fandomtownies | Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

Entry tags:

Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

Eleanor was starting to worry. Her memories were shifting; either that, or everyone else's were. Neither was a terribly good sign. One might mean that her ADAM was leaking -- the other, that everyone on this island was slowing going mad.

But she was determined, as she came in to work. Possibly because she carried with her an empty hypodermic needle, just in case her boss appeared and did want her help.

Groovy Tunes was open, though it wasn't very music-minded today.

(the hypodermic is please NFB -- antics with it will be marked likewise)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Today wasn't a bad day at all to make his way down to check up on Eleanor, Jono figured. She'd seemed a bit out of sorts yesterday after seeing him, and a conversation with Kenzi just reaffirmed what he'd suspected- that people were expecting to see him in a very different state of being than he was in. Not that he had any memory of a good many things that Dracula had said he'd done (or looked like! Blue?), but when so many people seemed to agree that something was amiss, he had to face reason down and come to the logical conclusion.

Either his memories were wrong, everyone else's memories were wrong, or perhaps everybody was remembering things quite correctly, and somebody or other had been misplaced entirely.

The residents of the island were no strangers to alternate realities by now, after all, and Jonothon was no exception. He remembered being trapped in Umbridge's dungeon, after all. And being sucked away into Silent Hill. And those were simply his experiences while living on Fandom.

He would have been frowning thoughtfully as he made his way into the shop downstairs, if only he was able, with his hands in his pockets and a tiny cat on his heels.

//Eleanor, luv. Afternoon. How's your shift going thus far?//

"Not very well," Eleanor admitted. "I'm fidgety. Something's ... off, lately. Either with me, or with everyone around me, and I can't for the life of me say which."

Of course, this was followed up with the obligatory, "Is that your kitten?"

//She is,// Jono replied, stooping down to pick up Joni, and then carrying her over to the counter. //Joni, say hello.//

Joni's idea of 'hello' mostly involved loud purring. She was always happy when her daddy carried her, no matter what weird shape he was this week or that.

//And you're not the only one who's been wondering,// he added, grudgingly heading back to the other topic. //Apparently I'm the only one around here who thinks this is how I've been for far longer than a week, and on an island like this, it's difficult to tell if that's because I've lost my mind, or everybody else has.//

Eleanor reached her hands out tentatively -- she'd never had a pet before, not that they were all that common in Rapture to begin with, and she wasn't sure exactly how to pet a kitten. Joni seemed perfectly able to pick up the slack in that department, head-butting Eleanor's fingers with an insistent nudge.

"I suppose I'll follow your lead, then," Eleanor laughed, mimicking the gesture. Joni was so soft. It was all she could do not to scoop her up and nuzzle her.

Oh. Right. Important, not-cat discussions. She cleared her throat (but continued petting Joni, lest she feel slighted).

"I ... remember you differently, too," she said, hesitantly. "But my memories can't be trusted. I don't remember Joker's pyjak, though he swears we've been introuced, and I do remember Celia telling me her mother passed away when she was young. The mother she apparently lives with, in New York."

Jonothon would have smiled, if he could. It was always easy to pick out the ones who had little experience with animals. Better still when they took well to them. Joni was good for that. If you had hands, she'd love you forever so long as you were using them to pet her.

//I'm afraid I don't know much about Celia's life, outside of what she's mentioned in class,// Jono shared. //So I can't really compare notes, in that regard. And I... have no idea what a pyjak is. Should I?//

Sure, Skippy had been in class last week. Jono, however, hadn't been.

//As for how you remember me... if the answer is, 'with about half a head left to my name,' then you'd at least be in agreement with most people who have brought the topic up with me in the past... week or so, now. I'm not certain, really, that it's as much a matter of memory as a matter of reality. Reality as I know it says I've been this way for years, whether or not anybody else agrees.//

It was so easy. She brushed her hands along Joni's head, and the length of her back, and Joni purred happily and nuzzled against those fingers. A perfect feedback loop: she must be doing it right, from how the kitten was reacting, so she kept doing that, and the purrs got louder.

Excuse Eleanor while she melted a bit.

She finally roused herself enough to say, "Joker's pet. The weird space monkey that follows him around and chirps and does tricks. Do you remember him having one? He swears he always has. I've never seen it before."

She managed to tear her eyes away from Joni long enough to glance up at him.

"I ... remember you with more of a head, yes," she said. "That's actually reassuring. I thought ... there are other memories inside of me, but they're locked away. I thought it was just me, that perhaps they were leaking."

//It's certainly not just you. I would like to think I'd remember seeing a weird space monkey about.// So, wasn't that good? //I think, it's... less a matter of memories, and more a matter of people themselves. Either the Jonothon you know has been changed, or somehow replaced with me.//

There was a sort of irked note in his voice at that. He had been quite happy right where he was at, thank you. And having to explain himself to everyone all over again, each time he saw someone old for the first time... it was tiring.

//... Other memories, luv?//

"Just a side effect of the ADAM," she explained. "It carries memories in it. Some people have a few leak out, but Little Sisters know how to control it. At least, I thought we did. I was worried that I was slipping, that somehow I was jumbling my memory's with everyone else's."

//I can see how that would be concerning,// Jono offered. //I really can't speak for any incarnation of me that you might know better, but I spent a long, long part of my life unable to tell my own memories from something else completely.//

The joys of brainwashing.

Eleanor was nodding. "I ... saw things that weren't real, once," she said. "Believed things that were just illusions. I'm better, now. I suppose that made me especially nervous about this."

She shuddered, remembering rose petals scattered over elegantly-clad ladies and gentlemen: angels awaiting her kisses. Corpses on the floor.

"Has it done the same to you?"

//I'm not certain if I can say it's quite the same,// Jono replied, at length. //They went digging in my mind. Cut pieces out, hid others, rearranged the rest before putting things in there that didn't belong. They made a puppet of me. This - the damage to my body - is part of the result of trying to break free.//

The name 'Neverland' still made him feel ill.

Edited 2014-03-14 21:15 (UTC)

Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself. "A puppet," she said. "That's what I was, for them. And then a prisoner. I ... fought my way out of there. It wasn't very pretty."

That was a polite way of indicating the number of bodies she'd left on the ground.

//The aftermath of a bid for freedom rarely is,// Jono offered, gently, sending a soft pulse of understanding her way. //Those pulling a puppet's strings are often loathe to let go.//

He'd left a fair number of bodies behind, himself.

"I'm sorry," she said, abruptly. She had the strangest feeling, in her stomach, that he understood, that he wasn't judging her. He knew; he'd been at the edge of hell himself, and he knew the sort of choices one made when all the alternatives were distasteful. "I'm so sorry for what they did to you, and what you had to do to escape. It's not ... I wanted ... that's why I wanted to help. To offer, at least, though I don't know what my offer is worth. Your torture left you without a head, but mine left me with ... abilities, ones I don't understand. If they could help you ..."

It seemed only right, somehow.

Oh, Eleanor. You were breaking his heart a little. He only knew the barest hint of what she was capable of, and now it seemed as though she didn't actually know much more, herself. And yet here she was, concerned for him and willing to make this suggestion anyway.

//Are you offering to try to put me back together, luv?//

It was tempting. Lord, it was far more tempting than he'd care to admit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Groovy Tunes, Wednesday

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject