![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.
But first, you need to find a ride.
No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
- Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
- Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
- Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
- Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
- Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
Fluxdrift
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Throughout May
You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.
Then you open your eyes.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.
You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.
Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.
As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.
Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.
The Blocks: Power Outage
Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.
What do you do? You have three choices:
What do you do? You have three choices:
- Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
- Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
- Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall
The Fringes
Quad 3: Lockdown
Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads
Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57
> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.
Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.
Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.
A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.
Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.
Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.
- To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
- The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
- With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
- If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.
B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.
- The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
- Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
- You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
- Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
Top
no subject
she might also be very tired and maybe a little hungry, too.
(the fact that they got the bike up and inside the van without having to resort to anything but just using their strength in tandem, no need for powers or super strength feels insanely refreshing to her.)
he goes above and beyond, though, climbing up to strap the bike securely in place. wanda, for her part, sits down on the edge of the van's floor, kicking at a few pebbles with her shitty shoes while he works on making sure things are sorted properly. though she eyes him a little warily, it's clear from her body language that she is becoming a little more open to him and the idea of conversing. )
I take it I want to avoid needing Yom's rust-bucket rescue crew's help.
( now that she's given him more than a mono-syllabic answer, her eastern european accent is noticeable. perhaps he won't even be able to pinpoint it, but she knows he is american, from the way he talks, even if she doesn't know from which state, exactly, based on his accent alone.
'speed racer' wouldn't be a bad name if she wanted to go underground, maybe. she huffs at the mention of nearly taking out his side mirror, looking away, out into the distance, for a moment.
she does come back with: )
Wanda.
( —and turns to him again, one hand smoothing down at her thigh, getting rid of some grime from handling the bike. )
... thanks for this.
no subject
Wanda. A’ight. Don't think I've met a Wanda before. Knew a Wendy back home, though. And yeah, don't wanna end up in more debt, right? Those guys charge for everything.
[ He hops down from the back with a soft grunt, the van’s suspension creaking behind him as it adjusts. His hoodie’s riding up at the hem, and he tugs it down with one hand before reaching for the van door. He doesn’t close it yet, just rests his hand there for a second, considering her thanks. The breeze kicks up dust. There’s a little silence, but not the bad kind. He meets her eyes. ]
Yeah, sure. No biggie. [ Jesse shrugs casually, like this is just something you do; help someone who looks like they’ve hit the same kind of wall you’ve been slammed into too many times to count. ] People act like kindness costs ‘em something. Me? I figure if someone’s already bleeding, you don’t gotta twist the knife.
[ His tone isn’t preachy. It’s raw honesty, worn loose like everything else he wears. He waits for Wanda to hop down before he closes the doors one at a time, slapping the door for good measure, like that does something. He walks back around to the driver's side and climbs in again, settling and waiting for her to follow suit so they can hit the road. ]
no subject
thank god for that.
wanda watches him moving about, and ultimately stands again when he's all ready to close the van. in the meantime, she lingers on his words, how kindness doesn't cost him a thing, and when he walks back to the driver's side, she takes a deep breath—and exhales. it's... oddly comforting.
she hasn't even admitted to anything about herself other than her name, and he's not demanding answers, doesn't seem to expect anything, but maybe some company for the haul to the city. )
You — didn't tell me your name.
( is that she says, pausing as she climbs up on the other side of the van. she reaches for the seatbelt, but find it hanging loose. hopefully he's pretty okay at driving? )
Is it... 'David'?
( look! she's trying at a bit of humor, but nothing will beat 'speed racer'. classic. she frowns at how bad that was, looking out the window to spare herself the embarrassment. )
no subject
David. [ He echoes, incredulous, shooting her a sidelong glance. ] Yo, no offense, but do I look like a David? [ His mouth twists like he’s trying not to smile but doesn’t quite win the fight. There's a glint in his eye now, a flicker of warmth not unlike how sunlight filters through a cracked windshield. Crooked, but still gold. ]
Nah. It's Jesse. Nice to meet you, Wanda.
[ He holds a hand out to shake if Wanda wants, a Borneo scorpion tattoo snaking up the back of his hand and disappearing beneath the cuff of his hoodie. He leans forward slightly, twisting the key. The engine stutters, then grumbles awake with a noise that sounds more complaint than power. But it holds. He taps the dash once with something like affection. ]
She’s got personality, alright.
[ Jesse shifts into gear. Gravel crunches under the tires as the van pulls out from the makeshift lot and into the dust-choked stretch of road ahead. ]
So, you hear anything about this city we're heading to?
no subject
he extends his hand for a shake and wanda reaches for it, noticing the tattoo, and feeling a little self-conscious of the burn mark around her own wrist. )
You seem more of a Miloš, actually, but — Jesse is a nice name.
( she's never met a jesse before. drawing her hand back, she watches with curiosity as he starts the engine of the van, not because it's a new concept to her, but because wanda hopes it works just fine and isn't just some junk that yom crook gave away knowing it wouldn't work right. so far, though, it seems to be going underway just fine, even if it stutters a little.
wanda looks out the window, back to where she had woken up at, and draws out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.
it's a bit of a relief — getting to move forward. )
Not much.
