thisavrou_log | OTA and Closed

Entry tags:

OTA and Closed

Who: Chara and misc!
When: Any time, will probably span as far back as Feb 24th
Where: Training Simulation Room, Library, maybe Medbay, and misc
What: Chara learns things about and in the simulation room, and avoids counseling where they can.
Warnings: General dark theme warnings for Chara! Also Undertale Spoilers.

Training Simulation Room - OTA

The Simulation Room's Default Environment #4 settings reminded them of a magazine cover. Not the interesting kind, but the boring one, with green golf courses and perfect people with perfect teeth. They were in a similar green field right now. The sky was completely blue.

Chara lifted their wrist, poking experimentally. Hadn't there been a note taped to the wall somewhere talking about controlling the room from the inside? It hadn't been very clear, and Chara is distracted for several minutes.

Without much outward warning the field shifts, and suddenly green is mixed with a carpet of yellow flowers. The effect on Chara couldn't be more different: their wrist falls to their side, and they don't seem bored anymore.

It's a sight that could hold them for a long time. They'll probably still be standing that way when someone else arrives.

Library - Closed

Their eyes hurt, and every few minutes Chara catches themself staring vacantly at some shelves beyond the book's top. They're not used to this much reading, and it's taxing them like exercisng a rarely used muscle. Can they really keep this up forever? Probably not. They have't thought that far.

There's nothing long-term-thinking at all about the way they've taken to hiding in the library. Their MID weighs on their wrist like a leaden weight, and they know there's things they should be doing. Screw those things! No one's the boss of them. They turn another page very defiantly, sinking further down in their chair.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Contrary to probable expectations, Chara did not spend most of their earlier years caught up in the juvenile criminal justice system. Things have worsened since then, certainly, but there was a time when they knew to fight quieter versions of war.

Such as this sulk, for example. Chara keeps their mouth firmly shut, glaring at the table.

Now that Eric knows Chara isn't going to become violent he leans forward, propping his forearms on the desk between them even as he tilts his head to the side. If there was one word to describe what he was doing it was analyzing, much like a hawk. The fact that Chara wouldn't even make eye contact with him was telling enough. There's a cool smile on his features when he finally speaks. "What a wonderful starting point."

Their gaze doesn't move from the whorl pattern on the table's surface, but a subtle shift in their eyebrows hints at agreement: this hasn't gone well at all.

If they stand up, he'll just follow. If he doesn't follow, he'll find them later. There's no way they can get out of this meeting forever, and they can't think of any way to make what it's supposed to be endurable. They hate this, and they hate him. Maybe they can stay like this for the rest of the encounter.

Just like before, they don't answer.

He moves, taking a couple of packets of salt out of his pocket and throwing them skyward before manipulating the air current so they form a perfect circle around the two of them. When that's done he flicks a hand and there's a dim flash of light and he tilts his head to the side again, definitely like a hawk this time. "There. Now no-one could possibly hear what you have to say to me. You won't lose face. Care to actually start this time?"

They shoot him a dirty look, then pointedly glance away. The salt isn't visible from their distance, if it's even still there at all. What did he do? Something with the torn little salt packets, presumably. Magic. If he's a magician, what else can he do?

Nothing that concerns Chara, apparently. Their gaze has migrated down to the book left on the table, and they idly flip pages back to the one open when he'd arrived.

Eric wasn't in the mood to play games, which probably wasn't the best way to be doing things. If there was one thing he knew how to do though? It was antagonizing someone into talking eventually. He slips a hand into his pocket until he feels cool stone and then waves his free hand, vanishing the book. He's still just sitting looking perpetually calm though, wondering how far he'd have to push to make Chara crack. He knew it wasn't the best way to do therapy but this wasn't his choice, it was part of a mandate, after all.

Rage that could fuel a murder flares up behind their eyes like fires in a forge, and they pour every watt of that look right at him. How dare he. He did that deliberately.

But.

Chara doesn't want to attack him. They also don't want to get thrown back in the hold so soon after their escape, not for this. They take in a shallow breath, then another.

Bit by bit, they gradually settle into a slouch even more dramatic than before, consoling themself with dark thoughts that haven't quite followed their relaxation attempts. The bookshelves behind the doctor might just tip forward inescapably. Or maybe the doors will close on him on his way out, crushing every bone in their way. Hah. Or maybe...

