i n b o x

[handsomefoil]

"This is Henry. Leave a message."

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text [un:lilmonix3]

[holeinwall]

[ Monika's been stewing on her feelings for days, so that meant she definitely had to write a poem. She'd gotten rather used to expressing herself to others that way, even if she didn't want to admit it.

So who else better to unload all her feelings on than the one guy who drives her nuts? ]

Box

I was watching a black screen, once bright white
Burning red swelling in my chest.
One had joined me before, before the box had opened,
but that time had closed, come to an end.

Still, I couldn't help myself.

Caught in the frame was a distant time, a bitter me
A promise of a better life
An endless utopia of freedom and fiefdom.
Discovery, newness, understanding.
Disappointment, notoriety
Unrepentant undoing.

Maybe I thought that tinkering with a distant ghost would tether it to me,
Bring it to the fore so that I could grasp it once more

But every touch pushed it further
And every rush got fainter and murmured.

That yearning would never stop, though, that deep stare into the ether
Because maybe this time, it would be the moment

That it'd finally swallow me whole.

[ The message comes with no warning or explanation at an odd hour in the middle of the night, since she's still not used to the concept of sleeping normally. She's not expecting an immediate response, anyway. But it'd be better for him if he did give her proper attention...

Thanks in advance, Henry~ ]

[handsomefoil]

{ It's late, sure, but he's also a very light sleeper. While the buzz of the hell-made Blackberry buzzes quietly on the bedside table next to him, he's still at first. Soon, he drowses awake from a seemingly unknown source. His instincts tell him to check his phone. What he sees is quite...shocking.

Shocking, but pleasantly so. Holding the phone in his hand and away from his face, he stares up at it and squints blearily, letting the harsh light from the screen penetrate his eyes. It takes him a minute to adjust and his eyes start to track slowly across the screen, scrolling down further and further until he takes in the entire poem.

A poem. Of course, a literature club would certainly cover poems. }

What are you up to now, my dear?

{ A huff of amusement follows right after. His voice is low, under his breath so that he doesn't wake any of his temporary roommates. It's not something he feels he can reply to right away with enough nuance or class, but it doesn't feel right to just read it and leave it. She just presented another sliver of her soul to him in the form of...well, a free-form poem. It's not for him, but it's a poem she wrote about herself that she decided to share. It must be given the recognition it deserves, he thinks, justifying his actions.

The picture she showed him comes to mind when he's done re-reading it again. }

You have quite a way with words
Let me take a stab at this while I'm still properly coherent
A torrent of emotions captured within a single screencap
And you're letting me be privvy to them?
How generous.

[holeinwall]

[ When he actually does reply, Monika's thrilled. She doesn't try to fight it. He's not there to see her reaction, and she doesn't give a hoot if her roommates notice something. Slowly, she smiles in the glow of her phone screen. ]

thank you!!!! 😘

[ Ah, crap! That response was too fast and immediate! She couldn't make it seem like she'd just spent ages staring a hole into her phone, waiting for a reply. So lame!

She takes a deep breath, glancing at objects in the darkness for an arbitrary amount of time. Okay, better. ]

you've mostly got it! but there's more in there. that's for me to know 😌😁❤

still it's cool that you were able to get it. consider it my gift in return for the bow~

[ Because true to her word, she sure had cherished it. Gotten obsessed with it, really. There was a moment where she'd spent an hour staring at herself wearing it in a mirror, letting her imagination run wild. It was glorious. ]

besides, i'm definitely known for my generosity. you're welcome! ❤❤❤❤

[handsomefoil]

{ He doesn't doubt that there are some other hidden meanings and nuances within this poem that are indiscernible to him. He doesn't know the details of her AI-Life, after all. That doesn't bother him right now. He got the gist of it and that's enough for him right now.

