idolpro | Heart Game: Hurricane

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Heart Game: Hurricane - Run 4

[At first, all is still; all is silent.]

[The only light is the light from your phone, where a checklist has taken over the screen. It reads:]

___ Make a change
___ Repair something
___ Protect something
___ Find the True Heart
___ Survive

[Then the light comes up, bright, and then brighter, and you are in…]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hmm.

She'll finish up the rest of the rice and dump the bowl in the sink before completing the dumpster diving expedition, nabbing the model and the music; what's up with this?]

[The model is a clumsy copy of something that's on the schematics on the table.]

[The music doesn't have a title; it just looks like a page of sheet music someone printed off the internet, but it's all crumpled up.]

[The model can stay; she'll pose it with the feather.

She'll smooth out the sheet music; is it piano, percussion, vocals...?]

[If you can read it enough to tell (you can barely read it enough to tell; why did you ever think you could do this?), it seems to be piano music.]

[Right... She runs the paper against the counter edge enough to uncrumple it a bit and leaves it with the rest.

Finally takes the pen and begins writing some...huh, this is tougher than she'd thought.

Off-hand, louder]

So, what're you even here for?

[There's no reply; Dr. Cross doesn't look up from her work.]

[Walks over, and pleasantly sweeps everything on the table to the floor with a crash]

Just 'cause, even the asshole cultist serves a purpose. But what do you actually do?

[That gets her attention; she looks up, brow creased in a frown.]

I design the tech that keeps things from falling apart around here, when he inevitably messes things up again.

Pretty sure you aren't doing anything to help with any problems around here. 'Cept maybe making 'em worse. Maybe it's time for you to take a vacation, or an extended sabbatical.

Or maybe it's time for you to leave.

In case you didn't notice, the whole sky just came down again because of his bullshit. There's a lot of work to do.

In case you didn't notice, it didn't, 'cause we fixed it--'cause me and his friends and people who actually care about him made sure the important stuff was safe. While you were...

[She gestures at the air, apparently where she had been?]

Either way, pretty sure between Yoshioka and Intensity nerd work's pretty spoken for, so you can go.

The shielding on your suit? That was mine. The mag-lev tech that got you in the air? That was mine, too.

If he'd had it together for once in his life, you wouldn't have been out their fighting for yours, and you're going to sit here making excuses for him?

Yes. Protecting my important things is my job--it's my choice. If you ain't willing to do it--if you ain't happy to do it, then you ain't helping, and you should go.

I'm here for a reason, the same as everything else.

I'm a part of him - a symbol, like that paper on the counter or the rice you ate. If he's so important to you, are you really sure you want to be telling parts of him to get out of the places where they live?

I don't think you wanna know what all I want to do. And even hiding out here like the rat you are, I'm pretty sure you know what I already been willing to do, so--

[There's a splintering sound; the pen casing caught in her clenched fist, and for the first time Nemesis notices how offensive her stance is, shoulders and chin low, body squared.

[She takes a breath, forces herself to straighten up, drops the somewhat crushed pen. Attempts another smile, though it in no way has anything approaching pleasure]

...You been putting in a lot of overtime, haven't you? So why don't you take some hours off? Have a date with your buddies Hendricks and Tanqueray.

[Flatly:]

No.

My work is too important to just take off whenever I want to and go on some wild joy ride. I'm not like he is.

That’s an understatement. I don’t even know how somebody like him coulda come from something like you.

I ask myself that all the time.

[Snorts, dismissive, and turns back to the notebook. If she’s careful the pen should still write, at least. She taps the ballpoint against the paper before scratching down a few more words]

[Dr. Cross bends to start picking up her schematics.]

[The pen does indeed still write.]

[What does she add to the notebook?]

[She ignores Dr. Cross, too engrossed in her work!!! ...Actually, she ends up writing quite a bit.]

hey ~~hurricane~~ ~~cross~~ 'sup
good news i didnt throw your tv or your mom out the window (yet)
but i did see these things what must of fell in the trash can by mistake
i guess the point of this room is to be yelled at so: don't give up on stuff so easy!!!
how are you sposed to GET GUD if you don't actually spend time doin the thing
also if you enjoy the thing who cares if your good at it
being creative and wellrounded and stuff is important and also enjoyying yourself is important
trying new things is important and having fun is important
and oh right...YOU are important!
so don't forget
fuck the haters they are just jealous because you are loved and their just sad and alone and wrinkly and gross and dont deserve the time or energy you give them like honestly
I GUESS shes right about 1 thing
you wouldnt be you if you didnt' care about even dumb people but maybe think about caring about yourself more coz your kinda awesome believe it or not and I█████woops ok shit i wrote too many things while trying not to bust up your kitchen coz the points not to steal all your pages so now im out of space but dude Honestly! Don't spend so much time in here, go touch some grass or chill with somebody or make some models or cook a food for somebody who appreciate it i can think of at least 1 or just. Go be happy you deserve it more than anybody ok

[The words get a little too cramped to read after that; the attempt to write three lines in one not working with the size of the ballpoint. Hopefully he can get the intent. (On the side, cramped, in the margin:)]

PS:believe it

[Dr. Cross does not look up. Having retrieved her schematics, she has returned to her work]

[It is as though nothing has changed]

[Except]

[Perhaps]

[There is an odd shift in the air, a lightening in the oppressive sense of having done something wrong that lays over this room like a shroud. When you take your next breath in, it comes easier, as though something pressing down on your chest doesn't weigh quite so much, anymore]

[Ah.

Nemesis bows her head, shoulders unknotting just a little. Then--back to business, there's certainly places she'd rather be than here. The notebook is set on top of the sheet of music and under the model; the feather tucked into a pocket. She makes another sweep of the room for anything she's missed, actively avoiding looking towards Dr. Cross the whole time, which doesn't necessarily make for good investigations but hey]

[There doesn't seem to be anything else apart from Dr. Cross' work.]

Edited 2020-02-25 08:15 (UTC)

Heart Game: Hurricane - Run 4

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