Breakdown
Who: Ben, open to all inside the chapel
Where: The chapel!
When: Noonish
He'd been trying, trying so hard to keep control. The days since the fire had been a steady erosion of what little calm and composure Ben could usually muster; first the forced interaction with the others while building shelters, then the complete absence of the privacy he craved so badly. Without his medicine, Ben knew that it was a matter of time, time that was sapped more quickly by having to help these people he didn't know or trust.
He'd stayed in the chapel, of course; eschewing a shared tent for the small reassurance of a solid roof and a bit of space to withdraw. Not that there had been much of that to go around, what with how the pews had been rearranged to act as impromptu sleeping spots. THat effort had been wasted on him; his apnea normally made sleep a battle on it's own, and this situation made it impossible to even close his eyes for long out of paranoia.
Seated with his back to a wall and his guitar cradled in his lap, Ben stared out around the chapel with reddened, shadowed eyes as his fingers fidgeted with his guitar's casing clasps. He could taste blood in his mouth, the results of anxious chewing on his tongue to muffle the ramblings that were growing stronger by the moment, and past the blood was a mercurial, bitter taste. Bile, and what he thought of as the flavor of sickness itself. It was always a warning to one of his episodes, but one he rarely voiced.
"Don't get it," he muttered bitterly, "None of them. Idle and distracted, happy with the greens and the blues, blind on sunlight and star watching..." A small part of him wanted to say something, to ask for the doctor he'd spoken to on the journals so long ago, but Ben didn't even know her name. And even if he did, that rational voice was so quiet, so dim, that he wouldn't even be aware of it's presence until hours later.
Instead he rose, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and moving to walk a circuit that would at least stretch his legs and hopefully distract his mind. He didn't think it would help for long, but right now any option was worth trying. "No god in here," he murmured as he took a few stiff steps, "No salvation. Just a herding pen. Spot to light up. Nowhere else to run. Watch us burn. Laugh from the trees as we scream and smolder and lose our names to the ashes."
It felt good to let the mishmashed thoughts spew out, and giving them a voice was like drawing fresh breath as Ben paced along one wall in the chapel. Then, sadly, his feet betrayed him. Focused on his own thoughts, Ben didn't even feel his foot catch the edge of a pew, didn't register the sudden tilt of his equilibrium, and was only aware that something was wrong when he crashed into the floor with bruising impact and saw his guitar fly away. Then things went red.
"No... god," he growled from where he laid, pushing both hands under him to rise slowly. "No god!" Ben roared this time, grabbing the edge of the pew he'd tripped over and yanking it roughly onto it's back, heedless of if anyone was even on it. "Nothing here! No hiding! Just hate!" He was on his feet as the bellows grew louder and more hateful, grabbing another pew and flipping it with a harsh grunt. In a state of mind like this, exertion didn't matter, neither did pain. Ben was a subject of his rage, and all that would end it was time.
Snatching up a hymnal from the overturned pew, Ben yanked it open and spat a mouthful of backwashed blood from his gnawed tongue into the pages, then shot a wild, unfocused look around the chapel. "Believe this?" he snapped balefully at no one and everyone, "Chants on paper and hallelujiah?" He turned, pitching the book at one of the windows with a growl and starting towards a row of prayer candles. "Buy my lies, they're cheaper! No contract for your soul, I don't want it!"
He screamed now, seizing the display and upending it, then kicking wildly at the wreckage with bare feet. Turning to look around the room again, Ben's shoulders rolled with deep breaths, but the manic look in his eyes said plenty. This wasn't over, he was just catching his breath. He was just picking something else to destroy. "Abandon all fucking hope, ye who enter," he snarled, spitting blood on the floor.
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...
Esmé had been reading the Bible. Her family had never been particularly religious, but since escaping Hell, she'd spent a good portion of her waking hours reading about Heaven. No one had seemed to want her help, even when she'd offered, and so she'd stayed in the chapel, keeping to herself, blocking out the world with her earplugs in.
Which is why her only warning that something was up was when the pew she'd been sitting on had been jarred. She didn't think much about it- people ran into things all the time. Then, without warning, she'd felt her world upturned, the Bible flying out of her hands, her feet flying over her head, and landing with a thud on the floor of the chapel, her head hitting with a crack. She hadn't even had time to react when she saw another pew come crashing down just inches from her. She looked around, very disoriented and somewhat numb, and saw Ben, wild eyed and- well, insane, smashing up the building.
All she could do in response was scream.
.
The scream pierced Ben's ears sharply, and his head swung wildly in the direction it came from, burning eyes locking onto the prone form of the woman on the ground. "Crawl!" he yelled, stalking towards her, "Don't walk here! Man walks, man gets punished! Wrathful fucking shit of a god sees it! Or nothing does? Which is better?" He moved in close, gripping the overturned pew for balance to lean down near Esme, flecks of spittle clinging on his lips and beard. "Which is worse?" he thundered in close at her.
