Glitch | "Who wants to remember all that hell?" | OTA

[collegedropout]

Who: Sam and you. Also Hell!Sam.
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Iskaulit
When: 1/25/17 and onward as he glitches.


WARNING for Supernatural being awful, so you'll find stuff here that will be very mental health oriented. Mentions of torture/abuse, potentially graphic in narrative, talk of hallucinations, hell, the devil, etc. Sam'll also be reacting as someone who has endured said things listed so if that sort of thing bothers you don't mind me (or if you're close CR lemme know and we can work around it). Sam's a hot mess 'de-aged' for a week to season 6 (~5 years ago in canon), where he hasn't been resurrected yet and thinks he's still trapped in hell. Your character may think he's canon updated into the future but it's quite the opposite! Luckily!


WEDNESDAY/THURSDAY. AFTERMATH, CONTINUED. Space Bar/Garden/Iskaulit. (aka anything you wanna do before he glitches)

[Sam has busied himself with helping with repairs; luckily things aren't quite so awful looking, and the debris and blood's been relatively cleaned away. The garden is one of his top priorities, actually, other than helping re-open the bar (which congrats, guys, we did it! just need some replacements but...), and he can be found carefully replanting and plucking dead leaves and sadly pulling any of his herbs that were too damaged to salvage. He also helps with the library and works on any damage the Bloodsport sustained. Everything seems to at least be getting back to normal. That's good. Really good. And as much as he wishes they'd been spared the attack — Aria's still out, even if she's not dead from her injuries — he at least finds a shitty silver lining in being too occupied to think.]

FRIDAY. LIBRARY. "who wants to remember all that hell?"

[And on schedule, per Sam's luck, he glitches.

He's in the middle of quietly reading in the library when it happens, like a punch. His eyes roll back and he's out for the count, slumping forward, unconscious — for a short while. Images dance behind his eyes, voices teasing him from afar. If you happen to find him here, practically comatose against handwritten accounts of what happened during the raider attack, you'll find he looks — bad. Pale pink scars have formed on his arms and neck and face, and he twitches in the throes of terrible images, eyelashes clumped and wet. Despite what it looks like, he hasn't updated to a new point; he hasn't gone to the future.

No, he's gone to the past. Down below, trapped with the devil himself in a cage. De-aged years back, before he was resurrected, plucked from hell by Death himself. An attempt to rouse him will give the visitor a surprise: Sam jerks like he's been burned, shuddering like he's been struck by lightning before he throws himself back from the chair, toppling it with him, a strangled NO flying from his lips as he blindly crawls back and away. He's terrified and confused, utterly confused.

... Good luck.]

GLITCH. Iskaulit. Garden.



[After he wakes up from the library, anyone who expected him throughout the day will find he'll absolutely miss any appointments. He can be found wandering the Iskaulit, actually. He's not all there — actually, he's trying to figure out where this hallucination begins and ends. Nothing makes any sense, but there's no way he's going to think he's out of hell. No, this must be some elaborate prank by the devil. He's just... waiting for the whole thing to fall apart. Sure, he hasn't seen any familiar faces, and usually things would have gotten violent by now, but... you know. You can't trust Lucifer and his new tricks. Always, new tricks. You can't torment someone for eighteen decades without mixing things up a bit.

The nervous figure rubs his hand along his burn-marked skin, over rough scarring, and looks nothing like the usually confident and good-natured man Sam usually is; he's flighty, and his eyes dart to any little noise like it may very well be the death of him. Er. Well. He's pretty sure he's dead anyway, but the... mutilation and reconstruction of his soul, if you will. He doesn't want to be found, but it's inevitable. His teeth chatter behind his lips and he passes like a ghost, gray-rimmed eyes and disheveled appearance unnatural on his figure.

Sometimes if he hears someone approaching, he finds a place to hide and wait it out. Whether or not the person in question doesn't find him is another matter entirely, but regardless, he'll look at you as if you're aiming to behead him and squeeze into the smallest hiding space he can in order to evade your destructive hands. Because you're probably Morning star, you know? Probably.

