[ It took a couple of hours to find something appropriate, but it isn't as though they are short on time. Anything that keeps one from going insane from boredom is a gift, really.
With her bag set on the stool next to her, Vanessa will cross her legs and drape an arm over the counter's edge before picking up her glass to wet her lips. ]
[ She props her elbows on the counter, picking up her glass, clinking her new ring on the side of it. Her gaze lands on the middle distance as she considers how to phrase what she's been thinking about. Most of it isn't terribly coherent yet, is the problem. ]
I was talking to a friend about ... the way this place keeps hauling out our secrets. It's not just making us look at ourselves, it's creating situations where we have to show parts of ourselves to others. [ Her eyes flick over to Vanessa. ] That seem right to you?
[ A pale fingertip traces the rim of her glass, not quite touching, while she slowly nods with a lowered gaze. ]
Such manipulations can encourage paranoia and displace the only confidence people may have in themselves; control over their own secrets. Once those are on display, nothing looks the same.
[ Possibly spoken with a little too much confidence there. ]
It is a house of mirrors.
[ With a little tip of her glass in Johanna's direction, Vanessa takes a drink that leaves it near empty. ]
[ Muttered: ] Never cared for those much. Always felt like there was something spooky in those infinite ones, where they're reflecting each other.
[ She doesn't know for certain whether there's a magical power to the way those sorts of mirrors create hallways, but she'd bet a few pounds that there is. Picking up the bottle, she offers to refill Vanessa's glass. ]
So is the point to make us paranoid, or is it to, I don't know, get us past that? Like some kind of fucked up exposure therapy.
[ The commentary on mirrors garners no visible reaction, but she keeps it noted for later while pushing her glass closer to Johanna with her fingertips. Vanessa hates mirrors just as much as she has loved them. Not even those can be simple for her. ]
Exposure therapy?
[ 'Therapy' is a word that she also notes, and though again she remains unmoved in appearance, there is a subtle edge to how the word is uttered. Not a murmur, but a rasp. Her unblinking stare is on Johanna now. ]
It's this ... It's a treatment for things like phobias, irrational fears. Say you're scared of snakes. The therapist shows you a picture of a snake so you can get used to it, train yourself not to be afraid of it. Then they show you a video, then a real snake in a cage across the room, then you get closer ...
[ She waves a hand. ] Et cetera et cetera. Make you face your fears, basically.
[ With arms folded, she continues to stare throughout the explanation, with a twitch of a squint when Johanna mentions a 'snake in a cage'. Well, she understands that some 'therapy' has possibly helped...some people, when not run by mad scientists. But everything she had known was nothing less than torture, and this sounds dangerously borderline.
Cruel. Vile. The hate is too deep in her eyes to likely notice from a distance, but Vanessa can taste it like copper, like acid, and it's with a glance down that she will lift her glass for a slow sip to wash away the taste of venom.
With the bitterness swallowed, vanished, she'll give a bit of a shrug and look back up. ]
There is no way one can move forward in life without facing one's fears. Only, who is to say some here were not doing exactly that when they were taken?
[ Her arm drapes back across the other. ]
Neither can I imagine that anyone capable of so much cruelty would care about 'bettering' us. I would think it the opposite, if anything. There are many ways to sow chaos.
Edited (the world can handle only so many vanessas) 2023-11-13 03:46 (UTC)
[ For what it's worth, Constantine's tone while giving this description is decidedly neutral. It wasn't part of her regimen at Ravenscar; no doctor would have tried to expose her to demons or Hell, after all, since no doctor believed they existed. ]
I'm sure some people were. And I'm sure it's not anybody's business but our own if we were or weren't.
[ She speaks softly while her fingertip once more circles the rim of the glass in a slow caress, only not quite touching. ]
Traumatic events can create a closeness among those who have nowhere else to go. With secrets so unveiled, that closeness can become a necessity. You do not want them. You need them. They have too much of you to ever risk losing. There will be friends. Lovers. Families. Contentment may dare to hover within arm's reach.
[ A sudden flick of her fingernail against the rim brings a weighted clink with an abrupt end—no sweet ringing to soothe the sharpness—while she continues with the softest musing. ]
Then, there is nowhere to go but down. Then, we have everything to lose. Our puppetmaster knows this. Do you think the games, the experiments will then become gentler, Constantine?
[ In the dim emptiness of the restaurant, the absolute quietude of the street outside, Vanessa's words fall with the flatness of dust, the kind left behind on photos you don't dare to look at anymore. They have too much of you to ever risk losing.
Not if you resign yourself to the loss beforehand, of course. Or if you make sure they lose you, and not the other way around.
And if even that option is taken away, then what? ]
Too many people have been getting comfortable here, and it's going to be their downfall. What does that make Vanessa now? Comfortable isn't the word, at least. Small, tragic blessings. ]
Have you considered the possibility that this isn't the first time we have had this conversation?
Me too. But I remembered him being here. If neither of us remember having this conversation, then we've been here the whole time. Or ...
