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

[collegedropout]

[He chokes on a laugh, surprisingly.

Now that isn't something he expected. It's almost nice. It is nice.

Sure, he still is a heavy-armed, tired man, but it's something.]

Very funny. What, I'm stuck in the pound?

[hollystrike]

[She's amazed she got him to laugh. It lightens things, just a little, though she knows very well that such amusement will be fleeting.]

More like hiding under the bed so people can't pester you. Big, fluffy dogs need their space too, don't they?

[collegedropout]

[He worries at his split lip, smile flickering.]

... Pretty sure dogs don't cause nearly as much trouble.

If all I did was tear up the couch, I wouldn't be here.

[hollystrike]

Dogs don't cause nearly as much trouble no. [Softly. Sam.] But they also can't throw themselves away to fix it, can they?

I'm pretty sure a dog couldn't save the world. Though I suppose I could stand to be corrected.

[collegedropout]

[He shrugs, unsure how to take those words.

Because they sound kind of nice towards him, and he's not used to that as of late.]

Not much of a choice there. If I let the world explode, I'd be a real douche-bag, right?

[hollystrike]

Well, at least that means you don't think the utter worst of yourself.

Do you know how many would rather the world end than go through an eternity of agony, Sam?

[collegedropout]

[He ducks his head, wincing, almost as though it hurts to hear this. Because it's -- an attempt to be nice, instead of the usual. He's not sure how to handle it right now. So he rubs his arm and keeps his gaze away from her.]

It doesn't -- make me anything decent.

... I had to. I just... did. I still made it happen. It doesn't... mean anything.

[He's trying to erase out Katie's words. Set it straight.]

Why're you telling me all of this?

[hollystrike]

You thought you had to because your own code of honour told you that you had to. Nobody forced you here at gunpoint, did they?

That makes you a good man, Sam I Am. [She rests her cheek on his shoulder.] And someone ought to tell you that.

[collegedropout]

[He quiets, not really sure what to say. His liquid stare flicks from the dark toward her less dark face, the gleam caught off the crack of light entering their hiding place.]

... Do you think Dean knows? [Spoken as if she'd know Dean. As if she were there for the whole damn thing.] That I'm sorry? That I really did... y'know. Try. I wanted to try, for him most of all.

Do you think he knew? Before everything was done, d'you think he... forgave me?

[hollystrike]

[Katie's personal opinion of Dean has always been rather judgmental. But there's not much else that can be gleaned when an echo of him follows Sam around to tell him how he's not good enough, isn't it? She knows now she's older that that's just Sam's lack of self esteem reflected back at him, but it doesn't change the fact that perception had to come from somewhere.]

Dean is your brother. He loves you. I've no doubt that if he were angry with you at all, he just misses you now and wishes he could have you back. Forgiveness is a given with family, isn't it?

[...hah.]

[collegedropout]

I don't know... I think this is something kind of big to be forgiven for.

[He clenches his hands.]

I, um... I miss him... so much.

[It's not even just because they're family. It's like a pull in his chest, separate from the torment of Hell. They're soulmates, for better or for worse. They're bound in ways people aren't always bound. Every moment that passes, his mourning for his brother's company grows more and more of a chasm in his stomach, in his heart. He blinks, and then rubs his eyes, not wanting her to see his weakness.

But there's a lump in his throat.]

I see him here, but I know it's not... really him.

[hollystrike]

Mmm. In a place like this, your imagination will show you all the things you miss.

I wish I could show him to you. [...if she had the right arts, maybe she could. She's never had the patience for such endeavours.] But even if he doesn't forgive you, that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. You know that, don't you?

[collegedropout]

[He bites his lip.

And it's a considerable moment of contemplation, but important. Invaluable.

He nods, smiling tensely.]

I know. I know he does.

[hollystrike]

Then you remember that. Hold it close and never believe otherwise. I suppose Lucifer tries to tell you otherwise, doesn't he?

[collegedropout]

[... He nods, after a heavy pause.

It's the truth. Lucifer wouldn't deny it; he says what cuts deepest.

Sam just usually accepts it as truth.]

[hollystrike]

Do you always believe everything he has to say?

[collegedropout]

... Most things.

[He rubs a hand over his arm.]

I know a lot of things are true, that he says. I used to fight it, but...

[What's the point? Especially when he was right.]

[hollystrike]

You know, people who like to lie will always tell you enough truth that you swallow everything they have to say. [She should know. But this is moot. Even if she manages to convince him of this, it's a fragment out of time-- Sam's already been through this. It doesn't change a thing.]

I suppose it's a little harder to sort truth from lies when you hurt so much.

[collegedropout]

[He may very lost, very broken down, hardly something anyone can change right now, but -- he seems to hesitate.]

Guess that's true.

Honestly... I'm not really sure what's worse... The torture, or being left in the silence... with yourself, just you, you know. Trying to figure out what's a lie and what isn't.

... Makes me sound kind of nuts, huh?

[hollystrike]

Makes you sound human, I think. No human does well with being left alone to their thoughts for too long.

[Isolation is also torture.]

[collegedropout]

[... That does make him feel a little better about wanting to keep her company.

Even if he thinks she'll turn into something nightmarish in no time.]

You... ever been long for a long time?

[hollystrike]

Sometimes. But I was lucky. I always knew someone was coming for me.

Do you think it's harder or easier to have that hope?

*alone, a+ ashlee

[collegedropout]

[He considers it for a moment, very carefully, like this answer is life or death.]

... Maybe... It's the same either way.

Until the hope's completely torn down, I guess. Once it's ripped down, there's not a lot you can do to bring it back.

hey I knew what you meant

[hollystrike]

And is that hope completely gone for you...?

[collegedropout]

[........]

I... Yeah, I think that's true. I mean.

I have hope, just -- for other things. Things that aren't about me.

[That has to count for something, right?]