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(OPEN) i'm not the way that you found me
Who: Alex Rider and YOU
Where: around town
When: June 11th & June 13th
What: A cat adopts Alex and then Alex accidentally blows up a cop car. Somehow, the cat thing is the weirder part of this week for Alex.
Warnings: PTSD traumas, panic attacks, explosions, accidental self-sedation
[Open]
11th - one day i'm happy and healthy.
[after all of that business in the woods after field day, alex is seriously regretting focusing all of his attention on the hospital rather than the fence he's heard vague mutterings of around town. he's never even seen this fence before and with the way things are looking now that doesn't seem to be something that's going to change for him anytime soon.
(just looking at the woods makes alex remember the helpless feeling from the ninth and if he's honest it terrifies him, and that terror in turn makes him angry. he doesn't like either feeling very much.)
walking around town doesn't really solve any of his problems, but it was something he couldn't really do freely last month thanks to his crutches so it still feels like some sort of small act of rebellion. and somehow, getting his own mental map of the grounds he can access without feeling like he's slowly dying is a... relief. he's been remembering more and more from before the accident lately but it's all been flashes, impressions, moments in time presented without context.
in some ways it feels like he's being given just enough rope to hang himself with.
the cat started following him a few blocks back and alex has been trying his best to ignore it but when it attempts to toddle right on past his ankles while he's waiting at a crosswalk, alex is forced to quickly bend down and scoop it out of the road before it gets run over by an unsuspecting pedestrian in a car.] Stop! What do you think you're doing?
[the cat in his hands stares up at him with big eyes and meows softly and alex is honestly sort of at a loss. none of his recovered memories so far have at all prepared him for what to do with a cat, of all things.]
13th - next i ain't doing so well.
[wayward pines isn't a metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, but it is expansive enough that attempting to traverse the whole of it by foot seems a little sill after awhile when he's got a perfectly serviceable bike sitting in his garage that he's been aching to ride since he first limped home with it from the sheriff's office over a month ago. and he doesn't have a broken ankle to hold him back from doing just that anymore.
the bike pedals like a dream, and for a moment alex allows himself to sink into the innocent pleasure of the experience itself, allows himself to see wayward pines as the beautiful, scenic suburb it wants so desperately to be.
and then he's assaulted by another fracture of a memory; he's on the bike again, but he isn't coasting peacefully along, he's pedaling for his life, he's being chased through a brightly lit city, he's... being shot at? the memory hits him like a physical thing and alex's hands tighten reflexively on the bike's handlebars, the heel of his palm pressing down on a button that he hadn't even noticed until now.
something shoots out of the front of his bike. a cop car parked about ten feet away explodes when that something hits it. the bike falls from alex's suddenly nerveless fingers as he stares at the flaming wreckage in horror. he can't breath, can't think, fishes desperately into his pocket for the asthma inhaler he'd been given over a month ago but hadn't found a use for until now. alex presses the inhaler to his mouth, presses down on the top, breathes deep, and immediately passes out on the ground next to his bike, ten feet away from the burning wreckage of a police car.
so much for keeping a low profile, honestly.]
Where: around town
When: June 11th & June 13th
What: A cat adopts Alex and then Alex accidentally blows up a cop car. Somehow, the cat thing is the weirder part of this week for Alex.
Warnings: PTSD traumas, panic attacks, explosions, accidental self-sedation
[Open]
11th - one day i'm happy and healthy.
[after all of that business in the woods after field day, alex is seriously regretting focusing all of his attention on the hospital rather than the fence he's heard vague mutterings of around town. he's never even seen this fence before and with the way things are looking now that doesn't seem to be something that's going to change for him anytime soon.
(just looking at the woods makes alex remember the helpless feeling from the ninth and if he's honest it terrifies him, and that terror in turn makes him angry. he doesn't like either feeling very much.)
walking around town doesn't really solve any of his problems, but it was something he couldn't really do freely last month thanks to his crutches so it still feels like some sort of small act of rebellion. and somehow, getting his own mental map of the grounds he can access without feeling like he's slowly dying is a... relief. he's been remembering more and more from before the accident lately but it's all been flashes, impressions, moments in time presented without context.
in some ways it feels like he's being given just enough rope to hang himself with.
the cat started following him a few blocks back and alex has been trying his best to ignore it but when it attempts to toddle right on past his ankles while he's waiting at a crosswalk, alex is forced to quickly bend down and scoop it out of the road before it gets run over by an unsuspecting pedestrian in a car.] Stop! What do you think you're doing?
[the cat in his hands stares up at him with big eyes and meows softly and alex is honestly sort of at a loss. none of his recovered memories so far have at all prepared him for what to do with a cat, of all things.]
13th - next i ain't doing so well.
[wayward pines isn't a metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, but it is expansive enough that attempting to traverse the whole of it by foot seems a little sill after awhile when he's got a perfectly serviceable bike sitting in his garage that he's been aching to ride since he first limped home with it from the sheriff's office over a month ago. and he doesn't have a broken ankle to hold him back from doing just that anymore.
the bike pedals like a dream, and for a moment alex allows himself to sink into the innocent pleasure of the experience itself, allows himself to see wayward pines as the beautiful, scenic suburb it wants so desperately to be.
and then he's assaulted by another fracture of a memory; he's on the bike again, but he isn't coasting peacefully along, he's pedaling for his life, he's being chased through a brightly lit city, he's... being shot at? the memory hits him like a physical thing and alex's hands tighten reflexively on the bike's handlebars, the heel of his palm pressing down on a button that he hadn't even noticed until now.
something shoots out of the front of his bike. a cop car parked about ten feet away explodes when that something hits it. the bike falls from alex's suddenly nerveless fingers as he stares at the flaming wreckage in horror. he can't breath, can't think, fishes desperately into his pocket for the asthma inhaler he'd been given over a month ago but hadn't found a use for until now. alex presses the inhaler to his mouth, presses down on the top, breathes deep, and immediately passes out on the ground next to his bike, ten feet away from the burning wreckage of a police car.
so much for keeping a low profile, honestly.]