( she shifts her attention back to the road, towards him. she glances at the compass on the car. )
Just that it's north-east.
no subject
Miloš? Yo, that’s a new one. I don’t even know what kinda name that is. Is that like...a nickname, or... [ He pauses, eyes flicking back to the road before glancing over again. There’s no edge in his voice; just curiosity, warm and open, like he’s genuinely interested in what kind of place she came from. ] That common where you’re from? Where are you from, anyway?
[ He doesn’t push. Doesn’t prod. It’s just a thread left dangling, something she can pick up or leave alone. He’s good either way. The fact that she’s even talking at all feels like a win, to be honest. And when she’d said she liked his name? Jesse is a nice name. Yeah. That stuck with him. It mattered in a way people might not expect. See, for someone like him, a guy whose name mostly shows up on arrest reports and burner phones, having someone say it like that, he’s not used to that. Most of the time it's Mr. White yelling it, making him flinch. A pang hits him in the chest as he wonders where he's at. ]
I'm from Albuquerque. In New Mexico. The States.
[ He clarifies, realizing there are people from all over here. ]
i love jesse so much, he's so good!!
It's a name. Don't ask me what it means, I don't really know, but I knew a Miloš once. He was bright. ( —past tense— ) He and my brother made stupid jokes all that time. Actually funny ones, so...
( she loses a little steam as she continues, making a mention of a brother, and that seems to deflate her for a bit. wanda grapples with the ache in her chest, the incoming panic that threatens to seize her again, the kind that makes breathing difficult. sound becomes a ring in her ears. her hands lock stiffly into fists at her sides, and she leans back further onto the seat, closing her eyes for a moment, because he's asking a lot now, and even if he means well, it adds up to the right now and how much she's lost—
i'm from albuquerque.
to her, someone who hasn't heard of that place before, it's a beautiful sound. wanda takes a breath and the world becomes a little more stable despite herself. )
I was in America before coming here. ( she shrugs her arms a touch, to make show of her prison uniform, which she is certain is an incredibly noticeable brand on herself. her time there did not go very well ) I have never been to — Albu... Albuker-key? ( she's trying! and in trying, she offers him an answer. ) My home is Sokovia. In Europe.
( and jesse, throughout all this, has been so patient, so honest, warm. wanda isn't so cold-hearted that she isn't able to offer a little bit more of that herself, in return. )
Sorry. I — feel a little sick. ( then quickly adds, ) Not throw-up sick. You don't have to stop driving. The breeze is nice.
gah thank you so much :') wanda is lovely
He doesn’t push. He just lets the moment settle, and lets the silence bloom for a beat like he’s giving it space to breathe. But when she closes her eyes and sinks back into the seat like the world’s pressing too close, he knows that look too well. He's seen it in his own reflection more times than he can count.
And then Wanda says she's sorry. Says she feels sick. Not the kind that makes you puke, but the kind that locks your chest and makes the sky feel too close. Jesse doesn’t glance at her again right away. He just adjusts his grip on the wheel, keeps his eyes on the road, and his voice comes soft. Measured. Like he’s offering her a hand without touching her. Not wanting to spook her. ]
Hey. You don’t gotta be sorry. That feeling? Happens to me, too. All the time.
[ There's a beat, a pause as the van hums beneath them and he considers whether or not to share a piece of advice. He doesn't want to come off as patronizing, but he also wishes someone had been there to tell him, instead of him having to look up YouTube videos after waking up drenched with sweat, unable to breathe. ]
When it gets bad, sometimes I do this breathing thing that helps. Not a fix, just...slows stuff down. Like, count four seconds in, hold it for seven, then out for eight. I know it sounds kinda dumb, but it helps when my chest starts gettin’ tight. Keeps my hands from shaking too much.
[ Jesse’s voice is low, even. Not embarrassed. Just honest. The kind of honesty you offer someone when you know how much it costs to keep it all inside. He taps a slow rhythm against the steering wheel as he counts, just once, like a quiet demonstration. ]
Anyway, you don’t gotta talk about Sokovia, or America, or anything else if you don’t wanna. Not your job to explain yourself to me.
[ Jesse lets that hang for a second before reaching toward the van’s busted old radio. The dial squeals, static buzzing through the speakers before he finds something halfway coherent. It's some kind of weird jazz fusion, too fast to be relaxing, too offbeat to be annoying. He turns it down a little, gesturing to the knob as he subtly tries to change the subject. ]
You like music? I dunno what kinda stations they got around here, but maybe you can find something you like...
no subject
ever since the raft, the days she spent there, she had no such commodities. it was just the silence, an oppressive feeling, and her thoughts demanding attention.
it's no surprise at all that her chest seizes painfully, triggered by a thought of her brother and a friend they used to have, both robbed of their lives, cut way too short. it's not the first time this has happened, but it's the first time she isn't alone for it. so, she listens. understand this isn't a unique experience to her. learns—takes a deep breath, follows his count. when he stops counting, she continues regardless, and in her final deep exhale, a quiet sob escapes her.
because of relief.
this feeling doesn't last forever, and she can ease out of it so painlessly. who knew?
jesse is kind, though, and the fact that he keeps talking helps her a lot, to focus on that instead of how pathetic she feels. he gives her outs, and wanda is so miserably grateful for it, even as he works to change the subject. )
I — played the piano and guitar a little. ( childhood things, encouraged by her mother. she catches his gesture, but leaves it to what he's found. ) I like this one.