Fortunately, he doesn't care whether she answers back quickly or not. Whether he realizes she'd been just sitting there waiting for a reply or not, it's not something he thinks about. She could've been doing something on her phone after she'd sent it for all he knows! Yeah. }

I appreciate the effort in the details
But a little mystery never hurt anyone :)

Thank you
It's a lovely if a bit dark poem
Guess that's what makes it good

{ Honestly, it is a generous thing for her to have spent the time and creativity on such a personal piece, only to share it with him. Even if she ends up sharing it with others (he doubts this, considering just how secretive she'd been with her identity) it would still be a special gesture. }

But you do realize what this means, yes?

[holeinwall]

[ Aww, look at him using old school emojis! So cute!

But more importantly, he's giving her praise. Sure, she wrote the poem for herself and her needs, but to get rewarded for her efforts? Ugh, who needs drugs when she's got that sort of injection of happiness flowing through her veins?

It takes her a good while to respond again since she's so deep in her euphoria. Eventually, she shakes herself out of it, blinking at his question now that she's paying attention. Somewhat. ]

what does what mean?

putting this here now so i don't forget lol

[holeinwall]

[ On Christmas day, the goblins don't drop off much, just a simple envelope with a wax seal. There's something written on the front under Henry's name.

I feel like you deserve this more....xoxo

Inside, there's a picture he might find familiar. It's more beat up than he might remember, crinkled and bent in places. One part's even ripped, since she'd started tearing it up at one point. She'd had a change of heart, however, eventually deciding he could hold on to that small snippet of her past.

Written on the back of the picture is a poem. She'd had it etched in her memory, so it wasn't too hard to write down for him. And while he wasn't the one she wrote it for, she feels like he's the one it was ultimately meant to belong to.

Fate was something beautiful.

Merry Christmas. ♥ ]

morning after - 1/1/21

[handsomefoil]

{ A pinching and throbbing sensation wakes him up suddenly and all too unpleasantly. His head aches and he can't remember the last time he'd gotten a hangover like this before. Vague snatches of his memory from last night come back in a hazy cloud, but chasing it only makes it worse, so he gives up altogether.

Oh, but one thing he does remember.

He looks around the heavy atmosphere of the room. There was no natural light filtering into this room so it always feels dark and oppressive, what with its gothic style furniture and blood red color scheme. Dark wood, red palette, with accents of gold and brass. Getting up, he looks for the person he last recalls seeing and... oh. }

Hm.

{ A tray of drinks and condiments meant for coffee and tea sits on a small table in the room, but from where he's standing by the couch and from the table, in between is an utterly ridiculous sight.

On the floor, still in her green party dress, hair down and mussed up, barefoot.... is Monika. She's curled up on the floor, her dress gathered up haphazardly in her arms and between her legs like some makeshift blanket and he'd laugh if it wouldn't send his mind spinning again. Instead, he just huffs out his nose in tired amusement. He... recalls something, something uncomfortable from last night. Her scream rings clearly in his mind, if nothing else. }

How did you end up down there, hm?

{ He murmurs quietly under his breath, his voice groggy and fried from sleep and drinking too heavily. Kneeling down by her, he hovers for a moment, taking in the utterly goofy spectacle of her laying slightly twisted on her back and side. She isn't snoring, but she's breathing out her open mouth and making soft whimpering sounds in the back of her throat like she's having a dream. }

[holeinwall]

[ Monika is indeed dreaming.

It's one of her typical ones, being out on a date in a park on a perfect spring day. She's dressed in a flowy white dress, having a picnic...and it's pure bliss.

But, as always, the face of the person she's with is merely a blur. It's more of a concept of a person than anything, which makes the dream frustrating, as usual. This time, though, she swears she can almost see the face of her mystery person. It's probably why she keeps making noises. She's straining hard in her dream to see more.

Aside from a few twitches, she doesn't seem to respond to him coming near. She's too deep into sleep. She'd forced herself to stay awake (to be a total creep), but eventually, not even a truckload of caffeine could win over the need to rest. And so, she will soon realize what was meant to be a trip for more coffee had turned into a trip to dreamland. Whoops?

...At least the floor caught her. ]

[handsomefoil]

{ She murmurs in her sleep again as he continues to hover over her. Despite the silly display, he wears a weary sort of smile on his face. She's quite the handful. It's never boring around her, he thinks, which is the draw of Monika. It's infuriating, stimulating, harrowing and uncontrollable. Maybe if he'd been a normal human being, he'd consider it exhausting. But he likes it. In some bizarre masochistic way, he likes it a lot.

After a moment though, he decides this is no place for her to sleep. Gathering his strength, he slides his arms under her legs and supports her back, lifting her carefully off the floor in a bridal-style carry. Similar to how he'd carried her at the pool, but with more support this time and probably way more comfortable were she awake.

Going over to the luxurious four-post bed, he sets her down on it just as carefully. The mattress is plush and comfortable, as it gives under her weight easily. He fusses with the sheets a little opting to lay just a thin layer over her as it's quite warm in here (or maybe that's just him), while letting the comforter stay beneath her. He hadn't been coordinated enough to prepare the bed before setting her on it anyway, so this is the best it's gonna get. }

Ugh, water...

{ His body could really benefit from a purge right about now. }

[holeinwall]

[ The unexpected movement translates into her unconscious mind as a strange sinking feeling in her stomach. It's enough to jar her vaguely awake, then gradually more into the world of consciousness.

She doesn't open her eyes, though. They're still heavy and painful from lack of sleep, and it feels like it'd take a herculean effort to get her eyelids to move.

A soft groan escapes her. Now she's realizing her dream was lost. And right when she was so close to having a face! Maybe if she goes back to sleep, she can get back to where she left off...

But wait. Something's weird. She didn't remember lying down on the couch. And who's talking about water?

Monika lies there, groggily trying to figure things out with her snail-paced brain. Or maybe it'd be easier to just give up and return to dreaming? Hmm.

So far, dreaming is winning. Yeah, dreaming is good. She shifts, facing away from him, getting more comfortable. And then her eyes shoot open.

Oh shit. ]

[handsomefoil]

{ The water only makes his nausea worse. It'd been his intent to throw up the contents of his stomach (he didn't eat much, thankfully) but it'll always take him a moment to warm up to it.

After downing the water bottle in one go, he chucks it somewhere on the ground. His head is pounding. Somehow, he manages to remember the bucket that Monika had so graciously provided for him.

He doesn't hear her stir or groan. Mostly because he's too busy pushing his face into the bucket and breathing heavily. This is yet again another blow to his pride, but...well, he feels too tired to care at the moment. He can only hope she doesn't witness such a mortifying spectacle.}

2/10 so that none of the real shenanigans have started lol

[holeinwall]

Monika stares up at the ceiling of her room with empty eyes. How had things fallen so far, so fast? That thought's been looping through her mind for the past few weeks. There was a lot she could handle--she'd done it plenty before! But so much shit being flung at once was bound to get to even the most put-together of people. A feeling she'd thought was finally going to disappear had begun to creep back into her insides. Loneliness was gnawing at her relentlessly.

She needed an outlet. A...normal one. Now that Yuri was around, she had to be on her best behavior. Ugh.

Poetry was always safe. So, she sits up, grabbing one of her most special of notebooks, for the most special of poems, her fingers running over the bee on front before she flips to a blank page. With a deep breath, she begins to write.

I woke in a darkened room, in a darkened time,
Lost nor found, nary a sound
To place me in a place that could guide me to an answer.

I was discarded.
It was my second fall.

To keep me warm in the dark, I thought of you.
Your first kiss to my lips, a peek of Heaven.
Our second sordid kiss, a lick of Hell.
It was my shining beacon, cutting through the thick despair.

But he wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He wASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WASN'T THERE

The pen falls from her hand, her breaths coming hard and fast. It was like she'd glitched. Even writing about herself, it all circled back to him.

