TABULA RASA / WORM & DISCO ELYSIUM CROSSOVER
Summary: When Taylor gave up, she didn't break so much as crumble.
OR: After the locker happens, a young amnesiac girl wakes up in the psych ward with only two dozen voices to make her company.
CHAPTER 1.
“YOU WAKE UP AND CHOOSE VIOLENCE”
The hum of fluorescent lighting. Sterile sheets. A dry throat and pain like sandpaper across every nerve.
You blink once. The ceiling is off-white. You blink again.
You do not know your name.
LITTLE OWL — Wake up, wake up, wake up, they locked you in the dark, and then, like mommy and daddy too… But we messed it up and we didn't die…
DR. HEARTACHE — Hush. You're safe for now, stay calm. Breathe in, out. Good. You're waking up.
RELENTLESS DETERMINATOR — You were buried in something, and your body remembers it, even if your mind doesn't. The why or how doesn't matter, anyways. Get up.
You sit up slowly. A heart monitor beeps. IV line in one arm. No sign of visitors. Just the rhythmic beep, beep, beep.
No flowers. No cards. No one is waiting. Alone.
GHOST IN THE MACHINE [Medium: Success] — This is a hospital. North American general layout, searching… Extrapolating information indicating it's on the East Coast. That needle taped to your arm? IV fluids, saline.
FUTURE ROADKILL [Trivial: Success] — We've been given the fuckin' good stuff. They're trying to keep you down, girlie! Hm, it feels like Haldol and something else. When's the next dose, anyways? Who the fuck cares what kinda juicy, puckered asshole we were when the hospital is treating us this good?
Despite not knowing what happened or even why, you feel scared.
You had the deeply uncomfortable sense that this drug was like an unstoppable black hole.
Why are you in a hospital? Why were you given medication to keep you sedated?
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — This is nothing to be afraid of, dear. Just get up, we'll help you fix everything, one thing at a time. Don't be afraid. Ignore that crass man.
You try to move, but suddenly feel something tug at your wrist.
It was soft, but also simultaneously very sturdy.
What was it?
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Trivial: Success] — Use your eyes, dummy. You're strapped down to a hospital bed, and they've given us a via intramuscular injection of haldol. You know what that means, right?
JACOB — It means we should get these off!
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Formidable: Failure] — Wait- What? I guess you're right… After all, for what possible reason would they strap down a young girl?
That's right.
You didn't know much of anything, but you felt like you knew at least that only dangerous people were restrained.
You didn't feel very dangerous… You should get these off.
Thinking that, you started tugging harshly on the soft wrist restraints, but despite their softness, they felt so tough for the strength of a young girl who'd been unconscious for who knows how long.
For a moment, you thought you'd just give up and wait for the nurse to come back but—
RELENTLESS DETERMINATOR [Trivial: Success] — No.
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU [Easy: Success] — No!
TOWER OF ENDURANCE [Medium: Success] — No.
—you broke them.
Suddenly, you found yourself standing in a wrinkled hospital gown, with slightly wobbly legs and a pair of teared-apart wrist straps tied to your hands still.
SELF-CONFIDENT NIHILIST — Well, yes. We won't certainly be the most graceful person in the room, though. That just can't stand, ha! Get the joke?
You look down at your slightly wobbly legs, and for some reason, you wanted to ask the smart voice earlier of a movie about a fawn.
Thinking about it, why do you even have voices in your head? Why would someone-
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] — Focus!
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT [Easy: Success] — Look, there's a whiteboard besides the bed. What's that?
GHOST IN THE MACHINE [Medium: Failure] — W-Well, I tried to look it up but there's nothing. Maybe it's a new contraption, created while we were asleep? Anyways, go and read what it is..!
Following the voices' commands, you walk towards the whiteboard.
It has a lot of information.
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT — Alright, we're close enough now, let me just…
═══════────═══════────══════════════────═══════────══════
Brockton Bay General Hospital – Psychiatric Unit
January 4, 2011.
