shellphones | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Type: Accidental Video
Sender ID: 🖕nunya🖕(Sidestep)
To: Public
Subject:
Warnings: Mention of death and torture. Threads are likely to end up going deeply traumatic places.

(It's a typical day on Nogard, though many people who see this might be elsewhere.

Many have probably heard by now that Chris is dead. Has been dead for several days, in fact, after being captured and tortured by Ganon.

Except... they're not?

That's definitely a shot of a very panicked looking Chris running... somewhere, not paying attention to the shellphone clutched in their hand or noticing that it's recording.

Several people can be heard yelling in surprise in the background as Chris darts past them.

...The fuck are they even running from? It doesn't sound like they're being chased.

The hand holding the shellphone bumps into something, and the video cuts out.)

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[ By now, she's opened one of the bags and start to take some of the pastries out.

She doesn't seem surprised by the news... but that might be because - ]

I've got family that was made in a lab. She's a little nutty, but a good kid. Reminds me of myself at that age, actually.

(And they're not even sure what to say to that, so instead they just start on the pastries, shoving a garlic knot into their mouth like someone who has never heard of table manners, though they manage to be, perhaps surprisingly, neat about it. Like someone who has had a lot of practice eating as though they've never heard of table manners.

Eventually, when they've finished the pastry, they'll continue.)

Yeah, well, really didn't plan to be outed to the whole network by Ganon.

[ Her expression saddens at that, and she interlocks her fingers, looking down. ]

... I knew he was bad news. He had some... weird cat monsters attack a friend of mine. But... I was being naive. I didn't go after him, I didn't tell people about it, I just... assumed... I dunno, I thought the rules of my world would apply here too.

... That he would be stopped before things... got this bad. That the good guys would always march in and save the day, and...

[ She runs a hand down her face, making herself stop. ]

... But this isn't about me. I just wish... I could have been there for you.

(They snort, and it's a good thing they'd already finished their pastry because otherwise they'd have probably choked on it.

It's not a happy snort. In fact, their eyes appear to be tearing up, because yeah, wouldn't it be nice if things worked out like that? If heroes weren't just an illusion that helped sustain the horrible, oppressive systems that created and abused them and countless others?)

Why? (Would she want to be there for them?)

... I feel like I've said this before, but let's go through it again.

I'll give you a list of reasons. You won't believe any of them. You think you're unlovable, and or I'm just a foolish woman with too big of a heart. You're convinced you'll drive me away - either by your actions or your attitude. You may even try to do it on purpose, thinking you're saving us both heartache, but really just make things worse.

But I'll keep coming back, over and over, with a hand out for you. I'm stubborn, in case you haven't noticed.

(And then she does this and they want to tell her to stop, nevermind, change the subject actually! They were trying to avoid talking about "heroes" and how even Della's world probably doesn't really work like that for people who aren't rich explorers, only to stumble into something worse!

Panic seizes them then, breath constricting, eyes darting around as though looking for a way out. What does she even know? She wasn't there, she didn't see what happened with their powers. What they can do.

Does she even know they have powers?

They're hyperventilating.)

[ Well, that's definitely off script! Her eyes pop, and she is instantly out of her chair, at his side, hands out but not touching him in case that would make things worse. ]

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Deep breathes! I-I'm sorry, I don't know what I did, but... just focus on getting air in and out, and then you can tell me what to do...

(Nothing has been going like they thought it would. That might be a good thing... but it's overwhelming, too, and they've been holding in a breakdown for hours.

Della doesn't touch them but they're cringing away ftom her anyway, covering their face as tears well up uncontrollably.)

[ Gods, she wishes she could just throw her arms around them, but she's learned during her time here that not everyone is okay with that. She bites her lip, and then moves - taking out napkins, uncapping a bottle of water, putting both near them.

Then... she takes a breath, and begins to gently hum. She won't go for full-on singing. Just a quiet, soft song to combat the voices in their head. They might recognize it from when Della accidentally posted about missing her children. ]

(Good choice Della: Chris has been attacked and hurt too many times to respond well to being grabbed on a good day, and this is about as far from one of those as they can get.

Unfortunately, they don't seem to be doing well anyway. Fingernails dig into the skin on their face. Not enough to damage. Not going for anything vulnerable.

~~Perhaps the music is what stops them.~~

Still it takes several minutes for them to relax their grip. To stop curling up so tight.

And they haven't stopped crying.)

Edited 2025-08-31 09:04 (UTC)

[ Della takes one of the napkins, and holds it up near Chris' face - but still doesn't go in for the touch. Instead, once the song is over, she gently asks. ]

Can I...?

(They stiffen a bit, looking at her.

After a moment of seeming frozen, they finally reply.)

Alright. (Even their voice is stiff and awkward: they have no idea what to do with her kindness.)

Thank you.

[ Offering a smile, she slowly and delicately begins wiping Chris' face, ready to stop the second she's told otherwise. ]

Message received - no more script skipping. Take the conversations one beat at a time, no cheating.

[ A little joke to hopefully ease some awkwardness. ]

(They're stiff under her touch. Utterly unused to hands near their face that aren't an incoming punch.

It takes a moment before they can relax without flinching away.)

I don't ...I'm not very good at this. (Why is the idea of unending kindness even scarier than unending torment? What is wrong with them?)

Hey, I'm no expert either. Nothing to be ashamed of.

[ Once their face is cleaned up, she tosses the used napkins in a trash can, and pushes some of the pastries and water closer to him. ]

Probably should refuel, though. That kind of crying can really drain you.

...Yeah.

(They're still trying to cry, tears welling up and slipping out even though they aren't actually sobbing.

They're thirsty enough they go for the water before the pastries.)

[ She sits back down, and takes a moment of silence, trying to decide what to say next. ]

... Made up that song myself. I wanted to sing it for my babies. I... was separated from them for over ten years, so I didn't get to... but my brother did. He sang it to them every night.

I'm sorry. Did you get to sing it after you came back?

(They pick at a pastry.)

My creators caught me and imprisoned me for five years.

[ Here we go - if they're comfortable to talk about it, maybe it's okay for her to go through it, nice and easy... ]

... How long ago was that, before you came to this world?

Escaped a little over two years before coming here.

(And then, quietly.)

They probably think I'm dead... but they'll still be looking (She'll still be looking.) just in case.

(Now with everything they're doing? It's only a matter of time.)

And how long have you been in this world? Maybe they won't show up here. People from the same world seem to come in clusters... but I won't claim to be an expert on it or anything.

[ Is she allowed to eat? She's gunna eat. ]

I'll have to go back eventually.

(Yeah they don't care if she eats. They will, in fact, finally start nibbling on things again.)

This isn't like the badguys in your world. There's stuff worse than any of the people or things you've mentioned ...and that's before you get to the actually bad parts.

... Do you want to go back to your world? ... What if we could find a way for you to go somewhere else? Or stay here?

[ She doesn't know if it's possible. But that also means there's no proof it's impossible. ]

I'm not sure we're gonna be able to manage that.

(Would anyone take them? It feels like a lot to ask.)

But that also means you're not sure we CAN'T. Isn't it worth a try? I can think of so many people I'd love to share my world with, and that includes you.

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CW: Self harm adjacent

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