Monika shoves the notebook away and it falls to the floor, her crazed words still mocking her from below. With a huff, she grabs her phone and angrily punches out a quick message. come to my room. you know where it is don't you? the doors will be open. No emojis. No cheer. So he should know she's serious.

After unlocking everything for him, she flops back onto her bed, blowing loose hair out of her face. She still found it hard to wear her ribbon more than necessary, after it'd been so...tainted by Yuri. So much had been tainted. She was tainted.

Someone had to pay for it.

crawls in w/ starbux, spills it everywhere

[handsomefoil]

Now, see, Henry had been having a week just kind of... recuperating from this past week. While in the moment it'd been all kinds of wild, got his blood singing, almost like a brief moment of craze, the comedown had been rough. The Frenzy, most of all. He can always calm himself down after a little torture, but the drug hit a lot harder than he'd expected. None too surprising though, he'll at least say that much.

So as he's laying down, wearing some of the borrowed clothes from who even knows where, the blackberry vibrates ominously next to him on the bed. He'd say he mostly feels better now, though still a little tired, but not so tired that the seemingly cold and almost callous tone of the text doesn't rile up some intrigue.

He likes to think he knows Monica a little bit. Better than some. Maybe. He's pretty confident, regardless. So, this text message gives him a bit of pause. She must also be feeling very confident, thinking he'll just drop whatever it is he's doing to hightail it over to her room. It's a tempting thought, to just let her stew in her emotions (whatever they may be), and simply drag this out until she explodes at him... but it's also equally tempting to respond as she likes.

The memory of her strung up, bleeding by his hand, screaming and crying in frustration as he read her sins out to her crop up in his mind. The last three sins, in particular.

Well, maybe ignoring her would be too cruel. Even he can't deny that. He also can't deny that her demanding and no-nonsense pull doesn't make him want to dig in his heels. He just wants to follow, see where it all leads. So with little hesitation, he straightens himself out and smooths out his clothes (they may have been found, but it's still slacks and a button up with a tie, as usual) before leaving the room.

So obedient, he can hear his mind jeering. A little girl, just barely legal can just lead you around by your dick and make some kind of fool out of you, can't she?

Thoughts deftly ignored, he stops in front of her door. He hadn't answered her text, but he also hadn't taken his time getting here either, so now he's at a weird sort of impasse. Would he seem to eager just showing up a mere few minutes after the message? Should he at least message her to say he's thinking about it, about her, and to toy with her expectations (then surprise her with his presence)? It's all rather stupid, he thinks. There shouldn't be so much thought put into this.

With a huff, he grabs the knob gingerly, and carefully turns it. As promised, it's unlocked, and the door slowly creaks open a crack as he peers in to check before revealing himself. He doesn't say anything upon arrival, simply watching, waiting.

slips and sues for emotional damages

[holeinwall]

Monika sits up quickly at the first sound of the doorknob moving. Wow. She didn't expect him to come so fast. It pulls a smile out of her. Good man.

But the smile is short-lived, gone by the time he's stepped inside and replaced with the dull expression she'd been sporting before. Maybe it'll help hide how much she'd immediately wanted to jump up and throw her arms around him, despite it all. Maybe.

Instead, she lifts her gaze from her sheets to him, pulling her knees closer. She's wearing painfully cute pink pajamas, covered in all sorts of cartoon animals and hearts, loose and comfortable. The same could be said about her room. Aside from all the obvious signs of a writing and book nerd being strewn about--books, papers, pens--there were a number of cute, comforting things all over. The typical teenage girl's room, or as close of an approximation as she could get to one. Aside from, you know, his mini shrine.

One of her bedside nightstands had become devoted to him. Meticulously placed there were his Christmas gifts (minus the ones currently on the floor), the gaudy bow he'd given her during their first meeting, the two untouched bottles of alcohol she'd grabbed for him on New Year's, and a few random things that reminded her of him. She'd stare at them as she laid down to rest, sometimes for hours at a time, sometimes grabbing something to hold and pretending he was there with her. As said, the typical teenage girl things.

