July Idiocy

[mortalcoil]

♥ Who: Coil Lenn + Carl Grimes
♥ Where: Trashboy house + the party
♥ When: Mid-late July
♥ What: Storytime + dressing up
♥ Rating: PG-13?


For some stupid reason, Coil had thought that he'd be able to dodge most of the stupidity by staying home. The town was giving him unpleasant flashbacks of suffering in space for an unseen audience, so he had hunkered down in the house, planning on an extended stay of hiding from the outside world.

Curled up on the couch, he boredly pages through the network, looking through the new stories that have appeared for anything interesting... until one in particular strikes a sudden pang of horror in his chest.

It doesn't take him long to realize that there are too many familiar things about the pair of one-eyed teenage protagonists to be a coincidence. The traumatic backstories, the unexpected reunion in a new town, the struggle of trying to live on their own together.

At first, Coil reads out of sheer panic, horrified at the absurd, embarrassing things that the author is having these characters think and do... then, as time goes on, morbid fascination sets in.

By the time that Carl comes home, Coil is so wrapped up in the lurid tale that he doesn't hear the front door. Eye wide and fixed on the screen, device balanced on his drawn-up knees, one hand pressed over his mouth, nothing exists to Coil except the chapter he is on now: the pair's first trip to a hot spring...

Comments

[postocular]

He understands the gesture and lets out a sigh as he deflates against the back of the sofa. Carl wants to be able to brush it off and laugh at it- because it's silly, right? It's people acting out their lives like a kid with some dolls. He wants to think that there's no merit in it.. but now that it's kind of out there?

Fuck, he doesn't know what to do. He sits there, lost in his own head, biting at his thumbnail as he thinks about it.

He's not as bothered about it as he should be. Carl shifts so he can catch Coil's eye, something that just comes naturally now that they've been living together for so long. It sucks they're both missing the same eye, but that's also become kind of an inside joke, too.

Raising an arm, he twists his opposite hand upward and runs it up along his arm. 'Creepy' is the only thing he signs before his lips tick upward briefly.

"It's weird that it feels like they're writing stuff from inside our own head. Y'know?"

[mortalcoil]

The device gets left on the couch between them as Coil, in his anxiety, pulls one leg up onto the couch. He hugs his arms around his knee, as if being smaller and curling up a little would really protect him from this situation.

It's more subtle now, but Coil still looks stressed when Carl glances over to catch his eye, and he nods in response to Carl's signing.

That question, though. His brow briefly knits before he hesitantly signs, 'Making up things.' It's supposed to be a statement, elaborating on what Carl is saying, but... his expression and hesitation inadvertently turns it questioning.

That's what Carl means, right?

[postocular]

Carl sympathizes, he feels the desire to hide away, too. Even in habit, his head ducks down, hair obscuring his face as he does. Instead of answering immediately, he lets the implication sit there. Making up things. It would be easy enough to laugh it off and say yeah, they were making things up. The thing is, something stops him. Maybe it's the way Coil is all hunched in on himself, waiting for the shoe to drop (which makes his stomach flip in a way he doesn't like at all) or like he's gearing himself up for bad news.

He shifts, mimicking Coil's own stance, fingers picking at the worn him of his jeans.

After what feels like too long, he shakes his head. His hands flex but make no move to sign anything. He doesn't think there's anything that could really convey it.

"Not like that. Like--" He sighs, running a hand nervously through his hair. "Like they pulled something out that I didn't know was there? And now that it is, I dunno what to do with it?"

[mortalcoil]

Carl at least has the option of using his voice to work through his thoughts as he goes, but Coil is stuck in the realm of specific ideas if he wants to convey anything more than ambiguous (if emotive) gestures. So, he's also quiet for what feels like far too long. Carl has probably known him long enough to be able to pick up on the level of tension in his stillness, like he isn't even daring to breath.

He's trying to even process what Carl is saying, running over the exact words in his head again, making sure he isn't misunderstanding what he's saying... and even that is difficult to do around the wordless panic wrapping like a physical presence squeezing his ribcage.

For the moment at least, Coil has no response. Just staring off to the side while admonishments hissed at him from very old memories and the sound of Zhas teasing him over and over again cycle through his head.

