frostythehitman

[ Well, here it goes. He thinks it'll be easier to share this with a stranger than with a friend, and he's already cold-called someone to sing a ballad to them, so... ]

Um. Hey. I don't think I know you, but um. I need to tell someone something I remembered and -- I mean, I could call someone else about it too. Just. Yeah, sorry, it's really dumb.

[ If this guy is expecting James to comfort him at all, then he's in for a rude awakening, because reassuring anyone of anything is not something he's particularly known for.

But he's not about to attack the guy for calling him either. ]

Okay. So what is it, then?

[ Actually he was definitely expecting James to just hang up so ]

It's these... hallucimemories, I've been getting a lot of weird ones lately. And sometimes it's just, you know, being happy about finding explosives behind a beat-up van or something?

But... I remembered that I had a gun in my hands. A rifle, I think. And there was this... deer I think? Or a dog. Wolf maybe? I don't know, I just remember its eyes, and I was going to kill it. I don't know how I knew that, I just was going to shoot it even though I didn't want to, I think it was diseased? I think it was in pain.

I don't know. I just felt bad. I didn't want to kill it! But I felt like I had to!

[ Oh Christ. He didn't know what to expect from this, but this certainly wasn't it. He's not ready to talk about this stuff on the spot like this.

Let's just...gauge the extent of this memory of his. ]

So? Did you?

Yeah... I mean I think I did? I don't really remember, it stops there. But I have a feeling it died. And it was my fault. I don't know. It's a weird feeling, like waking up from a dream still mad at someone you were mad at in the dream. But. It's me I'm mad at.

...You haven't hallucinated like that, have you?

[ There's a pause, and then an audible sigh. ]

...Yeah. Yeah, I have. All the time, actually.

Mine are with people, though.

You...

...You shot people?

[ He sounds scared and disbelieving and a little judgey, so quickly: ]

I mean. It wasn't really you. They're just... hallucinations. Just Jim trying to mess us up.

It was in a war. Everyone was shooting each other, it's not like there was a way around it.

[ He sounds defensive. Mostly because he is.

But at the same time...he sounds a lot more uncertain and, frankly, pretty uncomfortable. ]

Except for this one thing. I...there was this one time I remember throwing a knife through a man's throat and killing him. Someone was telling me afterwards that I didn't have a choice and I did what I had to do, but...I don't know who he was. Or why I was doing it, or anything. I know I felt bad though.

[ And he still does, honestly. It's supremely messed up--it's the first hallucinomemory he ever got, and it's the one he's never said a word about until just now. It feels good to admit to it but mortifying at the same time. ]

That'...s messed up...

I mean.

Do you still remember what he looked like? Because... maybe he's around here somewhere.

And... what if he remembers you?

This is definitely all just some game to Jim.

[ Oh Christ. He hadn't considered that at all. ]

No...he was wearing some gas mask. I saw his eyes, but that's it.

But if anyone remembers anything about me, I haven't heard about it yet.

Um

Were you wearing a mask, 'cause that sounds like it would've been a good time to wear a mask, or right now would be a good time to grow a beard.

I'm pretty sure I was. I had a mask around the eyes, anyway.

What, are you Superguy or something, I don't think that hides your identity.

According to the comics, it does.

[ Not that he puts much stock in what the comics say, considering he's a helpless kidnapping victim in half of them and they featured fights with such menacing villains as "Netman." ]

Didn't know you were a comic book superhero... You know those aren't real, right?

Watch out for guys with gas masks, 'cause if you die you stay dead, like Uncle Brent and Lucky Charms.

Yeah, I know they're not real. But the uniform they draw me in is.

[ He sighs, annoyed. Partially because he hates these dumb comic book conversations that seem to have just become a part of his every day life, and partially because the idea that the guy he killed could also be someone in Recolle is a stressful one he hadn't considered before. ]

Damn. If that guy is around, then...I don't even know if he'd actually go around wearing a gas mask all the time.

Okay, well.

What color were his eyes?

--And what do you mean the uniform is real?

....Brown. His eyes were brown.

[ He hates that he remembers it that clearly, but there you go. ]

And I mean it's real because I remember receiving it, official and all. And also I have it, in the flesh and everything.

Weird. And yeah I guess that's not very helpful... What's the uniform look like?

[ He sighs, because he knows precisely how stupid this is going to sound. ]

It's like a spandex blue leotard jacket. And I mean blue blue, actual bright blue, not gray. Plus these blue boots and red leggings and gloves.

...So this guy has a gas mask and you're stuck in spandex and a raccoon mask.

I mean... Did you even have a utility belt?

I don't think so. I don't remember having one, and the uniform I have now doesn't have one.

All I had was the knife.

[ And come to think of it, he remembers being in a lot of pain then, too--a sharp, throbbing pain deep in his leg, and the knife was bloody in his hands even before he killed someone with it. ]

I think...I think I got stabbed with that knife and then I took it and threw it.

[ what the hell kind of crap was he even doing, these memories get more disturbing by the second ]

You what?

You threw the knife that someone stabbed you with?

To where?

You mean where I got stabbed?

My leg, probably. It was hurting a lot.

What! No, where did you throw the knife

And why?

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couldn't resist... enjoy these expys

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