vyvyan: (clean)
vyvyan ([personal profile] vyvyan) wrote2016-10-26 05:46 pm

(no subject)

It was almost liberating. For a whole week, he didn't change scene. Nobody bothered to visit. Nobody was watching. Perhaps, if he'd pushed himself, he could have forced a scene change, but why bother?

It meant the smell didn't come back when he bathed, after the first couple days. His hair unstiffened. His skin felt better. It was a surprise when, after four days, the studs fell out of his forehead, but he didn't care.

Alone, Vyvyan pondered his future. It was boring in the cell.

And then, it was all over. Released. Wilford is alive. He'd never been more relieved.


He has to muster every ounce of concentration not to change scene when he steps out the cell. If he's going to stay looking like this, he'll have to concentrate in every doorway, between every room. Sooner or later he will forget, he knows, but he's determined not to do it today.

He deposited a note at the bar.

I know you came back, but I want to apple aplogy say sorry for causing your death. It was an accident, but I was careless, because I knew that you reset if you get hurt, and because I was bored and winding you up was funny.
I should have been more simplethetic, really. I know what it's like to reset every five minutes to look like a knobhead. We're probly the only two of our kind here, which doesn't mean we should be like poofs or anything, but perhaps if I hadn't been a bully we could have been mates or something.
Anyway, you're not dead, well done.

Now what? Young, clean, normal-looking, only slightly insane... where to go next?

He concentrates, heads outside, and lights a cigarette. Maybe he'll have to give these up if he's not going to reset. Probably worth it.
cottoncandypink: (grrrrrr)

[personal profile] cottoncandypink 2016-10-26 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Wilford knows from experience that the resets will drive a person insane. Sanity is a rare unicorn where Wilford is from. Wilford's endured – from his perspective – almost a century's worth of pain, torment, and death over the span of just a few decades. Nobody comes out of that with their head on straight.

If this wasn't just how things were, Vyvyan's note might have had more impact. Wilford doesn't care that this isn't how things are for anybody else on this side of the door.

He doesn't care about anybody on his side of the door, either. But that's beside the point.

The poorly-written, barely-legible note just gets under his skin more than anything. He crumples it up and tosses it aside, trying to at least maintain an illusion of calm as he steps away from the Bar to hunt down the little orange-haired bastard to give him a copper-jacketed piece of his mind.
cottoncandypink: (Default)

[personal profile] cottoncandypink 2016-10-26 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
As far as Wilford is concerned, Vyvyan is still where he left him – dead out in the mud outside. He know that Vyvyan is a resetter, and doesn't particularly care, though there is a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe this might be an Event. But Wilford knows better than to get attached to that hope. Vyvyan will be back eventually.

For now, he's enjoying a brief moment in the bar without Vyvyan, though. His shirt is stained with Vyvyan's blood, and there's still some smeared on his arm where he couldn't quite bother to clean himself up completely. And he doesn't care about that either, because he knows how this place works. He might get thrown back in jail for a while, but as soon as Vyvyan resets, nobody will care anymore.

Which is why he's calmly enjoying a drink at the bar right now.