Psych 3-B
Patient Information
Name: Taylor Hebert
DOB: June 12, 1995
Age: 15
Diet: Regular
Allergies: None reported
Precautions:
Fall risk
Self-harm risk
Psychiatric Observation Level 1 (Unconscious)
Primary Concern: Suspected acute psychotic episode.
Status on Arrival: Arrived during mental health crisis with minor physical injuries (contusions/superficial lacerations)
Consciousness: Unconscious x 3 days
Physical Restraints: Yes – soft wrist restraints in use (precautionary until assessment possible)
Care Team
Attending Psychiatrist: Dr. Alana Reyes
Pediatrician: Dr. Mark Iseri
RN Today: Emily Chau
Charge Nurse: Anthony Hall
Today's Plan / Goals
Monitor vitals q4h
Maintain IV fluids & nutrition
Neurologist consult (pending imaging review)
Evaluate for underlying medical causes of altered consciousness
Begin psych evaluation when patient regains consciousness
Family / Emergency Contact
Parents: Deceased
Kinship Foster Parent(s):
Lacey Kingsley
Communication Notes
Preferred Name: Unknown
Language: English
Interpreter: Not needed
Pain Scale: Unable to assess
Observation: Continuous video & in-person q15 checks.
═══════────═══════────══════════════────═══════────══════
EVERYONE — [ … ]
JACOB — (not sounding very contrite at all) Oh dear, this is a rather unfortunate set of circumstances.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM — Unfortunate? You, little conniving bitch, tricked us! We were already a known crazie, now that we broke out of our restraints, they're gonna make them even worse!
DR. HEARTACHE — An acute psychotic episode can be a one-time occurrence, usually of sudden onset, or can occur repeatedly, or it may be the early phase of chronic psychosis. It can occur following an adverse life event (e.g. loss, acute stress or trauma)... Child, what did they do to you?
You ignored the voices' escalating argument, as you read through the whiteboard information.
Apparently your name was
Taylor Hebert.
T-A-Y-L-O-R
H-E-B-E-R-T
It felt like a piece of you slotting in its place.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — The surname Hébert is of French origin, meaning "son of" or "descendant of Herbert". Herbert, in turn, is a French version of the Germanic name, composed of the elements "heri" (army) and "berht" (bright, famous). Therefore, Hébert ultimately signifies "bright army" or "illustrious warrior". It's a nice last name, your parents must've been good people.
Your father and mother were Hebert too.
Mother, deceased.
Father, deceased.
Reading those words makes you want to start sobbing.
JACOB — Well, I hate to rain on your parade but we do need to do something about this. How about we ask around? I'm sure I can help you charm the pants off the doctors, easy peasy.
THE WINGED ONE [Easy: Success] — That doesn't sound very smart. Just think about it, we don't have any parents, we are alone and kept drugged out supposedly for our own ‘safety’, who's to say they won't just lock us up? Who'd fight for us once they do that and throw away the key?
Distrust of authorities comes to you maybe a bit too easily, as the argument thoroughly sways you.
That's right.
Who'd fight for us, now that our family is gone?
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM — We literally just read the file say we have a foster parent. Am I the only literate one here?
JACOB — [Stirring shit] Well, who's to say it's a good foster parent? Maybe they're the reason we even ended up having a something something psychosis.
Those were both good arguments.
On one hand, you could put your fate on the hands of the hospital and trust that your foster parent knew and wanted the best for your sake—
RELENTLESS DETERMINATOR — Are we crazy? … Nevermind that, anyways, let's go and see which floor we are on.
Indeed, the only real option was to take things into your own hands.
And with that decision firmly in hand, you walked towards the locked window, trying to visualize your fall like one might recreate a crime scene.
HARBINGER OF ARITHMETIC [Formidable: Failure] — Well, we're on the fourth floor and a fall would definitely break something. What more do you need to know to realize this isn't a good course of action? Think about what facts you have and how much you're just imagining.
TOWER OF ENDURANCE — Except we're made of sterner material. I can help you live through the fall, but the window is locked and made of reinforced glass, breaking it would alert the hospital staff. How are you going to deal with that first?
