Entry tags:
[open] you told them all I was crazy
WHO: Cade, Simon, and anyone brave enough to visit them
WHAT: Blue Flu Boogaloo: Two Dudes Askew, Hijinks Ensue
WHEN: Phase II
WHERE: Simon's room, now with more Cade
NOTES: Ultra mega content warning for a variety of topics that might come up in flashbacks, most notably childhood sexual abuse, graphic violence, and possibly more which will be added as necessary.
WHAT: Blue Flu Boogaloo: Two Dudes Askew, Hijinks Ensue
WHEN: Phase II
WHERE: Simon's room, now with more Cade
NOTES: Ultra mega content warning for a variety of topics that might come up in flashbacks, most notably childhood sexual abuse, graphic violence, and possibly more which will be added as necessary.
I. Visit Both!
During the day, when they're both awake, the room is just a regular disaster zone. Simon's tools are laid out with no rhyme or reason, anything that could have at any point been tidy is in total disarray, and the room contains a frightening sense of lost control.
For more specifics, see their individual prompts:
II. Just Cade
Being easily worked up at the best of times, the lyrium problem has Cade nearly out of his mind and dissociating for what began as small spurts and has expanded to nearly all of his waking hours. It can be difficult to tell, being that it most often manifests as reclusiveness, with the thirty-something man sitting with his knees curled to his chest at the far end of his bed, his demeanor that of an eight-year-old with a monster in the closet. When it looks different, it's endless pacing, agitation, frantic muttering, the telltale signs of someone in danger of hurting himself.
Sometimes Simon or visitors can bring him out of it; sometimes he doesn't know who they are, or where he is. Dosing him with more lyrium results in pockets of lucidity, which rapidly turn despairing as he realizes he's losing it again, and they often aren't worth the trouble.
III. Just Simon
Anyone entering the room could be forgiven for not immediately realizing that Simon is there, when he is. It may be the first time in his entire life that he hasn't been the most immediately noticeable person in a given space. His bed is strewn with tools and books, the blankets pulled over his head to dampen whatever noise Cade makes, and beneath the covers, he shivers faintly.
He doesn't sleep, though, when he can help it--not here. Never here. He fights sleep now as hard as he's ever done, and if it means hauling himself out of bed inch by freezing, head-pounding, light-sensitive inch to go seek pharmaceutical help for it, he does as often as he can manage. His ability to manage grows increasingly less frequent by the day. He's promised himself to the researchers as a test subject, all but flinging himself at them in his desperation to find something that will help, magic or otherwise, but his memory of that commitment fades in and out and gradually dissolves altogether unless he's reminded of it.
He knows how this goes. It isn't the first time he's found himself in this lyrium-deprived boat with no memory of how he got there. The powerlessness is the point.

no subject
"That's right," She assures him, and waits for him to finish the question. Which...he doesn't. Well, then. That's not very comforting. But she leans down to fish some little cakes out of the basket, and offers them to him.
"Here's the cakes," She tells him, which can either just be a general statement, or an attempt to answer his question.
no subject
Probably.
Making an interested face, Cade's attention is diverted to them, and he takes one to bite into it without asking any questions. It's definitely fine if Beleth gave it to him, and-- wait, why is Beleth here?
Still chewing, Cade looks at her uncertainly.
no subject
"Are the cakes alright?" She asks instead, looking concerned. She was pretty sure that they were, because she'd helped herself to a few beforehand.
no subject
Then a pang of uncertainty rocks him, and he forgets what they were talking about, and Cade pushes his hair back out of his face with a motion that's almost compulsive.
"I..." he begins, fighting for coherence in his mind, "...I forgot to take my lyrium." That's a relief, to know that. Taking the lyrium will fix everything. "I should..."
Looking around, he realizes he doesn't know where his little supply box is.
no subject
But it's not a decision Cade can quite make, either.
She decides that the best thing to do is to keep trying the singular topic thing. Get him to focus on one thing, at least for a little bit. She can look into the lyrium later. Food is, after all, a little more important. "We can go get your lyrium after you finish the cakes, okay?" With a gesture to the cakes in question. "You can't have both at the same time, after all."
no subject
Because he wants to believe in order, he goes to take a second one and bites into it with a little less gusto. Beleth knows what she's doing; he just has to focus on her, and remember her face and what she means to him. She wouldn't lie to him. He just needs to remember.
no subject
Quietly, she reaches, and rests her fingers on top of his arm.
"It'll be okay, Cade. We're going to make it better. And then everything will be okay."
no subject
Cade nods, even smiling a little, choosing to believe her. He can see in her face that she means it, and that's all that matters right now.