[postocular]

Of course he picks up on the rising tension. It feels like a bow pulled all the way back, ready for release. That fight or flight response sits low in his belly, but he doesn't move, just continues to worry a thread that's been picked loose. His eye doesn't leave Coil, though, not wanting to miss it when he does start signing again.

He knows it's a lot to take in- it was a lot to say- and even now, Carl kind of replays it in his head. That was... really how he felt. Logically, he knows there's not a problem with it, but there's that small edge of panic. There's nobody around that would second-guess it or tell him he didn't understand. That's kind of the point, right? He did understand. Maybe.. it had been easier to see from the outside looking in?

Either way, he starts to fidget with anticipation. Carl raises his hand in an 'o' before splitting his fingers apart with his thumb in the middle before bringing it down on his extended palm.

'It's okay. Whatever Coil wanted that to mean. If he didn't want to acknowledge it again, that was fine, too. He just worried that something like this would wreck their friendship. All things considered, it's a silly thing to worry about-- something that he may have had to go through if he'd had any sort of normal upbringing, but.. things were different. If he didn't have his best friend, what was the point, right?

cw: panic

[mortalcoil]

While several aspects of this whole thing are not new, it's never talked about. It had always been a struggle taking place within the confines of his own head, with input only feeding in from one direction, from the outside. And even that contained conflict had been enough cause for panic--the process of becoming aware of the things that he himself had been thinking, and then fearing with everything he had that it would somehow get out. That was still safer than this. The fact that this is alarmingly close to becoming a two-way dialogue about the subject is like being pushed toward the edge of a cliff.

The whole subject had been judged a long time ago as wrong. He'd gone so long silently being told that he was wrong. Despite the fact that over the course of his years spent being pulled from one place to another, he'd decided that not everything needed to be exactly the way it had been at home, this panic is automatic. It cuts right past logical reassurances he could be telling himself.

Coil straightens up a little as he draws in a breath, steadying himself and trying to get a handle on his sudden, screaming anxiety. But letting the breath back out doesn't come easy through the strangling sensation spreading out from his chest.

He gets as far as gesturing to himself and signing 'Don't--' before it all gets jammed up again. Carl knows what Coil looks like when he's genuinely fighting down a panic attack, and this is it.

[postocular]

Well, he didn't expect that kind of visceral reaction, but his worry for Coil outweighs any sort of lingering disappointment he may feel. This isn't about him. Worry etched on his face, he uncurls from the couch and sits on the floor in front of Coil- not touching him, but close.

"Whoa, hey-- it's okay. Just take a deep breath and let it out slow for me? Don't focus on anything but that."

He hasn't gotten this down yet, but he's trying. The last thing he wants to do is cause Coil even more distress than he's already feeling.

"I'm sorry, we won't talk about it again."

[mortalcoil]

Coil manages to fumble out a couple repetitions of 'sorry' before the familiar wash of white panic pushes out all of the other words from his head. He quickly gives up trying to sign anything else and lowers his hands to rest on either side of himself, bracing his arms straight so he can lean forward and try to ride this out here instead of getting up and fleeing to another room.

However, looking at Carl there, right in front of him and so kindly trying to help, makes the panicky, fluttery feeling in his chest worse. It's a stark reminder of exactly why he's full of this anxiety in the first place, so he turns his head away to keep his friend on his blind side. He's listening though. Trying to breathe and ignore all of the things still screaming in his head behind all the panic.

As if the hyperventilating wasn't bad enough, he hates how shaky it always makes him, even when the panic is over something stupid. He can't help but feel horribly weak, his arms and shoulders visibly trembling over a simple conversation with his friend.

[postocular]

Carl shifts uncomfortably in front of Coil, feeling absolutely useless. He hates not being able to do anything other than telling Coil not to panic. Absolutely unhelpful. The first time had been easy, just take him away from what was causing the panic and help calm him down from there. Now it's him that's the problem, and he doesn't know whether it's easier to stay put and try to talk him down or to leave the room. Would the horse make him feel better?

He bites at his lip, expression stricken.