...
Esmé was unable to move. She had stopped screaming when Ben had gotten in her face, but her eyes were wide with terror. She wanted to move, to crawl away, to wipe the spit and blood off of herself, but couldn't. She was paralyzed, although if it was just fear or if she was injured, she couldn't tell. All she could do was stare into those insane eyes. She couldn't really hear him, but she could read his lips somewhat. Her mouth didn't want to cooperate, but eventually she managed to get out, "P-p-pwease... I d-duh kn-now." In her mind, she thought a silent prayer. Just let it be quick, God, if he kills me. Make it quick, please.
.
"Don't know?" he echoed, reaching down to grab her by the shoulders and haul Esme into a partially seated position. "Don't know if you want to be a puppet? Play a part? Wake up to more lies every day?" His hands were squeezing tight, a last-ditch effort by some shred of cogency in his head to keep from striking her. "Choose! Choose entropy, choose chaos! Choose subjugation to every filthy fear and guilt we pin on ourselves! Just. Fucking. CHOOSE." he screamed deafeningly at her, giving a rough shake and releasing Esme to drop to the floor, then abruptly turning and standing as he scanned for something else to vent his boundless anger on.
.
Torlin had spent most of the morning in her tent, playing with the guitar she'd gotten yesterday and spending some time with the animals. She knew she should be out gathering food and stuff -- and figuring out what the hell that fish smell was -- but she felt hidey. And there were only so many places to hide. Around noon, however, she'd emerged to go and find some food for herself. She'd made a deal that since she took the morning, she would help out this afternoon. That was, until she heard the commotion in the chapel.
She hurried in, dark eyes widening at the destruction inside. And the bearded man in the middle of it. "Oh God," Tor murmured, eyes scanning the room. This was ... bad. All kinds of not good, and she should probably get -- oh no! Her gaze landed on Esme and she rushed over. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling next to the girl. She put her hands on Esme's shoulders to try and help her up, then realized she probably shouldn't move her and just tried to get a look at her face.
...
His last scream had been so loud that even with her earplugs in, Esmé had heard it. Still unable to fight, to scream, afraid for her life, she had just stared into his horrible eyes until Ben had shaken her and dropped her to the floor. Her head hit once again, and this time, the darkness began to take her and she blacked out. Mami, Papi, why didn't I listen to you? The last thing he saw was an angel running to her. Her eyes closed and the world faded to nothingness around her.
.
He'd already forgotten his tirade that had been screamed at Esme, and for a moment Ben busied himself with another barefoot kick at the candles he'd scattered, then moved for the chapel's pulpit to scatter it's contents as he ranted. "House of lies," he rambled, tearing pages from a copy of the bible, "False front against this madness! Bear trap full of rabbits!" Suddenly Ben stopped, dimly aware of Torlin's voice carrying from the back of the chapel. His head twisted, a gleaming look aimed over his shoulder at where she crouched with Esme. "No!" he thundered, tossing the ruined book aside and starting towards her. "Sympathy for the devil? No! Sympathy for the damned? No! We all get our due!"
.
Kaylin, contrary to habit, had slept rather late that day due to a bad headache that she feared would evolve into one of her nastier migraines, but had eventually forced herself to get up and get working. There was water to be fetched and food to be gathered, and all of that would go faster with as many people as they could working, especially since they were already down a few with the injured. She'd been on her way back from the stream with water, but the commotion from the chapel drew her attention - it seemed that the muffled voice she could hear yelling as rather familiar.
Slipping past the new-looking girl in the doorway, Kaylin stopped dead when she saw the overturned pews and general destruction, Torlin hovering over a girl that looked to be unconscious. And, as she'd feared, the source of the rage was Ben. She couldn't help herself as she hurried forward to meet him as he approached Torlin; she liked Ben and felt somewhat responsible for him, but he certainly made a frightening picture coming at them like that.
"Ben," she said, voice low and calm, though her face was creased with concern over the faint lines that two days of constant headache and physical labor had etched around her mouth and eyes, "what's wrong? Are you all right?"
...
Still not sure where she was or what had happened to her, Samantha headed towards the building, dodging the fish that were hanging from a shed of some sort. As she rounded the front, she realized that it was a chapel. But she could hear shouting. Was there some hellfire and brimstone preacher here? Should she even enter? Cause you know, girls like her, barely dressed, probably wouldn't go over well with someone like that. She peeked her head around the corner of the door and gasped.