That was true.
Ignoring Harbinger's way too logical words, while you were lost and barely even knew your name, the other people here knew more about you than you did, and could likely easily track you down through unknown means.
Even more so if you made a giant ruckus by breaking the reinforced window and then jumping off the 4th floor.
How could you open this thing when the only thing you had on you was a hospital gown and IV drip?
GHOST IN THE MACHINE [Challenging: Failure] Sorry… I don't know how to break the law. Maybe you could help us? [poke at something in the dark]
EFFICIENCY PROTOCOL — [looking around awkwardly] Maybe if we had a bobby pin and at least ten minutes of practice. As it is, the clock says it's been four minutes and thirteen seconds since we woke up, and the whiteboard says they check on us every fifteen. It'd be a most useless waste of our time.
SELF-DECEIVING TRAITOR — How about we just walk out, Taylor? No need to overcomplicate things, sweetheart. If you act like you belong, no one will think you don't.
That was certainly an option, though one you doubted you could pull off, especially because-
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Trivial: Success] — And just how are you planning to act your way out of showing half our ass in this hospital gown and the shredded restraints still tied to our wrists? Dumbass.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — Enough! You're all just like children. Bickering and wasting our precious time! Now, let it speak!
EVERYONE — [ ? ]
DIRTY GLASS WINDOW — Oh boy, I was wondering when I'd get a chance to speak! Don't you dare break me!
EVERYONE — [ ?? ]
GHOST IN THE MACHINE [Medium: Failure] — There's no known psychological precedent for a window providing tactical insight, but we're here now… Maybe this is normal after all.
DIRTY GLASS WINDOW — This is normal. All people can speak. Why can't a window be ‘people’ too?
That was very true, you couldn't help but be convinced by this very fact-driven argument.
You blink at the talking window. Then again. The dirt and dust have gathered in subtle patterns that almost, almost, form a face. A twisted smiling mask, but nonetheless a face.
And with that, you stood besides your new friend and listened.
DIRTY GLASS WINDOW — You don't have to lockpick or break my precious glass. I've got you a sweet deal: just clean me with some water or whatever and a clean rag, and I'll unlock the latch for you, no biggie.
JACOB [Easy: Success] — You've got yourself a deal, champ! How about you even throw in some info about the streets around the hospital? That's only fair.
DIRTY GLASS WINDOW — [Gullible] Sure!
That was a very good deal indeed, it could be done in under ten minutes, and you pretty much had all the tools at hand.
Plus, info on what's around the hospital and knowing where to hide when needed was extra helpful.
SPITEFUL COWARD — SO. Are we finally escaping? Hurry the fuck up! Rip a corner of the blanket to use as a rag. The nurse's coming, I can feel his breath on my neck!
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT [Medium: Success] — Nurse Hall left a purified water bottle at the corner of the cabinet. Probably in a hurry. We can use that.
TOWER OF ENDURANCE — ██████, come help.
WALKING ORDNANCE DEPOT — On it, ma'am!
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU — Don't keep me waiting too long, woman.
With the help of the three voices, you found yourself frantically cleaning the Dirty Glass Window like the world's least qualified window cleaner.
DECENTLY CLEAN GLASS WINDOW — Wooo! That's what we're here for! Thanks, darling. This is the cleanest I've been since inauguration day!
With a quiet clack the window's slightly rusty latch obediently opened.
It was only now that you noticed it was night, a chilling wind entered the hospital room, making you slightly shiver.
DR. HEARTACHE — Take the rest of the blanket and wrap it around you, it's going to be cold outside.
DECENTLY CLEAN GLASS WINDOW — As promised, here's the information: This is Brockton Bay General Hospital. It's right between the border of The Docks South and the so-called Downtown. The hospital has its own little ecosystem around it, with shops set up to provide meals or offer shower and laundry service for the hospital patients' visitors. That is to say, you could probably raid a second-hand store nearby if you're quick enough. It is no Boardwalk.