[ She trails off, thinking through the implications. ]
There did used to be people here, [ she continue after a moment, slowly, like she's working out a math problem. ] Or they want us to think so. The university had those notes on past studies. That'd be a weird thing to fabricate just for us.
Do you think we could have been here before? All of us?
[ Her stare remains unmoved until Johanna begins to pose a question, to which she pulls an elegant fountain pen and small white notebook out to begin writing something down. ]
Does this mean anything to you?
[ It's flipped and pushed across the counter enough to read this in elegant (read: swoopy) handwriting, ITERATION 4█ with the spot next to the 4 intentionally blacked out. ]
[ She'll pull the notebook back, writing something else down while she speaks. ]
You are an exorcist. [ Not a question. ] Your familiarity with the occult is going to prove to your benefit, I think, but only so far as you are willing to take it.
[ Flipping the notebook back around, she'll slide it over again for Johanna to read, LOOK BEHIND THE APOCALYPSES. ]
When you see this phrase, what do you think of? What does it read as?
[ Constantine frowns, mildly offended by the implication that she wouldn't take her occult skills as far as she bloody well wants to, thank you. It might just look like she's focusing, though, as she draws the notebook closer to read the words a few times. ]
An apocalypse is an unveiling. A revelation. [ She drums her fingers on the countertop. ] Is the Wizard of Oz a thing for you yet?
[ Oh. She shakes her head while taking back her notebook. Sounds a bit similar to Alice and her adventures in Wonderland, but considerably more violent.
She can already see a mild connection to the city, but clearly, there's more to it. ]
I am afraid not. You are arriving at your point, I assume.
It's just a thought. At the end they find out the wizard isn't a wizard at all, he's just a guy from Earth who's puppeteering things from behind a curtain. [ She puts on a stentorian tone. ] "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!"
He gives all the characters the gifts they've been wanting, courage and brains and a heart, but it's sort of like, "oh, you've had it all along, this is just a talisman of it." [ A thoughtful moue. ] Which is trite, but it's not unlike magic.
[ The summary garners a bit of a squint while she listens, back to writing again. ]
These messages, among others, were scratched into seemingly random walls and furniture—on the floor just beneath the Halloween celebration that our puppetmaster summoned so many of us to attend.
[ Some people more forcefully than others. ]
The one capable of this level of entrapment is no man or woman. Somehow, they are exercising power greater than a god's.
[ Why does that sound so familiar? No, she knows. She knows.
The pen pauses, and her head tilts a little while she stares at the messages with an uncomfortable lump in her throat. Vanessa continues with a sharper edge to her rasp. ]
I assure you that evil is behind this, and nothing less.
Shit. I missed them. [ Too busy running, probably.
Johanna is already shaking her head as Vanessa makes that last pronouncement, though. ]
"Evil" and "man" aren't mutually exclusive. Not by a long shot. If you're thinking whoever is doing this must be more powerful than a god because they've bound god-like entities here, that doesn't rule out that they're human for a second.
[ The slightest upturned quirk to her lips. Just a twitch, though, blink and you miss. ]
I am somewhat familiar with evil and its manifestations.
[ She finally looks up, pen still poised. No smile now, and there is a drift to how she speaks. From experience. ]
But there is a price for that sort of evil. When someone is willing to go so far as to wield the power of a god or devil, to reach beyond the shadows of their own realm and into something darker, there is one day a line crossed where their humanity is sacrificed for something else.
[ Recalling Johanna's commentary on mirrors, now. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ It took a couple of hours to find something appropriate, but it isn't as though they are short on time. Anything that keeps one from going insane from boredom is a gift, really.
With her bag set on the stool next to her, Vanessa will cross her legs and drape an arm over the counter's edge before picking up her glass to wet her lips. ]
You mentioned that you had some questions?
no subject
[ She props her elbows on the counter, picking up her glass, clinking her new ring on the side of it. Her gaze lands on the middle distance as she considers how to phrase what she's been thinking about. Most of it isn't terribly coherent yet, is the problem. ]
I was talking to a friend about ... the way this place keeps hauling out our secrets. It's not just making us look at ourselves, it's creating situations where we have to show parts of ourselves to others. [ Her eyes flick over to Vanessa. ] That seem right to you?
no subject
Such manipulations can encourage paranoia and displace the only confidence people may have in themselves; control over their own secrets. Once those are on display, nothing looks the same.
[ Possibly spoken with a little too much confidence there. ]
It is a house of mirrors.
[ With a little tip of her glass in Johanna's direction, Vanessa takes a drink that leaves it near empty. ]
no subject
[ She doesn't know for certain whether there's a magical power to the way those sorts of mirrors create hallways, but she'd bet a few pounds that there is. Picking up the bottle, she offers to refill Vanessa's glass. ]
So is the point to make us paranoid, or is it to, I don't know, get us past that? Like some kind of fucked up exposure therapy.
no subject
Exposure therapy?
