arm, but she slips it free with a giggle, toddling backwards with her hands framing her grin.

"Lily, no. We gotta be in the car."

"Noooo. Boring, it's boring."

It's a parrotry of Booker, something that makes him snort. But she's already tripping her way down the concrete slope towards your collection of discarded bikes and sidewalk chalk. "Lily, hey, no--"

"Mn. I'm gonna go with her."

Before you have time to go after her, Booker's already trying to kick the passenger side door open with one booted shoe, calling for your sister. You protest, crawling right back into the driver's seat and over the stick shift to grab his shirt. Stay put, Booker.

Your knee jams against the lever for the brake, and you screech as you feel the tingling go down your leg. The lever pops up.

The car starts to roll backward.

Booker lets out a mild noise of alarm. Hey, what's happening to the car? You feel the movement. You pull your legs in instinctively as the door swings shut behind you, as the sliding door pushes wide open as the momentum starts to build. The brake... the brake, you need to make the brake work, your hands wrap on the lever but it doesn't budge--

There's a thud. A scream. You feel the back of the car lull, one tire higher than the others. The momentum slows, painfully, and your blood runs cold. Booker is yelling next to you.

The brake. The brake, the brake, the car is still moving and the tires are thudding and leveling out and--

Booker presses the button at the top of the level with both his hands and yells for you to pull the brake. You do, feeling your shoulders pull painfully. The noise is like nails on a chalkboard. Nails on a chalkboard. Nails nails nails.

She's screaming.

You can hear her screaming and wailing from inside the car. From under the car.

Booker's kicking the passenger door open. You fumble for the driver's side, dropping your feet to the pavement. Booker's calling for her.

You see her. Some of her. The back of her head. The limp way her limbs sit like a doll thats been tossed, squished between the car and the pavement. She's crying and crying and crying and it's starting to stutter and fade. There's blood streaked across the concrete.

You scream for your father. You can't move. You want to help her but you can't move. It's hot. Everything feels cold. You feel like you might throw up as you stumble towards her, knees hitting the pavement.

"Lily, Lily, I'm right here... Lily, I'm so sorry, Lily, grab my hand...!"

She cries, and cries, and doesn't move past the stuttering of her chest. You can hear your father. Some of your brothers. You try to grab for Lily's hand. It's limp against your own.

Lily? Lily?

Your father is frantic. He's on his phone. He yanks you by the shoulder, and you're deposited backward onto the concrete. He's trying to get her out, he's trying to talk to her and talk to the phone. He's crying. She's crying. She's getting quiet.

Booker has his fists balled in the back of your shirt as you try to get up. Your oldest brother, a fifteen year old with hair as dark as night, blocks your vision to herd you past the front of the car. You don't want to. Neither does Booker. Lucas, you don't want to. Lucas, you can't leave her there. Lucas, you don't want to. You don't want to.

He drags you both back to the porch.

You hear the ambulance.

What happened? What happened? Your brothers are all asking. It feels numb and so far away, caught up in the lights and the paramedics. The car is in the way. You can't see them take her from the porch. Your dad returns to coldly snap some words to Lucas, and the look you catch from him is the angriest you have ever seen him.

The ambulance leaves with your father aboard. The concrete stains red. The house is in panic. Lucas tries to keep calm. Some are yelling, some are hiding away. You can't tell. It's noise. Noise and static. Your hand is still stained red. Booker stays glued to you, crying in shallowed breaths.

What do you do?

...

He comes back alone.

He comes back in tears.

He brings you both to his study. He starts quiet. He wants to know what happened. Neither of you can bring yourself to say. He gets louder. He yells. He gets in your face. He yells.

He gets an answer from you. Stuttered. Empty.

"So it's your fault??? You disobeyed me. You disobeyed me, and look what happened.

Look at what has happened because you aren't smart enough to listen. Do you see that, Barrett?

What do you have to say for yourself?"

You sputter. You try to apologize. He starts to rant. It's all pained words. To you, to Booker. All that feel like truth. It's all truth, isn't it?

Your fault. Your fault.

You can hear him arguing with Lucas later. You don't want to eat. You don't want to sleep. You look at her empty bed from where you curl up and go quiet. Her toys. Her drawings. Despite the screaming that colors the home in the following days, it's too quiet in your room. You want her to come home.

She won't.

You see the small box at the church. The lid stays closed.

You feel sick. You can't get close. Your father has to practically drag you. You want to cry the whole time, even with his grip so firm on your shoulder that it can't feel like reassurance. It burns in your chest. But the tears feel empty. It feels so empty. You feel empty.

She's gone. She's dead. And it's your fault.]

for Mithrun:

[gluttoning]

--Mithrun?

[It's a blurred sound as Misteaks kneels next to him, two different ridiculously oversized drinks in his hands. He follows his line of sight briefly, brow furrowed.]

What's up?

[tablescraps]

( Mithrun's good eye seems unfocused as he's taken in by the memory, his expression coloring with startling shock - guilt - that seizes and grips him in a way he'd never felt, had never had been allowed the privilege to. There is, too, an overwhelming love for his siblings, enough to twist into a sense of responsibility, and grief.

