Somnambulists

[MethodicalSlacker]

A game room was perhaps the last facility Cybil expected to find in the safe house. Messed up, its placement was, alongside the cold rationality of things like athletic facilities and cafeterias and medical bays and the like. Didn't expect it to be so well stocked, either. Still he decided he'd put it to use, taking the opportunity to practice his solitaire, something he could do to pass the time while waiting for the day that he worked up the strength to go outside. Strength, and courage. Other people came in sometimes, but he was fine just sitting in the corner and playing cards by himself. If they invited him to play anything strenuous, he'd say no. If it was a board game, he'd say yes. Didn't happen too often, and Cybil didn't enjoy it too much. But it was something.

[Cybil Price continued from Let's Try The After.]

Today was a day like most others. Cold, grimy weather outside, nice heat inside. He sat at a small table towards the back of the room, playing solitaire, focus absorbed in the cards. It was also good because it only took one hand, one arm to play. The one he fell on wasn't broken. Painful to use, though. Still occasionally gave it a little shake. Pain drowned out the I'm alive that still ricocheted around the inside of his skull sometimes, ping-ponging worse than the ball at the table across the room did sometimes. It was impossible for it to go away, he had settled on. That just wasn't something that was happening, or something he wished to happen. It'd just haunt him for the rest of his life, and after New Year's Eve he had decided that he'd be okay with that. His New Year's Resolution was to be okay with not moving on.

Looked like he'd need to start over. Bad hand, bad plays. He sighed, shuffling the cards around by swirling them together into one large pile with his good hand. Found himself idly staring at the door while doing so. Bit his lip, and turned back to the cards.

Kicked his chair back a little, leaning back precariously on the back two legs only. Didn't want to go back to his room and stare at the ceiling. Didn't feel like going out in the snow. Didn't feel like watching television. Didn't feel anymore like going on television either, not that he had taken that opportunity yet. Sucked to admit, but staying in this room and pretending to be doing something beat not pretending. Only the weird spot of black on the ceiling that he thought was a security camera was watching, of course—no national attention, no—but he still felt the desire to act for somebody.

He tried putting his arm behind his head to show off that he was well and truly relaxed, but wound up losing his balance. Toppled over backwards, flailed his arms out, landed on the floor with a thud, well and truly lost his placement on the chair, he did, he did, he did, he did. Wound up sprawled out on the floor like a tossed aside blanket. Cybil tried picking himself back up, but put down his bad arm first.

"Fucking shit!" he yelped as he moved back up into a sitting position, "God, fuck!"

[Primrosette]

((Damien Crossly After Start))

Damien Crossly hadn't wanted to interact with anyone. He hadn't really talked to anyone since they were rescued and the days that had gone by were all a blur to him. He wished his mind could blur out Bianca's face. But he still couldn't get over what he had done. He wished that he could move on and be... happy? Not that he deserved any happiness right now. Being alive was a good thing.

…Right?

Damien honestly did not know the answer as he was wandering around aimlessly and he really didn't see a point in doing anything. His mind was constantly stuck in the guilt and grieving state and he honestly wondered why he had even got to go home. Well, not home, but more like.... He didn't know how to describe it. He didn't really know what he was thinking about anymore.

Damien took a deep breath, shook his head and then he stepped into the game room.

And he immediately saw Cybil fall over backwards with a chair. All he could do was watch Cybil swear and scream with a bewildered look on his tired face. What a great way to start the New Year, huh? Damien wished that he was back in his room hiding from the world again.

Cybil was the first person that he was going to talk to...?

Okay, okay. He could do this.

Damien opened his mouth and closed it again, gulping nervously. He just had to say something. Anything? Maybe even try to help him up. God, he was so stupid. Had he really forgotten how to social with other people...? He had to get himself together. Be braver!

Damien made a quick stroll towards where Cybil was on the floor and he offered out a slightly trembling hand towards him, showing him a small smile. "D-Do you need a hand...?" He asked, feeling a bit awkward and he wished that he was hiding himself under some covers right now. "I mean... uh... y-yeah.... Sorry."

