keephimtalking (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keephimtalking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-05-15 05:36 am
keephimtalking) wrote in pineslog2017-05-15 05:36 am
Entry tags:
Are you alright?
Who: Aloy, Lantar, birds and anyone!
Where: Forest and behind Weavers
When: May 13th, May 16th
What: Bird watching and poor coping.
Warnings: Psychological problems galore!
[Open and Closed prompts within]
Dissociate - May 16 - OTA
It starts with a quiet flinch.
Early evening leaves pools of deep orange light spilling from the windows, reflecting off of the dark wood of each table, mixing in with the cooler artificial lighting. Lantar stops in the middle of wiping a table down, gaze lost in the shadowy, blurry outline of himself reflecting back from polished wood, unseeing. The sound of drinking and talking fades into a formless din around him.
The moment passes as quickly as it comes.
A few hours past his shift and Lantar is out back near the trash bins, surrounded by broken glass. He doesn’t remember how long he’s been there, only that he’d come down to load some empty bottles into his truck for recycling. Any passersby will see him just standing there, harshly lit by fluorescent light, the shards around him glittering black against the tarmac.
Any passerby will see him yanking another unbroken bottle out from a crate and throwing it into the wall. Into the ground. Against the truck. Over and over, again and again. He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t curse. It’s an eerily silent mania broken only by the crash of shattering glass.
Bird Watching Birds - May 13th - Closed to Aloy
As a general rule, Lantar almost never left his house unless it was for work. He did his grocery shopping while topping up the snacks for the bar. He sometimes dropped in to check up on things after his shift was over. He was usually on call in case customers after wanted to give any of his employees trouble.
His existence outside of the bar was mostly just sleeping. Forcing down food he can’t taste when he can manage it. Drinking if he’s ever up long enough to contemplate his existence, staring out the window into the scraggly, suburban wilderness his yard was becoming. The inside of the house is a mess, but it’s a mess only he has to see, so he lives with it.
But one day, late in the afternoon, he drops by the library after his shift.
And then he sort of... disappears.
Near the edge of a small clearing next to the river, somewhere in the forest, Lantar flicks his omni-tool off after doing a quick scan to make sure there weren’t any cameras in the area. He then pulls out a little green book. Written on it in bold white text was ‘Birds of Idaho: Field Guide’.
Wrapping the dark green tarp tighter around his shoulders, he settles down against the base of a cheerfully budding birch tree and waits.
Wildcard - OTA
((OOC: You can ping me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
zapperkat or PM me if you’d like to do a thing!))
Where: Forest and behind Weavers
When: May 13th, May 16th
What: Bird watching and poor coping.
Warnings: Psychological problems galore!
[Open and Closed prompts within]
Dissociate - May 16 - OTA
It starts with a quiet flinch.
Early evening leaves pools of deep orange light spilling from the windows, reflecting off of the dark wood of each table, mixing in with the cooler artificial lighting. Lantar stops in the middle of wiping a table down, gaze lost in the shadowy, blurry outline of himself reflecting back from polished wood, unseeing. The sound of drinking and talking fades into a formless din around him.
The moment passes as quickly as it comes.
A few hours past his shift and Lantar is out back near the trash bins, surrounded by broken glass. He doesn’t remember how long he’s been there, only that he’d come down to load some empty bottles into his truck for recycling. Any passersby will see him just standing there, harshly lit by fluorescent light, the shards around him glittering black against the tarmac.
Any passerby will see him yanking another unbroken bottle out from a crate and throwing it into the wall. Into the ground. Against the truck. Over and over, again and again. He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t curse. It’s an eerily silent mania broken only by the crash of shattering glass.
Bird Watching Birds - May 13th - Closed to Aloy
As a general rule, Lantar almost never left his house unless it was for work. He did his grocery shopping while topping up the snacks for the bar. He sometimes dropped in to check up on things after his shift was over. He was usually on call in case customers after wanted to give any of his employees trouble.
His existence outside of the bar was mostly just sleeping. Forcing down food he can’t taste when he can manage it. Drinking if he’s ever up long enough to contemplate his existence, staring out the window into the scraggly, suburban wilderness his yard was becoming. The inside of the house is a mess, but it’s a mess only he has to see, so he lives with it.
But one day, late in the afternoon, he drops by the library after his shift.
And then he sort of... disappears.
Near the edge of a small clearing next to the river, somewhere in the forest, Lantar flicks his omni-tool off after doing a quick scan to make sure there weren’t any cameras in the area. He then pulls out a little green book. Written on it in bold white text was ‘Birds of Idaho: Field Guide’.
Wrapping the dark green tarp tighter around his shoulders, he settles down against the base of a cheerfully budding birch tree and waits.
Wildcard - OTA
((OOC: You can ping me at
no subject
"Thank you," for worrying. The glass won't be able to cut me though. He thinks, which would still be audible to Lantar. "Bad day?"