When Barrett finally gets his attention, he'll see some singular teardrops at Mithrun's eyes. Which for a moment Mithrun doesn't recognize either, until one falls. Uncertain, he presses a finger to the edge of one eye, and, after a moment, recognizes what it is, though the fact that he's capable perplexes him. When was the last time he'd cried? Had he ever? )

... I think these are yours.

[gluttoning]

...What?

[The cups are put to the side. Is Mithrun tearing up? Maybe he just got something stuck in his eyes, but... what's with the comment?]

Did something happen?

[tablescraps]

( Mithrun is quiet for a moment. Saying he saw what he thinks might be Barrett's memory isn't going to make any sense no matter how he explains it, but he's thinking there's some kind of - neural leak going on. )

... I think I saw a memory that belongs to you, in the mirror. One about Lily.

( Not a happy one, clearly. )

for Hector:

[gluttoning]

[Misteaks has seemingly remained completely unaware, his back still to Hector as his eyes drift over the endless path of glass, hands shoved into his pockets.]

...Sorry about before. Really.

I know you mean well. I'm just having a hard time shaking a weird feeling I have about this place.

[secondthoughts]

[ Hector remains frozen.

He stares at the mirror. His reflection makes it seem like his head is a little bigger than it actually is, but that's not what he's thinking about. Had he just relieved a moment in Misteaks's history?

He remembers what Misteaks told him—about Lily. About the van.

That was what happened?

It may have been a long time ago, and maybe it doesn't hurt as much as it did in the moment, but the way the loss settles in the pit of his stomach is all too familiar.

Gruesome. How awfully, terribly tragic. ]

...Barrett. [ That's all he can think of to say. That one little piece of information. ] That's your real name, isn't it?

[gluttoning]

...

[He slows to a stop, looking over his shoulder in very blatant surprise.]

I... uh. Yeah.

How did you know that?

[secondthoughts]

[ Hector stares at himself for a few moments longer, watching as his brows comically lift and knit in concern. Maybe he'd laugh under different circumstances. But he just...can't.

When he looks at Misteaks, that concern and desperation is written all over his face. He searches the boy's face for anything besides surprise. ]

I think I saw something I shouldn't have.

[ His voice is low, like the mirrors are watching. ]

It was your sister.

[Closed, mithrun, cont.]

[gluttoning]

[Moving from here

--

Barrett slips out of his guild bedroom with a rather distant expression, glancing around the guild lobby slowly before spotting Morgan against the couch.

It's hard not to hear him approach for how heavy his steps hit. But if Morgan hasn't noticed, Barrett will give him a careful tap against the shoulder with two of his fingers.]

Hey. Sorry to ask, but can we move this to my room?

[tablescraps]

( Mithrun looks up, and, without a word, stands. )

... All right.

( He's studying Barrett's expression, but he doesn't know how to interpret the cues he's getting. Maybe the story was too heavy for him?

He'll faithfully follow him to his room, though. )

[gluttoning]

[It's not a very decorated room - if the storage areas dotted around weren't present, one would think nobody bothered to use it. The door clicks shut behind them.]

...Thanks. I felt like it might be better to talk than email, but... I didn't really want Levi walking in.

[Or anyone.

He motions to the bed, where he takes a heavy seat on the edge.]

...Can I ask a weird question?

[tablescraps]

( Mithrun sits at the edge of the bed as well, next to Barrett. )

What is it?

[gluttoning]

...

Did it ever scare you? The ways you felt when that was happening, I mean.

9/13

[gluttoning]

[On gating into Mac Anu, Misteaks can be found pretty quickly neat the Chaos Gate itself! It's hard to miss a giant fly man currently dressed as a very sexy nun. His tits look very nice. Praise Jesus.

More noticeably is that he's not... looking great. Though AFK, he's still seated next to one of the nearby buildings, a thin sheer of sweat over his exposed skin with a pale complexion, the distant look towards something unseen from a character with their menu screens up.]

[tinged]

[ normally, hani would gladly ogle bear all day, especially when the girls are oh-so-lovely and pious.

but... he really doesn't look good and they're immediately worried. they dab the sweat from his forehead with their kimono sleeve and cast an ul repth, which does nothing as he suspected. hm. :( ]

[gluttoning]

[At least his health bar is nice and shiny and assuredly full now.

There's a few beats of silence before his avatar jolts back to awareness as his headset's readjusted. His breathing is slightly uneven.]

Oh... h-hey, Hani.

[A deep inhale, a shaking exhale, his palm rolling tight against one of his legs. Shit, it still hurt...]

Sorry. I'll be okay. No injuries. Just... really hurt bad while I was in there. I c-- can't really shake it.

Maybe I gotta turn pain sensors off.

[tinged]

Bear-kun…

[ they kneel down next to him and keep dabbing at his brow, like a worried pet pawing at its big human to be okay. ]

Try it? Right now.

[gluttoning]

[He nods, a numb motion that makes the veil on his head drift as he pauses to pull up another menu. Another pause, as he considers, before shaking his head.]

No luck. [He groans lightly, leaning despite himself into their travelling touch across his forehead.] Ugh... I haven't felt this awful in a long time...