[ 'Therapy' is a word that she also notes, and though again she remains unmoved in appearance, there is a subtle edge to how the word is uttered. Not a murmur, but a rasp. Her unblinking stare is on Johanna now. ]
no subject
[ She waves a hand. ] Et cetera et cetera. Make you face your fears, basically.
no subject
Cruel. Vile. The hate is too deep in her eyes to likely notice from a distance, but Vanessa can taste it like copper, like acid, and it's with a glance down that she will lift her glass for a slow sip to wash away the taste of venom.
With the bitterness swallowed, vanished, she'll give a bit of a shrug and look back up. ]
There is no way one can move forward in life without facing one's fears. Only, who is to say some here were not doing exactly that when they were taken?
[ Her arm drapes back across the other. ]
Neither can I imagine that anyone capable of so much cruelty would care about 'bettering' us. I would think it the opposite, if anything. There are many ways to sow chaos.
no subject
I'm sure some people were. And I'm sure it's not anybody's business but our own if we were or weren't.
[ She swirls her glass moodily. ]
You think they're trying to worsen us?
no subject
Traumatic events can create a closeness among those who have nowhere else to go. With secrets so unveiled, that closeness can become a necessity. You do not want them. You need them. They have too much of you to ever risk losing. There will be friends. Lovers. Families. Contentment may dare to hover within arm's reach.
[ A sudden flick of her fingernail against the rim brings a weighted clink with an abrupt end—no sweet ringing to soothe the sharpness—while she continues with the softest musing. ]
Then, there is nowhere to go but down. Then, we have everything to lose. Our puppetmaster knows this. Do you think the games, the experiments will then become gentler, Constantine?
no subject
Not if you resign yourself to the loss beforehand, of course. Or if you make sure they lose you, and not the other way around.
And if even that option is taken away, then what? ]
No. [ Soft, and grim. ] Of course I don't.
no subject
Too many people have been getting comfortable here, and it's going to be their downfall. What does that make Vanessa now? Comfortable isn't the word, at least. Small, tragic blessings. ]
Have you considered the possibility that this isn't the first time we have had this conversation?
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[ It definitely has not occurred to her. ]
Like we've had it before and forgotten it?
no subject
It has happened already. I know of one being who has been here at least once before, only to not remember anything of the sort.
no subject
[ She trails off, thinking through the implications. ]
There did used to be people here, [ she continue after a moment, slowly, like she's working out a math problem. ] Or they want us to think so. The university had those notes on past studies. That'd be a weird thing to fabricate just for us.
Do you think we could have been here before? All of us?
no subject
Does this mean anything to you?
[ It's flipped and pushed across the counter enough to read this in elegant (read: swoopy) handwriting, ITERATION 4█ with the spot next to the 4 intentionally blacked out. ]
no subject
no subject
[ She'll pull the notebook back, writing something else down while she speaks. ]
You are an exorcist. [ Not a question. ] Your familiarity with the occult is going to prove to your benefit, I think, but only so far as you are willing to take it.
[ Flipping the notebook back around, she'll slide it over again for Johanna to read, LOOK BEHIND THE APOCALYPSES. ]
When you see this phrase, what do you think of? What does it read as?
no subject
An apocalypse is an unveiling. A revelation. [ She drums her fingers on the countertop. ] Is the Wizard of Oz a thing for you yet?
no subject
Sorry?
no subject
[ Cyclone, Jo, it's a cyclone. ]
no subject
She can already see a mild connection to the city, but clearly, there's more to it. ]
I am afraid not. You are arriving at your point, I assume.
no subject
He gives all the characters the gifts they've been wanting, courage and brains and a heart, but it's sort of like, "oh, you've had it all along, this is just a talisman of it." [ A thoughtful moue. ] Which is trite, but it's not unlike magic.
Was this graffiti, somewhere?
no subject
These messages, among others, were scratched into seemingly random walls and furniture—on the floor just beneath the Halloween celebration that our puppetmaster summoned so many of us to attend.
[ Some people more forcefully than others. ]
The one capable of this level of entrapment is no man or woman. Somehow, they are exercising power greater than a god's.
[ Why does that sound so familiar? No, she knows. She knows.
The pen pauses, and her head tilts a little while she stares at the messages with an uncomfortable lump in her throat. Vanessa continues with a sharper edge to her rasp. ]
I assure you that evil is behind this, and nothing less.
no subject
Johanna is already shaking her head as Vanessa makes that last pronouncement, though. ]
"Evil" and "man" aren't mutually exclusive. Not by a long shot. If you're thinking whoever is doing this must be more powerful than a god because they've bound god-like entities here, that doesn't rule out that they're human for a second.
no subject
I am somewhat familiar with evil and its manifestations.
[ She finally looks up, pen still poised. No smile now, and there is a drift to how she speaks. From experience. ]
But there is a price for that sort of evil. When someone is willing to go so far as to wield the power of a god or devil, to reach beyond the shadows of their own realm and into something darker, there is one day a line crossed where their humanity is sacrificed for something else.
[ Recalling Johanna's commentary on mirrors, now. ]
What do you know of witches?
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