[MethodicalSlacker]

Cybil heard someone enter the room and looked up at them from the ground. Crossly. Remembered him decently well from before this whole thing. Popular, usually got on well with most people Cybil had ever known. Back then, detestable. Didn't seem like a person as much as he did an idea. Pissed Cybil right off, most of the time.

But that was all before. It was the time of new leaves with fresh faces. For all Cybil knew, this man eliminated five, ten, fifteen, or even just one of his classmates, and done what he had been unable to do during his entire time in the arena. Past him would have loved that. Commended it. Now, he wasn't so sure. Trepidation filled his throat as he looked up at Crossly.

But a hand was a hand.

"Thank you," Cybil said, "and don't apologize. You didn't do anything."

Cybil reached out with his good arm and took Crossly's offer of help. Peeled himself up off the ground.

[Primrosette]

"Oh, sor-"

Damien cut himself off beside he could say it again. He knew that he shouldn't be apologizing but for some reason, he just felt like he had to say sorry to so many people. Was it now going to be a full-on habit if he thought he had done something wrong to anyone else? He didn't know.

Damien instead just gave Cybil a nod and a weak smile as he helped him up to his feet and Damien felt so strange over being able to touch someone's hand. Damien had never been a feely-touchy person. Not really. But because he had been cooped up in his room... It felt nice.

Damien realized that he had been holding Cybil's hand for a bit longer than he thought and he let him go with a slightly nervous look on his face. He was now feeling jumpy and he wondered if he should bail. No, no. That would be rude of him and he couldn't leave Cybil on his own.

"Um...."

Damien was now feeling awkward and he found himself staring down at the ground. Just trying to be who he was before everything went to crap was not going to work. He couldn't be the sociable guy that he was before. That guy was more or less gone.

Now he had no idea what to say to Cybil and he found himself looking around the room, trying to think of what to talk about. Cybil possibly was thinking that he was being a weirdo. But maybe that was just Damien's paranoid nature coming into play.

[MethodicalSlacker]

"Oof," Cybil said as he was pulled up, "'smarts."

Otherwise, he got back to his feet without incident. Not that he expected one. An incident. Felt good, to have one component of a positive interaction with another human being, even if it was relatively shallow. Gave him a shred of hope. For what? He wasn't leaving himself much of a future after this. But for some strange reason, Damien, Mister Popular, was looking strange.

Cybil squinted at him for a moment.

Maybe he had been through some things. Fucked someone up bad, maybe. Did the unthinkable, even. Considered that possibility earlier, but not very seriously. Now, though, he had to take into account the presence of that tremble in his face, a quaking in his facade. He let Damien's eyes wander around like lost rats in a sewer drain for a few moments before he said anything.

"Want to play a game?" he asked, gesturing to the cards on the table, "Solitaire is getting boring."

[Primrosette]

When Cybil had spoken, Damien felt a wave of relief come over him and he hesitantly felt his paranoia seeping away. Maybe everything was really going to be okay. Maybe being in the presence of another person was really not as scary as he thought it would be. He could try. Try to be.... normal.

"I..."

Damien stopped and his throat felt like it was clamming up. He should have really got a glass of water or something before coming in here. But now all he could do was clear his throat a little. He let out a small cough and then he glanced at Cybil with sincere, tired eyes. Try again.

"I would like to." He said with a small nod and he gazed over at the table. "I....I see. Uh.... What would you be in the mood for?"

[MethodicalSlacker]

Cybil didn't know many card games, besides solitaire. Didn't play games with anyone back before, anyway. One of the officers came in once and offered to play, but they stuck to Go Fish. War was pretty simple. Everyone knew war. Boring, though. Maybe something a bit more complicated than that.

"How about Rummy 500," Cybil said, "and if you don't know how to play that, I'll show you."

Really hoped he knew how to play that. He did. Cybil didn't have the mind to explain it right now. Only the mind to think about how bad the spot he fell on hurt. Pain had come in a wave, it did, intense as he hit, lessened as he stood, stinging as he continued to stand. Vicious cycle. By the time he wrapped things up and got to bed he'd be annoyed. Was it pain, or sensation?

"Pull over a chair, why don't you," he said, sitting down. The table was small, but they could manage.