You listened to it, and in your mind a little map of this city ‘Brockton Bay’ that you were a part of started to form.
The wind slithers in through the open window like a whisper from some forgotten dream. It tastes of sea salt and smog and faint promises of freedom.
You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Hospital white. A little too thin.
SPITEFUL COWARD — Hurry up, you imbecile! Now's not the time to get all poetic!
THE WOMAN WITH THE HAT [Trivial: Success] — There’s no one in the hallway yet. But time is not your friend. Neither is gravity. React fast, or don't react at all. Jump.
You grip the frame of the window, eyes flicking downward. Four floors. An alleyway below. A dumpster squats there like some stinking sentry. You don’t know if it’s full or empty.
Doesn’t matter.
WALKING ORDNANCE DEPOT — [Medium: Success] There’s a maintenance ledge just beneath the window. Half a meter wide, steel support bracket visible… Probably bolted in. Looks weathered, but solid enough. We can do it.
RELENTLESS DETERMINATOR — Good. Plant a foot. Lower slowly. Don’t hesitate now. You made your choice.
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU — C'mon, faster, girl! I refuse to get caught at the starting line because you were too slow!
DECENTLY CLEAN GLASS WINDOW — [muffled] Remember to visit me when you become famous..!!
You swing a leg through. Cold air bites at your skin. The soles of your feet protest as they touch the cold metal. You crouch.
You start edging sideways. One hand gripping the wall, one on the window frame, heart slamming in your ribs like a trapped bird.
Silently, you start making your way down like a particularly large squirrel.
Once you're low enough, you drop and brace yourself for the brief fall.
And then—
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT [Challenging: Failure] — Oh. Everyone, I'm sorry but…
A man in a security uniform ambles below. Fat, bored, coffee in one hand. Keys on his belt, flashlight hanging loose. Not looking up.
But then you drop down like a deranged bat.
The slothful security guard and you look at each other for a second.
EVERYONE — [ … ]
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU [Easy: Success] — [Muscle and sinew crackle as you get ready for the incoming fight] This was inevitable, after all. If you're gonna fight, you have to win. Beat him up. One punch and that slob is down. Go.
SPITEFUL COWARD [Trivial: Success] — [Fear, Fight or Flight, you choose fight] I just knew that guy would mess up, I should've been in charge of the escape plan! It's in my literal name!
FUTURE ROADKILL [Easy: Success] — [Your adrenal glands tickle] Let's fucking gooooo, this shit was getting boring!
THE WOMAN WITH THE HAT — It starts with the shoulder. Always the shoulder. A slow tectonic grind beneath the skin, rolling power down the arm like thunder moving across a battlefield of meat and bone. Punch.
Before the security guard could swallow his sip of coffee and yell about an escaped patient, you knocked him unconscious.
DR. HEARTACHE — Well, I think you all were maybe a bit too ready for violence. Maybe we should put him against the wall or somewhere people can see him soon, it's cold.
JACOB — You kidding? If we do that, they're going to find out even sooner where we went or how we escaped. Let's rob this guy blind! He must have some money on him.
Isn't stealing wrong?
You don't know a lot of things, but come to think about it, you have a faint memory of someone you called “mommy” telling you that.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — Well… Yes. Objectively speaking, it is. But you're an amnesiac orphan, for now, it's okay. Focus on how you can survive in the present, Taylor.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Easy: Success] — Let's see… 4 $20 bills and 1 $5 bill. That's… we're still broke, but it's a start. Look, he also had a baton, a holster for the baton, notepad, pen, an old pepper spray, a flashlight, and his phone on him. I already unlocked it, since he obviously used his birthday on the ID as password.
JACOB — Take his phone and we pawn it off somewhere for good buck!
That also sounded like a good idea. You didn't know a lot about phones, since, for some reason, holding one made you deeply uncomfortable, but any advanced piece of technology must be expensive, and thus, it'd be worth at least something.
You were getting a bit hungry.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Easy: Success] — If I'm not mistaken (which I never are) then phones come with a tracking function, idiot. Do you want them to find us?