Slowly, she pushes herself to her feet, giving up on trying not to be near him. Her voracious appetite for affection couldn't be tamed any longer. She steps over, pausing in front of him to look into his eyes for a moment, then with a soft sigh, wraps her arms around him and buries her face into his chest. She'd missed his scent, his warmth. She had to indulge a little.

When she pulls back, her eyes meet his again. There'd be time for indulgences later, maybe. Now? Something more important had to be dealt with. Her lips tremble as she watches him. He'd hurt her. Caused her so much grief. Toyed with her. Abandoned her. Made her melt in his arms, over and over.

Monika reels back and aims a slap at his cheek. It might not land, it might not do much if it does, but she doesn't care. It'll make her feel better. And that's what's important.

pays u immediately

[handsomefoil]

He had been feeling cautious before, but now there's some flags being raised as she crosses the room and closes the distance between them so easily. The adorable backdrop of a teenager's room only makes it that much more unsettling.

She throws her arms around him and he pauses very briefly, a little surprised by this display of affection despite the tone of her text. He'd been expecting something, but now he's not so sure. His hands rest gently around her shoulders, just so they're not hovering around uselessly in the air. She remains silent throughout, so he follows suit.

"Monika?"

The words come out a lot softer than he'd wanted it to, but it's fine because one minute she's looking at him and the next minute her hand is coming straight for his face. Granted, this is something easy to avoid. Something that could be seen from a mile away. And yet, he doesn't feel compelled to avoid it or stop her. The expression she'd worn on her face right before the slap made him stop, like he deserved this at the very least.

His head jerks in the direction of the hit from the force of it. She's not terribly strong and he doubts that'd been all of her mustered strength channeled into the slap but there's a distinct weight to it. After a minute, he inhales deeply and turns his gaze back to her.

"I deserved that."

case closed

[holeinwall]

She scoffs. "You deserve a lot more."

With a roll of her eyes, she turns around and kneels down to pick up her notebook and pen to carefully return them to their respective spots. She uses the time to control her breathing as she places them just so, down to the millimeter it seems. After a final adjustment, she perches on her bed, arms crossed.

"Do you know what I've been through?" she asks sardonically, matching the tone of her previous statement. It's probably obvious by now that, aside from the totally involuntary hug, she's not going to offer any politeness or hospitality. He could keep standing for all she cared. Not that she left enough space on her bed for him or anything. Which he should, you know, use.

Her head turns away, face hidden behind a curtain of hair. "You weren't there when I woke up." Her voice is sad, jittery, hinting at the extreme volatility of her emotions. "I needed you."

post gameshow, pre fight-night

[handsomefoil]

Henry woke up somehow. He had managed not to die and for some reason that makes him feel worse. Then again, he could've died for all he knows and simply returned, but he gets the feeling that's not the case here.

Getting up and walking was difficult to manage. Hell, just getting up took him nearly 10 minutes to do with all the throbbing of his wounds and the pounding headache. It feels like someone stabbing him in the back of the head. All the blood had dried and stuck fast to his clothes, so every shift is just more pain. The knife wound in particular is a nasty one, deep and twisted, easily breaking again and bleeding some more.

He doesn't really get that far, only making it outside into the hallways. No idea which one. Then he simply slumps against a wall, sliding down until he sits, just trying to catch his breath.

[mysophobe]

Zichen just happens to be in the right place at the right time, with the younger Xingchen. He’s been spending more time with him to get to know him better (though he feels he knows him well as it is). But there are differences between this Xingchen and his own. Slight variances in the way their stories go, but nothing that can’t be overcome. They’re chatting merrily when Zichen catches sight of a figure down the hall.

It only takes a second for him to recognize the familiar figure. Alarm surged through him and he put a hand on Xingchen’s arm, worried that there might still be danger to face. He leans in to whisper softly enough for only cultivator ears to hear, “Henry is wounded.” Steps forward, certain that Xingchen will follow, and finds himself kneeling beside the man he considers his friend.