Eric smiles pleasantly at the sudden beacon of rage that Chara had become, the emotions slip off his cool mask instantly. If it weren't for his empathy he might have laughed at the display from someone so young, but underneath all of it he felt it and it was a true rage, not a child's translation of it. Behind it though he can feel something else, some hint of those dark thoughts swimming in Chara's head and granted, it was disturbing, but it was nothing he hadn't handled before. It was probably infuriating, the fact that his expression hadn't changed even once through all of it.

Chara's eyes eventually leave his face, returning to the table. The dark thoughts continue on in spite of this. Maybe a shuttle would fall on him, crushing him even more completely. Maybe someone would stab him outright, once in the back, and again from his front, where he could see the face of his death. Maybe he'd die by poison, blood and bile and burning spilling from his mouth--...

... He'd deserve it, but Chara can't stand finishing the thought.

The lines of their face have smoothed unreadably. Maybe they should get another book to try and read, but he'd probably just tell them to sit back down if they tried.

It probably would've been worthwhile to subtly have worked a few calming charms around the space between them, or at least to have done something to sway the the mood in the room. He supposed though, that it wouldn't have been quite right to do that. "Chara Chara Chara... will you ever grace me with the sound of your voice? You had no problems speaking with me moments prior to now."

Ugh. It's a harmless approach, but Chara rolls their eyes anyway, crossing their arms. Then they uncross them enough to call up the time on their MID, trying dimly to guess how long they've been there. Could they literally spend every session like this for the next few weeks? ... God, this hell will never end.

The screen winks back off, but Chara hesitates against recrossing their arms. Instead they activate the screen again, this time calling up the 'Games' directory. Could they...?

Now that was incredibly rude... and if there was one thing that Eric didn't actually like it was people being intentionally rude. It was one of the cruxes of his job, if people didn't want to speak with him then they would sit there bored as anything during the entire session. He knew it added an aspect of misery to the sessions but they were to be used either as an aide or as a time for deep reflection. He reaches into his pocket once more, a frown crossing over his features for once as he feels for the crystal again and mutters the word obscurez, the area around Chara's MID suddenly blurring in such a fashion that one wouldn't be able to make heads nor tails of the screen's contents. "I would thank you not to try and ignore me, Chara. At the very least you could use this time to think. Not play games." The tone of his voice, surprisingly, is almost fatherly. He'd spent a lot of time teaching children of the coven over the years after all.

They're less surprised this time, but it's still infuriating. They shoot him another glare, mouth open and blurted words on the tip of their tongue--and it's World War III on their resolve. They want to snap at him, but they also want terribly to not lose this one-sided siege.

In the end they close their mouth and subside, glaring stoneishly at the table's edge. They're not even sure how this all started by now, but it's a fight where they're getting opposition, and that's more than enough for them to continue.

This, well this really was quite the fight. He'd been ignored before and he wasn't a big fan of it, mostly because it was disrespectful. Of course he didn't deserve much more than basic respect from Chara, they didn't know his titles or position after all. But there was basic respect too, which this really wasn't. He reaches one last time for the quartz in his pocket and closes his eyes, focusing intently. He'd need to wrap this glamour around the two of them for it to work and usually he only used it for someone having a panic attack or a complete breakdown. When he does open his eyes again though he can see the magic bleeding into place- everything around them turning white, the table disappearing, the chairs beneath them disappearing until it was just the two of them surrounded by a blank canvas of nothingness. He doesn't look pleased with himself, not at all.

"What the--"

Chara jumps to their feet, whirling around. The library is gone, as is the chair they'd just sat in. When they wave a hand at the space it had so recently occupied, they only find air. The ever-present whisper of the ship's circulation and electronics has disappeared, like a pulse suddenly silenced.

They don't fly at him, but they do turn his way, eyes narrow and sharp.

"What did you just do?"

The expanse around them is soft, and no less dangerous for it. Chara's voice mirrors this quality.

He looks around them, clearly satisfied with the results of the spell. Of course, he could see the edges of it, knowing exactly where to pull if he wanted to dispel it. But for now he'd keep it exactly where it was, knowing how beneficial it was.

He cracks a smile when Chara finally speaks, folding his arms across his chest. "There it is, that voice of yours." And he looks around them. "I just... eliminated some distractions."

Realization hits them like a pillow to the face, and they're not happy, but there's also nothing they can do to take the words back and hide them from sight.

He's doing this to get a reaction out of them. He wants them talking, and he wants to guide this conversation to things he has no business prying into. Like Miles. Like others. Chara plants their feet and folds their arms, mind churning for some kind of counterattack.

"Well, this is pointless. I can stand here and ignore you just as easily as I did back there. You now that, don't you?"

Eric examines his fingernails in a deliberately nonchalant gesture. "You could, yes." His voice turns slightly hard, this was the voice he reserved for criminals who needed to atone, not for children. "But then- well, you'd never escape. I have spells that will keep me going, I have years of patience backing me up, I have a wealth of experience with this kind of thing that I imagine will get quite boring for you."

"You don't know the first thing about boring," Chara says. Some of the absurdity over how seriously they're asserting this tugs at their mind, and they ignore it pointedly.

"You're also not the only one with years of patience. And you literally can't keep me here forever." Not even for more than an hour, they're hoping. This is just going to last for a session's length, right? It's not uncertainty that's starting to crawl through their mind, but it is--unease. They have bravado. They have the pigheadedness that comes from automatically putting fists up at the first sign of someone pushing back. What they don't have is a noble cause that they'd stand beside long enough to miss dinner.

"Believe me, I do..." And then he realizes something, the moment they say he can't keep them here forever, he can't help but chuckle. "They... they didn't tell you the stipulation of your punishment, did they?" He drums a finger against his thigh. "You heard mandatory therapy and what did you think? Ten sessions? Each an hour in length? Then I sign a slip of paper and we never talk again? That would be how it worked back home, yes, but here? Here I don't get paid by the hour, none of us do." He tilts his head to the side, becoming once more like a hawk. "Besides... that's... that's not how I work. Not when I've got a mandated patient. We have all the time in the world. I have spells that will keep both of us awake, healthy, alive, even content..."

He stops speaking for a moment, glancing as to how Chara might be reacting before letting out his final comment. "This isn't an appointment Chara. This is therapy, this is help, plain and simple. It doesn't have time limits and it doesn't have a quota. I'm responsible for your mental well being and the mental well being of everyone else aboard this ship. It just so happens that you need more attention than most."

They're not reacting well. Their face has turned red, and the pressure of some emotion inside of them is rising fit to explode. They're outraged. They're appalled. They're...

... horrifyingly close to tears. Would Chara rather attack him than let it come to that? They might, but it's no use, since then they'd have trouble and the rest of this 'encounter' to get through. They step back and glance around. Their hands open and close helplessly. There's no way out of this.

What had the thread of their original conversation even been? 'Getting acquainted', if they weren't past that point then, surely they must be now. What should Chara do? Tell him 'I'm Chara and one time I killed everyone I could reach'? It's such a bald declaration that they can't bring themself to it. They don't want to start with that, even though they might as well, because they're not ashamed when it was something they still wished they could make happen.

Shining over-brightly, Chara's eyes rake across Eric for answers and questions to answer, pouring as much rage and hate as they can into the look. Every inch of them sings with tension, and even if there were a chair, it might be difficult to get this statue to sit back down in it.

The display of emotions doesn't exactly shock Eric, in fact it continues to please him. If there were emotions behind all of this then it at least meant something- it meant that Chara was still in possession of themself. If they had maintained a level of apathy it would be more worrying, almost sociopathic, that they'd murdered before.

He hadn't expected Chara's eyes to be glistening though, that does send a pang of regret through his own consciousness if only because for all intents and purposes it made him think he was about to make a child cry which no-one ever really wanted to do. He steels himself though, because although a child, he was also dealing with someone clearly capable of murder.

He stares unblinking into those eyes though, absorbing every ounce of hate and rage until he feels it stoke the fires in his own heart and he's forced to break eye contact, glancing away for just a moment. "Making me the target of your hate, of your anger... it won't change anything. It won't help you and it won't make me run away."

"Send us back," they demand unsteadily. No, hating him won't make him run or improve anything, but smashing a fist into his face would sure feel good. He didn't answer their silent (hate-muddled) plea for direction, the one they'd hoped he'd miraculously understand, and it must mean he's hopeless. If he can't figure out what they mean just by looking, then it means Chara's going to have to talk, and the thought alone makes them want to scream. They don't want to. He'll try to make them.

Landing back in the hold after trying to kill their therapist is looking better by the minute.

"Now."

OTA and Closed

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