EFFICIENCY PROTOCOL [Medium: Success] — (Snatching phone away) Let me confirm. Hm… Hm… Hm. No, it was manual and he didn't have that set up. We're good, stealing procedures undertaken… Let's go.
SPITEFUL COWARD — Are you all dumbasses really stopping to mug this guy in the middle of us breaking out of the hospital holding us hostage!?
JACOB — Hey, hey, hey. Calm. No one's coming here yet. In fact, I'd advocate to rob this guy's clothing too but I'm guessing the doctor here wouldn't be too crazy over that, would you?
DR. HEARTACHE — You'd be right.
JACOB — Gotcha. Anyways, we're done here for now kid. Time to pack up! Up, up, everyone!
THE WINGED ONE — Maybe we should leave him a little note, maybe he won't be mad if we put sticky note on his forehead saying 'I'm sorry'
JACOB — I agree! We're so smart.
Was that something you should do?
THE WINGED ONE — Of course. It's what a polite fellow would do.
Well, if so...
SPITEFUL COWARD — I hate you all.
Now you were an obvious hospital escapee, shoeless and half-ass still out (well, covered by a ripped thin hospital blanket), except you had a way-too-big duty belt wrapped twice around your waist, containing pepper spray, a flashlight, a baton, and your (also) stolen phone.
Can't forget the stylish shredded wrist restraints around your wrists.
On the unconscious security guard's forehead, there was a slightly wrinkled sticky note, written with a slightly wobbly hand:
SELF-CONFIDENT NIHILIST — Our drip can, fortunately, surely only go up from here!
It was, as you had noticed before, night. Thankfully, aside from the tired security guard you had just forcefully sent to Dreamland, there was nothing else—
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT [Medium: Success] — (really wanting to make up for last mistake) There's a camera if we go that way, let's go behind the dumpster and then climb the fence, we should be out by then.
Indeed, after that voice pointed it out, you noticed a beat-up security camera, which made you promptly turn around to where the voice told you.
Said fence was a rather tall thing, probably to further discourage the very thing you were just about to do.
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU [Easy: Success] — Hmph. Leave this to me.
Were humans supposed to be this sturdy and strong? Or were you just special somehow?
Wasn't that just fiction?
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Formidable: Failure] — I truly don't think we've done anything out of the ordinary, Taylor. And I'd notice it, if we did.
SELF-DECEIVING TRAITOR — You're such a stiff. Taylor's clearly special! On this world's stage, she's the protagonist! How can't you see it? Do you even have eyes!?
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM — Oh, do shut up, idiot. I bet you even think you're the smartest, prettiest—
You hear something like a loud THUD! and muffled screaming.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — Moving on… To be honest, dear, we don't know enough yet to say for sure. Does it matter if you're normal or special? What's important is surviving, let's get you some clothes and then hopefully some food for you, then we can think about that.
You went up and down the fence, and found yourself as a lonely, amnesiac girl dressed in rags.
Where to go, where to go…
JACOB — Let's stick to the dark alleys. We may look too fabulous for the streets just yet. Plus, if anyone tries to rob us, we can counter-rob them, getting more money! It's a win-win.
The streets of Brockton Bay were very lonely at night; only broken with the occasional late-night food stall and 24/7 convenience stores.
It was January, and even though it wasn't currently snowing, it still felt cold. Very cold.
RELENTLESS DETERMINATOR [Formidable: Success] — Compared to what you're going to have to live through, this little chill is nothing.
TOWER OF ENDURANCE [Challenging: Success] — We can keep going. Walk.
And so, you indeed kept walking.
Finally, after probably ten minutes of wandering that had you seriously consider the pros and cons of mugging someone out of their clothes, you found yourself in front of a second-hand clothes store.
The sign is an eye-searing neon and flickering in a way you subconsciously find very cliché.
Shaking your head as if you physically chase away your thoughts, you decide to enter.
Only to meet your greatest foe yet—
The door.