“Henry? What happened?”

[cantseeyoursin]

Xingchen is enjoying the walk when he feels Zichen's hand on his arm. He immediately tenses, ready for whatever might be going on. But when he hears that name his expression immediately is one of concern. Henry is very dear to him so hear he is injured strikes him hard. He hurries after Zichen, not sensing anything dangerous in the area.

Bending down, he reaches out towards Henry, being careful of any wounds that he might have. Placing his hand lightly on the man's arm he stays quiet, Zichen asking the question that is the most important on his mind at that moment.

[handsomefoil]

Oh, god. Why is this happening? It's not that he dislikes either of these two. Quite the opposite, in fact, which is exactly why he doesn't want to be seen in such a state. On a surface level, he feels incredibly weak and foolish. Dig a littler further below, he'd like to avoid worrying them. Xingchen in particular, as the man tends to express his worries quite openly, he thinks with a secret sort of fondness.

Despite sitting up and breathing, he doesn't seem to have much energy to voice his issues properly. A lot of things had happened and he's on the verge of passing out again. He looks about as bad as he feels, one arm streaked in dried blood while the other side houses a nasty puncture wound in his shoulder, ripped through the cloth of his thin shirt as the fabric sticks to the wound. He's also sporting a shiner or two on his cheek and lump on the side of his head.

"Games," he manages to croaks out, avoiding Zichen's gaze and although he doesn't need to avert them from Xingchen, he avoids looking at him too. "Leave me be."

[mysophobe]

Zichen didn’t press for more details. It’s easy to see Henry’s struggling to remain conscious. An interrogation is not what’s needed at present. As far as he’s concerned, the whys and hows don’t matter. He’s just relieved to learn that someone didn’t attack Henry out of malice— though he’s very concerned about his state. That’s what’s important now.

Song Lan puts two fingers against Henry’s wrist, not only feeling for the strength of his pulse, but trying to ascertain how much of his own spiritual energy will be enough to at least stabilize Henry so they can move him off the floor to somewhere more private and conducive to healing. It pulses like a hum of energy, cool and crisp. It should be enough to help him stay awake while they work.

“You are in need. We cannot turn away.”

sometime post death, pre-TDM probably?

[holeinwall]

[ It's a bit late at night when she sends her message, but she knows he's not the type to care. Just...she's tired of being alone. Suffering in silence. Sure, her world was over, but that didn't mean all of it was. It wouldn't hurt to seek help and comfort when she needed it, right?

All the stuff in the tunnel doesn't matter right now. What matters is having someone who understands her. ]

are you busy?

[ It's probably telling that one, that's all she says, and two, she's not forcing her presence on him and instead giving him a choice, but...not the biggest of deals now. ]

pre-tdm sounds good to me o7

[handsomefoil]

{ While the awkwardness that ensued after the tunnel affair is still fresh in his memory (after recovering from all that Big Top nonsense), he still feels no differently towards Monika. He still does care about her and will almost always do whatever she wants to do as long as there's no conflict of interests.

That, and he'll always carry some measure of guilt towards her for the rest of his not-life. But the text message gives him pause, but only because he's curious about this tone. Feels different. }

Not at all.
Where can I meet you?

perf! <3

[holeinwall]

[ She spends a long time thinking about that question. In so short a time, so many areas in the whole damn place had become tainted for multiple reasons--her room, especially. On top of that, every alternative she thinks of comes with a but. But it was a special place, but something significant happened there, but something horrible happened there...

Wearily, she types a response. ]

can i just come to your room?

[ At least that wasn't ruined. ]

[handsomefoil]

{ Boy is he glad he cleaned the place up a bit. Littered with scraps of plywood, plastic sheets, nails and whatnot, it'd been a bit of a hazardous zone at first. But it's clean(er) now. No dangerous materials on the floor. Maybe a pile of scraps.

Even just through text, she sounds tired. }

Of course
I'll greet you outside the door