He revisits the garden, temporarily eased by the plant-life growing there. Lucifer always did love nature. One of the few pleasures he was allowed was to witness exquisite scenery sometimes, when the devil was feeling generous. It was always accompanied with some sort of terrible double-edged sword, but at least Sam could enjoy that much. He sits with his legs pulled up, long fingers awkwardly plucking at someone's plant — he's a bit confused, because even though he's completely sure he's in hell and has been and never will get out... there's just. Something off. Something different. When he breathes, it doesn't hurt his lungs. And his bones don't crunch when he walks. And there aren't any hooks, aren't any flames (yet, Sam, yet, don't assume anything).

Even so. He huffs tiredly, head rolling on his shoulders, and plucks off a small fruit, unsure if he's even capable of eating it.

It's not real, it's not real. It's not. It'll probably turn into razors in his mouth.]

... This cage isn't very hot.

[Or frostbite-cold.

It's quite... pleasant, this temperature. 

Everything is different. The devil is probably enjoying his owl-eyed confusion.]

Comments

[steeledskin]

[ and what is resistance but a kind of fear, turned outwards? sansa freezes -- baleful blue eyes drinking in the strange scene. no one has ever been afraid of her before. not least of all a great big brave someone like sam. her mouth goes dry. there's a rustle in the distance, and she knows it's ghost -- getting into trouble. but she doesn't turn her head. ]

Up here. [ her brows furrow. ] Surely, you meant to say that they're not listening up here.

[collegedropout]

[He's tired. But that's nothing new; he's always tired. He just wants to sleep, but he knows he can't — souls don't need to sleep in Hell anyway. He just needs to exist. And remember. Remember all the good things, even if they're getting fuzzy. Remember the good things, and the bad hurts less. Be good, be kind, he thinks. Be good, be kind. Don't let him twist you into something bad; that's how demons are born. He doesn't want to be Lilith. Lucifer promises he won't, but he also had promised Sam once before that he'd never hurt or trick him.

Funny, how losing your war changes your promises.

Sam looks at the garden, expecting it to die. His voice is soft and low.]

... No, we're not up anywhere. I know it's a trick.

And I know you're you. You can — do whatever you want. I'm not falling for it today.

[steeledskin]

[ sansa's expression hardens. not with malice, nor even distrust. but it's how she's learned to cope with her fears -- going from porcelain to ivory to steel, so that nothing can get underneath her skin. not even the sudden erratic behavior in a trusted champion.

she stands as straight as she can. and although sam is considerably larger than her, she is tall in her own right -- pushing nearly six feet now that her growth spurt has settled. ]

Fall for what? Sam, I will not lie. Not to you. [ she will lie through her teeth with ease and grace with many others -- even her own blood. but she's resolved to be honest with him. now that ahsoka is gone, he is perhaps the one person with whom she can be truthful -- not because they are especially close, but because he offered himself to fulfill precisely that function. ] I give you my word.

[collegedropout]

[Sam shakes his head, bangs falling into his face and rather uncharacteristically left there. There's no reason to keep track of appearances here. Really, it's the last thing on his scattered mind. He shrinks as she stands straighter, turns a little as if he wouldn't dare match her in stance.]

You said that before. You said you'd never lie.

[He huffs a humorless laugh.]

Said you'd never hurt me. But... that changed a long time ago.

[He glances at her, and braves an inquiry.]

I don't know this girl; why're you... using a face I don't know?

[steeledskin]

-- You don't know me?

[ something's not right. something, she suspects, is quite wrong. she senses dysfunction like a scent on the air and it turns her stomach. sansa's teeth grit and it takes all of -- all of -- her best resolve to not turn tail and flee this very moment. what roots her to the spot is only an ingrained trust in this man. ]

Sam. I'm Sansa. You said you'd always be there for me. Always.

[collegedropout]

... Sansa...?

[He touches his head, as if the act will magically help him remember. His stomach drops and he tries vainly to remember her name, her face, that promise. He's always ruined what he's promised; he ruins anything he touches. Lucifer knows, he reminds him. He loves to remind him. He blinks when his eyes grow hot with frustration and disappointment, trying to remember that he can't show that kind of hopelessness yet.

He steps back again, troubled, scars masked behind bangs.]

I don't know you. I don't... This isn't real. None of this is real. I know I'm still down here. Any minute, this is all going to fall apart, and I'll be there... I can never get out.

[He's not really talking to her, but she may find some familiar talk in that rambling; it's the same problem she learned he faced, but boy, is it an entirely different situation.]

