The Park, Late Sunday Morning

[soniaroadsqueen]

Crazy Apple was sitting on a park bench, her legs folded beneath her in silence. Her breathing started off slow and steady, almost like she was meditating or something.

The thing about Crazy Apple was that she knew she wasn't really some sort of other personality of Ringo's. Not in the way people usually meant when they talked about that sort of thing. It wasn't the same sort of thing as what Agito and Akito had back home. Neither of them really remembered much of what the other had done, leaving some odd fuzzy areas in both of their memories. But Crazy Apple knew everything Ringo had done, and Ringo, underneath it all, could see and hear what Crazy Apple did.

Crazy Apple was who Ringo became when she felt overwhelmed and couldn't deal with the things she was seeing or doing, but she kept seeing and doing whatever it was, which meant she'd either have to deal with it eventually or keep being Crazy Apple.

Still, Crazy Apple was independent enough to make decisions, and while she wasn't particularly interested in what Ringo ultimately decided to do, she still had little ways to influence that sort of thing. Like what she was doing now: sitting still, clearing her mind of distractions, leaving herself with few ways to avoid mulling over the thoughts swirling in her head.

Or maybe you can start dealing with your own shit like the rest of us do, Ringo, Dante had said. Fake split personality bullshit ain't cute.

Her breathing slowly sped up, becoming a little more ragged, as unformed thoughts of outrage and betrayal and an undercurrent of shame and worry slowly swirled beneath the surface of Crazy Apple's active thoughts. Ringo's emotions. The ones she didn't want to deal with. They weren't enough to push Crazy Apple aside. Not enough to pull Ringo to the surface where she could curl up and cry herself out from too many competing feelings. So Crazy Apple continued to sit there, trying to keep her breathing under control and let those emotions keep swirling.

Wondering if anything would come of it.

[ooc: Open.]

Comments

[rebelseekspizza]

"I sent all of you back home and then I let Anders drag me to a hotel room and we had pizza and we talked about shit," Dante said.

A beat. "But don't tell anyone else I told you that. Anyway, I needed that."

[soniaroadsqueen]

She moved again, her head coming up and her eyes sort of staring at him. Not in doubt, exactly, but in something like surprise.

Dante? Talked about, as he put it, "shit"?

[rebelseekspizza]

"Don't stare at me like that," Dante said, pulling a face.

[soniaroadsqueen]

Ringo's head snapped down, looking away from him like she'd been caught at something. Then she sniffled a couple of times.

"You don't talk," she said softly. There wasn't enough energy in it to be an accusation.

[rebelseekspizza]

"I talk," Dante said. "'m just not great at it."

Anders just had a way of making it feel like no big deal.

[soniaroadsqueen]

"Oh."

Just not with her.

Though, to be fair, Ringo was pretty awful at making anything feel like no big deal.

"Still." She sniffled again. "It's not the same." Her head shook slightly, sending a little ripple through her hair.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Why not?" Dante asked, raising an eyebrow.

[soniaroadsqueen]

"Well."

Good question.

"All that stuff you were just yelling at me about."

That was different, right?

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante blinked at her. "It'd be nice if you stopped going to the crazy act when you felt like shit, yeah," he said. "But doing that's like the opposite of talking."

[soniaroadsqueen]

"I-I tried," Ringo sniffled some more.

"But, I'm not like you." Her voice grew soft again. "Not strong enough to do it alone."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante sighed. "I'm not doing it alone."

Get out your 'things he wouldn't have said a year ago' bingo cards, folks.

[soniaroadsqueen]

"You were," Ringo insisted. "You told me I should."

Well, he hadn't actually said that, to be fair, but it had been implied.

[rebelseekspizza]

"No, I told you to deal with your shit," Dante said. "If that means going to somebody and crying on them for a while, fine."

[soniaroadsqueen]

She still hadn't looked up at him. So it would be pretty easy to miss her whisper.

"Who?"

[rebelseekspizza]

Long pause. "You really don't know anybody who's better at this than I am?"

It was an honest question. He wasn't good at this.

[soniaroadsqueen]

"Who?" she repeated.

If he had a suggestion, she was listening.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Kathy?" Dante volunteered.

After another moment, grudgingly: "Or me."

[soniaroadsqueen]

"Yeah. Great options."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante shrugged. "That doesn't work for you, make better friends, I guess."

[soniaroadsqueen]

She shook her head again. "Don't think it's my f-friends' fault. I j-just probably suck at being a good one."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante looked at her for a long moment.

He shook his head again.

"C'mon," he said, motioning for her. "You feel like burgers? Let's go grab burgers."

[soniaroadsqueen]

Ringo licked her lips nervously, and then, for the first time since Dante had turned around and come back, she looked up at him. Her eyes were red, and she looked exhausted. And still more than a little afraid.

"A-are," she paused to swallow. "Are you sure?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"I never lie to people about food," Dante announced.

He nodded towards town. "C'mon."

[soniaroadsqueen]

She hesitated for a couple more seconds, then tentatively reached out a hand toward him. Tense, like she was worried she'd have to pull it back in a hurry. As if she might get burned.

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante let out a faintly amused sigh, and took her hand. He didn't even make a joke about her being a sap, even if it bubbled closely to the surface. "And you can fill me in on the nightmares on a full stomach," he said instead. "Like God intended."