It won't open.
DRAGON OF KYŪSHU — We can always just destroy it, don't get your panties in a twist.
You don't think you even have those on.
JACOB — [Shit stirring] I agree. Let's even make a ruckus and scream about how they're being classist against us, how 'bout it?
For the same reason you didn't want to break the glass window in the hospital, you didn't want to break this door.
Especially since you saw what you vaguely remembered being called a ‘cashier’ manning the counter.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Trivial: Success] — [Crawling out from the punishment corner] Do I have to point out the fact it says PUSH, not PULL?
Observing the door more carefully, you realized that it was the truth.
A chime rings out, old and cracked like the voice of a dying god. Finally, you step inside.
Ah, finally some good, nice warmth.
Time to bundle up.
SELF-CONFIDENT NIHILIST — The lights are too yellow. The carpet’s too beige. The air smells like mildew and someone else’s memories. Welcome to second-hand limbo, baby!
SELF-DECEIVING TRAITOR — Ugh, everything's here a decade out of style, but I suppose it's a start.
SPITEFUL COWARD — Nevermind that, stop dawdling and get to clothes shopping, that cashier is going to call the cops, they won't come soon or eagerly, but they will.
CONNAISSEUR OF THE FIRMAMENT [Medium: Success] — The cashier is wearing glasses. In the reflection of the glasses, you can see them trying to contact someone on their phone even when they act like they didn't see us.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM [Medium: Success] — This place is approximately 1100 square feet. No security. One cashier. Three cameras — two dummy, one real but unmonitored. Floorplan matches most northeastern resale shops circa 2000–2010. Low threat environment.
The ceiling tiles are water-stained, like someone bled rust into the plaster. Shelves sag under the weight of too many forgotten sweaters. Somewhere, a radio croaks out Fleetwood Mac’s “Gypsy.”
Despite the hurry, you feel comfortable, amidst these forgotten things.
You shuffle inside, carefully avoiding the real camera that the voice told you about. The bell over the door jangles a second time as it closes behind you.
The cashier is still pretending you don't exist.
DR. HEARTACHE — She isn't as apathetic as she looks… See that? Her fingers are trembling, she feels scared of you. What sort of city is this Brockton Bay, where someone is clearly attentive enough to be scared of someone like us entering yet still refusing to react?
You move like a ghost, feet silent on the stained linoleum, the belt around your waist jangling quietly with purloined plastic. The racks stretch out before you — cotton graveyards. Denim mausoleums.
JACOB — Let's look for some white button-ups, those are always classy!
SKELETON KING — (Suddenly appearing) I agree.
JACOB — Ugh. Where did you even come from? Now I don't want it.
THE WOMAN WITH THE HAT — Do not forget the hat, though.
There were a ton of clothes and options to choose from, and despite having nothing (or maybe because of that reason), you didn't even know what to choose.
Especially with the rest of the voices bickering over what ‘drip’ to choose:
SELF-DECEIVING TRAITOR — … -nd like I was telling you, we need those red high heels above all else, I just know we have killer le—
Another loud ‘THUD!’ and then the sound of someone choking.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — Now no one will get any drip! I shall dress her!
You were glad for the voice interfering, as you were now lost on whether high-heels were or not incredibly crucial to your survival after hearing a minute long argument between everyone.
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR — First, grab that backpack. It will do. Then, grab that beanie and then—
With the voice's help, you grabbed a green beanie, a pair of leggings to help with the cold, then slightly baggy black pants over those, a burgundy turtle-neck shirt, a thick trench-coat, a lilac scarf with purple and magenta flowers.
And the greatest find: a pair of dirty white sneakers that actually fit you!
You dressed in the « DRESSING ROOM » thing the voices told you about, and afterwards, made sure to put the pepper spray, money, flashlight, phone, notepad & pen, and baton in the trench coat pockets
With a bit more of carefulness, you could even fully take off the shredded wrist restraints.
Then you turned around, and found yourself staring at a teenage girl.
It was you.