[steeledskin]

[ -- he's unraveling. she can see it, now, like she's seen it in others. worse yet, the very mark of his madness reminds her of marillion after he'd spent far too long in the sky cells. after that, she'd been certain the bard would have confessed to anything. said anything.

against all her better judgment and craven nature, she holds her ground. ]

It's real. Or -- if it isn't? Then it's a lie being told to the both of us. A very sweet and very tempting lie. I cannot blame you for distrusting it. Sam. [ she says his name again, feeling terror in her bones as she actively tries to pull his attention back onto her. ]

[collegedropout]

[He flinches again, this time at his name - and looks at her like he has no choice. For better or worse, Sam will listen to her, and he will do what he has to in order to lessen whatever fury she — he — may have. He clasps one hand around his wrist and rubs a spot there.]

You can't be here. It's not a lie for you if you're not here. [But you are here, so there's only two options: either you're the devil, or you're a hallucination conjured up by the devil.] Even if you're not him, you can't be here. This is the Cage; nobody comes in or gets out. Nobody.

I know better.

[He glances at the spot she'd been at just moments before.]

Just like I know prayer can't work.

[steeledskin]

We are standing in the gardens aboard the Iskaulit. We are part of a fleet, Sam. We are two of many. [ slow and soft. she speaks in a tone reminiscent of the one ahsoka had taught her during meditations. sansa doesn't think she'll make a lick of difference -- she doesn't have enough faith in herself to operate under the illusion that she might help anyone, let alone sam. ]

Who do you think I am?

[ she flinches when she asks the question -- clearly expecting just about as much retribution as he does. ]

[collegedropout]

[He shakes his head. It's not real.

He's never heard of an Iskaulit or a fleet.]

No, this is Hell. Those tricks don't work anymore.

[... She asks that, though, and he looks desperate when he glances up at her.

This is it, this has to be there it all falls down.]

You're, um. You're — Lucifer.

[He sways where he stands; so tired, so hungry. But he can't be. He's not alive anymore.]

[steeledskin]

[ hell she understands -- though in westeros, the faith spoke of seven hells. she bites her bottom lip and rallies scattered fragments of her patience, her courage, her kindness. they are not easily found and less easily assembled. ]

Lucifer? [ she copies his pronunciation exactly, straight down to the tone and accent. she doesn't know how else to ape the word he just said. ] You're mistaken. I've never heard that name before. Not back in the Seven Kingdoms and not here.

[collegedropout]

[Genuinely, he's surprised to hear that. Would Lucifer trick him in such a strange way? Sure, yeah, maybe he would. Maybe he wants him to think there's no such thing as monsters, no such thing as devils. It'd be a childish and foolish thing to believe.]

He tried to break down everything. He hates humans. He tears things apart, almost ruined everything, and part of that was my fault. I had to... I jumped, and I took him with me. So he'd never hurt anyone ever again.

[It doesn't feel like Lucifer, and that's terrifying, because what is it then?

How does it feel so wrong here?]

Do you understand? I did what I had to do.

[steeledskin]

[ most of what sam says makes very little sense. except -- except, of course, for all this talk of jumping. even now, sansa can recall in exquisite detail standing on the red keep's walls. her father's head on a pike (next to septa mordane's) and the cut of joffrey's cruelty. in that moment she'd convinced herself she ought to jump from the castle wall and take the king with her. end it all. end everything.

but she'd been craven then, too. and before she could find her strength, the hound had stopped her. ]

I do. [ she breathes. ] I do understand. But wherever you went, it's not here. Although I fear I cannot prove it.

[collegedropout]

[His stomach growls; it makes no sense. He shakes his head.]

No. There's no getting out. I'm sorry.

This is my penance. It's punishment. That's why you can't be real.

[He closes his eyes squeezing them shut for a brief moment.

He murmurs:]

Nobody else fucked this up but me.

[He was the least of anyone. So he jumped. And he did one last decent thing before he went.]

[steeledskin]

[ telling him things is getting her nowhere.

so, instead, she asks: ] Punishment for what?

[collegedropout]

[He quiets, apparently shamed at the answer he's considering.]

I tried to stop the devil from getting out... but I ended up being the one who let him out. It was an accident — but... he hurt a lot of people, y'know...? So, um. I needed to be the one to fix it.