( the weird jazz fusion.
they listen to it in silence for a moment, until wanda glances over at him, hands balled into fists, grabbing at the wrinkling of her pants. )
...thank you. I didn't know I could... fix it on my own.
( the panic attacks. looks like he wouldn't have been the only one getting instructions off of youtube. )
no subject
Yeah. I didn’t know either. First time it hit, I thought I was dying. No exaggeration, I seriously thought I was, like, having a heart attack or something. Y'know, chest all locked up, couldn’t breathe, hands were shaking so bad I dropped my keys. I was in a parking lot, just sittin’ there, spiraling hard, and it felt like my whole fuckin' brain turned against me.
[ He absently taps the wheel with his fingertips, a rhythm that doesn't belong to the music but maybe once belonged to him. ]
I didn’t tell anybody. Just went home and looked it up online. Like...'hey Google, why does it feel like I'm dying?’ Got a million answers. Panic attack was one of ‘em.
[ His mouth quirks, not quite a smile. More like a grim understanding. ]
Anyway. All that to say, uh, you can’t really fix it. Not totally. It comes back, sometimes. Sneaks up on you when you're just tryna live. But that breathing thing helps. Grounding, too. Like, name five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear; that kinda thing. Sounds dumb but it slows it down. Keeps you, like, I dunno, tethered.
[ He glances out the windshield, watching the horizon shimmer in the heat. the road stretches out like it’s daring them to keep going. He thinks about telling Wanda more; about the times the weight cracked him wide open, the names he doesn’t say out loud anymore. Jane. Combo. His aunt Ginny. People he lost, pieces of himself he’ll never get back. But that kind of grief? That stays inside for now. You don’t hand that over to someone who’s still learning how to breathe again. Instead, he reminisces aloud, goes back to the topic of music: ]
I used to play drums. Me and some friends had this band. It was mostly just noise in a garage, but we thought we had somethin' to say.
[ He chuckles under his breath, small and fond. How times have changed. ]
no subject
she doesn't say anything about how she meant fixing it as a temporary thing, though appreciates the knowledge that it will come back, despite this, but now she just has more control for when it does happen.
his advice feels generous, too, about counting the things around her. which is why she says, in lieu of another 'thanks', )
It doesn't sound dumb.
( but she quiets down too, when he does, when she senses his thoughts straying towards something far away, of people he remembers but doesn't say the names for. jesse is... surprisingly easy to read, she notices, without putting up any walls; why should he expect the person to be sitting next to him to be able to read his mind, anyway?
it's something she stores away, grateful that despite his own pain, he is here, helping her out, a total stranger.
he chuckles, plays it cool.
wanda presses onto this thought, a little nervously, but hoping it lands well. she isn't used to knowing what to say in friendly scenarios, or knowing what exactly would sound like something welcome instead of being presumptuous. so, here goes— )
Maybe we can start a band of our own.
no subject
It lands light, like a breeze through an open window you didn't realize you needed. He turns his head just enough to catch the edge of her profile in the waning light bleeding through the windshield. Like he's trying to read her to see if she was serious or joking, not wanting to get his hopes up. ]
You saying that 'cause you liked my drumming resume, or 'cause you wanna hear me butcher vocals too?
[ He smiles sideways at her, teasing, something loose and honest shining through, like a boy pulling himself out of the wreckage for one bright second. The name Wanda hums in his chest now, attached to something good. ]
We'll need a name, y'know. Can't start a band without a name. Gotta think of a good one.
[ He drums his fingers on the wheel again, just to keep the rhythm going. Then, quieter, just to make sure, with all the insecurity of someone whose been let down enough times to carry suspicion everywhere in his pocket: ]
You're, uh, you're serious, right? 'Cause I'm in if you are...
no subject
and yet, jesse sounds as serious and nervous as wanda had, offering it up at all.
this much does earn him a quiet laugh from her, as she covers her mouth with her hand and looks outside, not wanting to be perceived as rude. wanda really isn't laughing at him! )
Bands can just be drums and another instrument, you know.
( when she turns to look at him, she's smiling, earnest. )
It's not like I can promise I will be good still at the piano or the guitar. Or that we'll even find music instruments in Panorama.
( it seems easier, now, like a weight's been lifted off her chest. and that's just the thing with her grief, she's found, that some days she is exceptionally well, and other times it just hits her out of nowhere, knocking her down to her knees. right now feels like one of the former moments, when she's okay—when it feels like things will be okay, even if nothing's changed at all. she turns to him now, a bit, not wanting to distract him from driving.
a shake of her head. )
I wasn't serious when I suggested it, but — I might be now that I know you're into it.
( she, too, was worried he'd think it was lame. figures. )