A heavily bearded man seemed to be having a fit of some sort. He was upending pews, throwing things around, and ranting about puppets and other things you wouldn't expect in a place of worship. He was at the head of the church, and just as she saw him, he turned around. He didn't seem to be her, instead seeming to be focused on something or someone else in there with him. Samantha wasn't stupid- she had no business going in there, but there were all these tents around. Maybe someone was in one of them that could help.
"Um, someone? Anyone?" She half shouted, trying to get someone's attention but at the same time, not wanting the maniac to really hear her. "There seems to be a disturbance in that church over there. Someone should probably go see what it is."
Kaori looked up from that,
Kaori looked up from that, then immediately got up, and made a dead run for the church. She had been outside, trying to help in other ways, and attempting to stop feeling sick to her stomach that Dave and Lina were gone. But fuck. Crisis. So with a bit of a 'thank you' to the girl who alerted her, she dashed inside. She quickly took in the situation. "Ben!" she called, in a vain hope to gain his attention.
.
Ben was moving on Kaylin, dimly aware of her but with his focus on Torlin for the moment. He was getting worse; surrounded by faces unfamiliar enough that in the moment they all seemed sinister. He never did well around the opposite sex, his seclusion and awkwardness were ten times as pronounced on his good days. And on his bad? Women scared the life out of him.
"All wrong!" he roared towards Kaori, hands opening and closing repeatedly in the rapidly closing distance. "All obvious! Nowhere to hide the filth in the open! No choice but for the serpents to shed their skin and feast in the fucking nursery!" He was on Kaylin in a heartbeat as she moved to intercept him, hands snapping out to grip her arms tightly. His brow creased in thought for a moment, dark eyes swirling as he looked past Kaylin to Kaori, then to Torlin with the prone Esme. "Weep, weep for your mothers," he intoned in a low voice, "They'll weep for you."
Slowly, perception filtered in in it's barest forms; recognition of his name on Kaori's lips and the faintest tingle of familiarity towards Kaylin. Ben let out a wordless growl, roughly tossing Kaylin aside as he released her and stalked towards the pulpit again. "Can't tell, can't tell..." he muttered, nervously running both hands over his short-cropped hair.
.
The girl under her was unconscious, and Torlin didn't know if she should move her into a better position or if she should do anything and he was just ... ranting and she couldn't think very well. When he grabbed Kaylin, Tor burst into tears, but she didn't dare get up and actually do anything about it. She just sort of cowered over Esme, half-paralyzed with fear. Despite everything the scientists had thrown at them, somehow this was far more terrifying. Where was everybody else?! She saw Kaori, but she was so tiny ... They needed bigger help. Like where was Kales and Dave and Lina and everybody else?
...
Samantha had no intention of entering the chapel, but at the same time, she couldn't not do something . Peeking in, she could see that the crazy man was distracted momentarily by the little Asian woman who'd pushed by her. Looking around she saw one girl hovering over another girl who seemed unconscious. The girl on the ground would probably be ok, but the other girl could still upset the man with the beard. She had to get her to leave. "Pssst!" she whispered, motioning the girl towards her. "You gotta get out of there now, while he's not looking, eh?"
.
While Kaylin knew that Ben wouldn't hurt her, she couldn't help the little squeak of fear that escaped when he grabbed her. She tried to coax him to keep talking, but it was clear that he wasn't hearing her despite the flicker of recognition she saw on his face when he looked at her. She stayed still, but it didn't matter because Ben had tossed her aside a second later. He was surprisingly strong and she stumbled, falling sideways over an upset pew, but was up a moment later and kneeling with Torlin with no more than a few bruises and a bigger headache. She reached out for her crying friend to give her a brief hug. "Go see if you can find someone else to help, in case Kaori can't calm him," she whispered to Torlin, keeping an eye on Ben. "I'll stay with this girl and make sure she's okay."
.
There were two people now encouraging her to get out. She'd looked at Samantha with dumb helpless not-understanding. Getting out was the best idea, probably, but she was scared and he wasn't calming down and he'd just kind of ... tossed Kaylin! She half-hugged the girl back when she was there, and swallowed hard, trying to get a hold of herself. Get help. She could do that, right? And Kaylin wouldn't leave the unconscious girl, so that was good. She threw one last terrified look toward the ranting Ben and waddle-crawled toward the door and Samantha. God, why was this happening? She was scared. She'd try to find Kales.
...
Samantha kept motioning the girl forward, cracking the door open a little more so she could escape. She knew they needed someone a bit stronger than either of them to get this under control, and this girl hopefully knew who to get. She definitely hadn't signed on for this. "Well, this is a helluva welcome, eh? Come on, let's go get some help." She hoped there was someone bigger at least- except for the loony, everyone she'd seen looked like teenagers.
.