LITTLE OWL — How did she put it again? Limbs too gangly. Stick thin. Thin lips. Wide mouth. Large eyes. We look like a big owl now, mom.
SELF-CONFIDENT NIHILIST — I mean, the clothes don't help for sure, but you don't look bad. It's a bit cute in an avant-garde way. It's all about chutzpah, darling. Chin up, walk like you mean it!
SELF-DECEIVING TRAITOR — [muffled] We once played dress up too...
You didn't know what to think.
DR. HEARTACHE — Somewhere inside you, something uncomfortably close to self-loathing wells up.
But why?
Was this due to your lost memories?
You didn't think you looked… that… bad, why would you hate yourself?
Why would you feel such dissatisfaction upon seeing your face?
Why did the memories make your heart hurt?
Why did they
always
poke
at
your
insecurities?
[DAMAGED MORALE -1]
AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR [Challenging: Success] — STOP.
It was only then that you realized you were grabbing your head and heaving, your throat felt constricted and you felt like you were seeing the world through a fish-eye lens-
DR. HEARTACHE [Medium: Success] — You were having a panic attack, sweetheart. Breathe in, out. Don't think about that for now, follow my instructions, yes, good. Put everything else inside the backpack.
Almost robotically, you went through the motions of stuffing the other clothes (apparently, according to the voices, having more than one set was crucial into not stinking) into your canvas backpack. The ragged blanket went in too, and your hospital gown did, too, to avoid leaving evidence in the scene of your soon-to-be crime.
By the time you were done, you felt just a little less cracked inside.
JACOB — HM. So. As always, I don't mean to interrupt, but we better get out of dodge. You all, uh, do remember this gal was sneakily calling the police, right?
GHOST IN THE MACHINE [Trivial: Success] — The police in Brockton Bay are notoriously slow to respond. Looking through social media logs, it's a common consensus that they take approximately 30 minutes to arrive anywhere if they do at all, unless a particular set of circumstances are met, which were only hinted at but our situation definitely doesn't, anyways.
SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM — With that in consideration, let's still get out of here ASAP, Taylor. Remember to avoid the angle of the one working camera.
SELF-CONFIDENT NIHILIST [Challenging: Failure] — You don't swagger as you step out of the thrift store dripped out of your mind, and in fact, stumble on the door threshold… We'll never recover those cool points. At least you still avoided the camera, though.
Both the cashier and you carefully avoided eye-contact with each other as you caught your fall with the door handle and then speed-walked out of the thrift store with a furious, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.
As you walked for a few more minutes, now looking just like a girl who shouldn't be out alone so late instead of a crazy hospital escapee, you finally realized you didn't actually know where you were going.
You looked up.
The moon…
It looked so bright and beautiful.
You suddenly feel a shiver; like a centipede crawling into your spine and entering your neocortex.
EARTH-BET — WELCOME, ██████. Welcome back. Welcome back home.
The wind suddenly picked up, and for that moment, it was like the only person in this world was you.
Just you, a person named Taylor, staring at the moon, wondering why your heart suddenly felt heavy, like a stone dropping from a great height.
CHAPTER 1, end.
Author Note:
If TR! Taylor's life was an Episode game:
You must trust in authorities to want the best for you. Do you:
Put your trust in them and go back to the bed (pay 200 gems)
Jump off the 4th floor window
Assault a security guard on your way out of the psych ward
Taylor & Co didn't think about the cold/exposure when leaving that security guard unconscious and on the ground, but the man did also have a walkie talkie that they missed, a few minutes later at the regular check-in it was noticed that the guy wasn't there anymore and so he was quickly discovered, with the sticky note still on, after being assaulted by a deranged amnesiac 15 years old psych ward escaped. Being a sec guard in BB is suffering.
What's everyone's guess on the voices that appeared in this chapter?
I just have 2 more chapters, but honestly idk if I will continue this or if so, continue posting them here, mostly because I'm doing everything on phone and editing Tumblr posts on phone makes my wrist ache fiercely because it's;;;;;; SO WONKY /cries