"Sorry, sorry..Fuck, um.. do you want me to leave?" He'll only worry even more not being able to help, but there's not really much he's doing now.

[mortalcoil]

Coil may have lost his handle on a lot of things right now, has no idea what to think about the revelation that had just been made, and couldn't explain why he's currently panicking so badly over it... but there is one thing that he is in fact sure about.

When Carl asks if he should leave, Coil turns back to face him--teary-eyed because of course that always has to be part of his panic on top the rest of the humiliation--and shakes his head. Emphatically.

He doesn't want him to go anywhere.

And being forced to think long enough to answer a question helps interrupt the runaway train of anxiety. He's able to drag in a longer breath and drag the back of a shaking hand across his eye.

[postocular]

It's hard for Carl to think any less of Coil, so this moment of weakness is brushed off as something that just happens. They're human, and emotions can't be contained all the time.. and Carl kind of sucker-punched him with this out of nowhere. Hell, it's kind of out of nowhere for him, too. They can think about it later. Right now it's about getting Coil calmed down so they can go back to ignoring it.

He nods when Coil confirms he doesn't want Carl to leave.

"Okay. Just gimme a yes or a no- will me touching you make it worse?" His hand is poised to rest on Coils knee if he wants it. If not, he'll think of something else. For now, questions seem like a good distraction. It doesn't quell how rapidly his own heart is pounding against his chest, but helping his friend will make it better.

[mortalcoil]

Questions are indeed a good thing. It gives him something to do other than despair over how he can't do a simple thing like control his own breathing. It pulls him out of his own head enough to think about what's right in front of him.

Struggling through another longer breath, he shakes his head. It wouldn't make it worse.

[postocular]

Coil's been around when he felt absolutely useless, so it's kind of a shared despair at this point. Carl's hand lands gently on Coil's knee, squeezing in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture that it's okay. They've gone through worse shit than some hurt feelings.

"Can I get you anything? A glass of water? One of your books? ...Count Scapula?"

[mortalcoil]

Coil is not exactly a touch-oriented person (aside from conveying emotions and affection through things like punching) but the hand on his knee almost seems to help. It seems to be grounding at the very least, and he finally manages to take a string of several deeper, more regulated breaths in a row.

After wiping his eye again, he shakily brings fingers up toward his mouth in the sign for 'water.'

[postocular]

Water he can do. He makes it to his feet, giving Coil's knee a quick pat before disappearing into the kitchen. When Carl comes back, he takes his spot back on the floor directly in front of Coil, holding the water out for him for whenever he decides to take it.

He feels like an asshole for causing the distress. He hadn't meant anything by it, but that didn't really matter, did it? The silence lingers for a few minutes before he tries to catch his best friend's eye. He moves his hand in an open palm in front of his mouth before pulling it away into a closed fist, his thumb extended.

'Better'?

[mortalcoil]

When Carl comes back with the water, Coil has leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and head in his hands, coming down off the last of the anxiety high. He still looks shaky and rattled when he straightens up as soon as he hears Carl returning, but his breathing is under control again.

He signs a quick thank-you before eagerly taking the glass. Hyperventilating is even less fun than it would be otherwise when you're missing most of your tongue. He then proceeds to quietly focus on his glass of water like he might be able to get away with doing only that for the rest of his life.

Carl catches his eye eventually, though. He can't hide forever.

Still holding the glass, he first answers with only a one-handed version of, 'much.' Then, sort of compulsive about it, he quickly follows it up with a clumsy 'thank you' and 'sorry.'

[postocular]

He's relieved to see Coil is somewhat put together, but that doesn't stop the furrow of his brow or the concern in his eye. He shakes his head, holding up a hand to show that Coil really doesn't need to do that. Doesn't have to apologize for anything.

Carl motions between them before linking both his index fingers together. 'We're friends'. He feels like he doesn't have to explain more than that, but maybe that's where he went wrong in the first place.

[mortalcoil]

For a moment, his gaze lowers, eye ticking back and forth between his thoughts. But, whatever it is going on in his head, it never makes it out. He doesn't feel like he can handle unpacking anything more.

So, he nods. A simple but genuine agreement--which, honestly, is still more than he usually lets himself agree to out loud.