A low groan rolled up Ben's back, turning plaintive as he stopped in front of the altar and clamped both hands on his head. THere was blinding pressure behind his eyes, and his tongue felt as though it were swelling in his mouth, moving of it's own volition. "What?" he bellowed at the empty air in front of him, keeping his back to the others. "What now? Where next? How does it end?"
His left hand left his head first, trembling as it pulled away slowly and then abruptly swung back in, resounding off his temple. "Where do we go from the brink? Fall? Fly?" he groaned a bit more weakly, swinging the other hand in to crack himself upside the head again. "Can't... can't trust me to trust them! No choices left!"
Kaori approached, though was cautious so she didn't get hit. "Ben." she said, clear and sharply when she was close enough to him. "Can you hear me?" If she could get him answering a simple question, she might have an in. Right around now she was really wishing she had sedatives. And possibly large orderlies.
His head was spinning; Ben had none of the issues with women factoring in towards hurting himself. And as much as the impulse to swing should've cleared his thoughts, it didn't. But he recognized the sound of his own name, oh yes. Ben froze, muscles in his neck and shoulders cording with tension as he reached out to grip the pulpit reassuringly. "Can I?" he echoed in a low groan, looking to the strained white knuckles of his own hands.
"Can I stop? Ever? All the lies and chitter-chatter, smalltalk that fills up the air so no one hears what they sound like?" He growled again, putting some force against the altar and only managing to rock it with a thud, slowly gaining an awareness of the pain in his feet, the ache in his arms and back. "I hear you... I hear you all without a choice."
"You need to calm down now." Kaori told him. "We can go someplace quiet for a little while, where you won't be able to hear them for now. Do you think you can do that with me?" she asked. She kept her tone the same, even but not pleading or yeilding. She was trying not to think about everything around her, the situation he'd caused already. Focus was key.
"No," Ben practically wept, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of leaving. "Can't go out there, too much sky and not enough ceiling. No walls, no borders, just... space. Can't breathe in it, hear everything, every bird and breeze and life or death..." He managed to twist his head back to look Kaori's way again, revealing red-rimmed eyes that had lost some of the rage to make room for panic and confusion. "No more room to just think to myself. Everything spills out," he rumbled, already losing some of the fire his ranting had held only minutes before.
Kaori stepped closer, not very quickly, so there weren't sudden movements to set him off. "Not outside, Ben." she said. "Downstairs. There's a storage area down there. It'll be quieter, and no one is down there." She also knew there was a little more room than usual, being people had cleared out anything of even the most remote use. "You can have all the time you need. I promise." She reached out one hand, inviting him to take it. "It'll be okay."
Keeping one hand on his head, Ben's fingers wormed through his hair to scratch anxiously at the scar on the back of his skull as he reached his other towards Kaori tentatively. "Stay there? Bar the door to myself?" he croaked, keeping his hand out of hers for the moment and casting an anxious look around the ruined church. Not to survey the damage, of course, but to try and find his guitar case.
"As long as you need." Kaori again assured him, noting him looking around, but she wasn't sure what he was searching for. "It'll be quieter, and it won't be outside. No one will make you go outside." she continued. Then she paused. "Do you need something, Ben?" she asked, since he still appeared to be searching.
He didn't answer, instead bolting with a slight limp from where they stood back towards the pews he'd flipped and turned. "Only constant, six variables with infinite combinations," he muttered, hobbling slightly past the bench without sparing a single glance at whoever else had stayed in the chapel. He dropped to his knees, grunting as he stretched under a bench and closed both hands on the hardcase. "Mine," he asserted plainly, looking back to Kaori and standing again. "Mine," Ben repeated, shedding his anger in rapid layers and seeming largely unperturbed by the chaos he'd caused on all sides.
"Yours." Kaori confirmed, standing, and she walked backwards a few paces towards the little hallway that lead to the stairs down to the cellar. "This way, Ben." she encouraged, waving for him to follow her. She was glad that he seemed to be calming down, but it wouldn't be the first time someone had calmed down only to flare directly back up again for no reason anyone else could discern.
She was right to be worried; without his medication Ben was incredibly prone to outbursts of that very nature. But he'd just mostly-left one behind, and had his hands on his most prized possession, so he'd have at least a handful of time before the logic he ran on twisted itself up again. Still, Ben moved down the small hallway with his instrument hugged tight to his chest, turning as he passed Kaori so he wouldn't take his gaze off of her even as he headed for the storage space. "Should lock me in," he admitted ruefully, slowing his pace to avoid another spill.
"I'm not locking anyone in." Kaori said. "But I'll sit here, at the top of the stairs, and if you need anything, you just let me know, alright?" she asked. "And if you need to come up to use the restroom, or anything, let me know and I'll clear everyone out for the time being." She thought it was the best course of action. She just wondered how long this was gong to last, and figured the answer to that was a depressing 'a long time'. Fucking scientists.