tramitem_log | ♫ every heartache will fade away

Entry tags:

♫ every heartache will fade away

Who: Lisa and Elliott
What: Lisa is not as okay as she claims to be after working herself into a panic over the implications of items somehow appearing inside a locked room; Elliott bravely volunteered to help her calm down over sugar and coffee
When: Backdated to March 28th, late-ish morning, following her freakout and subsequent meltdown on the network
Where: A Denny's vaguely between Lisa's and Elliott's homes initially; Elliott's place after a short moment
Warnings: ~~Lisa remains moderately unsteady and is liable to freak out a second time~~ Lisa freaking out a second time

Lisa will be the first to admit that she's a vain person. Her hair, her makeup, a little less so her outfit, she has a routine and she likes to stick to it. It helps center her, helps her feel like she can take on anything.

Lisa does not feel like she can take on anything today. She doesn't feel like she could take on a paper bag. Perhaps in keeping with that, she hasn't put as much effort into herself as she probably should have, and Elliott will probably notice that, but... it's very, very hard for her to feel like that's worth caring about right now. She's not visibly shaking anymore, even if she's twitching at sounds. Her hair is a little flatter, her makeup is lighter... really, Lisa's just having an off day and doesn't have the emotional energy free for that to matter much, settling on a sweater and a pair of jeans, new earrings dangling just behind her hair. She's taking a gamble anyway that Elliott will overlook all that. Whether that's actually true remains to be seen.

She's rattled. There's really no other way to put it. There's a very real risk that her home isn't safe, she's getting things from her other self now, the memories keep coming, and really it's all just a lot. She hates that she's putting Elliott through this - again, really, she'd dumped a milder breakdown on him at the library the other day. She almost felt like she was taking advantage of him, but that might be too harsh? Hard to say, especially after talking to his mother the other day. No, she's just... depending on him. A lot. Maybe too much. Ugh, now she felt even worse.

It's only a few subway stops to their agreed meeting place; she's severely early though, mostly due to not wanting to stay at home any longer. Lisa has the presence of mind not to just get a table where he might not see her when he comes in; instead, she asks for a cup of coffee and sits in the waiting area with it, letting herself sink into the cushion and attempt to unwind. It's... working? Slowly? By the time it's ten minutes to when they were supposed to meet, she's halfway through her second cup and no longer jumping at the chime of the door opening. Of course, now she's nervous for an entirely different reason, because she's hoping Elliott actually shows up and she didn't read entirely too much into things. It wouldn't be the first time. Every time the door opens, she perks up and her gaze slides over to it, then when it's not him she sinks back into the seat and gets just a tiny bit less cheery. She recognizes it's not helpful, but she's also too exhausted already to make herself stop. So she just... keeps waiting and hoping. The fact that she's a living movie cliche right now isn't lost on her, it's just not quite piercing the haze of anxiety she's stuck in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"What?" He flashes a grin, then points them over to the bus stop and takes slow steps in that direction to assure she doesn't fall too far behind. "You're not drunk or anything, Lisa. You just need to not be alone somewhere safe where you don't have to stress about keeping up an image. That's not unreliable."

Lisa makes a face; as Done with today as she is, though, it just looks like a tired girl trying to pout and instead looking like a little kid. "Elliott, I found a pair of earrings in my bedroom and I'm ha-having a nervous breakdown over it. Forget drunk, I probably look insane." But she lets him pull her toward the bus stop regardless, fishing for her pass in her handbag with nerveless fingers and eventually pulling it out after entirely too long. "I feel insane," she adds, much more quietly.

"I know," he says, expression sobering and voice going soft with a touch of resignation. It's in the strange way that the sunlight feels like it isn't real whenever he thinks about everything too long.

He'd take her hand if it wouldn't be too forward, and spends a few moments pulling out his own pass instead.

"But.. we're not alone in this, so.. we'll just stick together while we figure all this stuff out."

"If we figure it out," she adds, voice still quiet, soft as she dares. "I want to know. I do. But I also-" Lisa looks at her free hand again, still trembling, if a little more softly as just being with someone slowly starts to calm her down. "I understand m-my limitations, a little bit. You're taking your stuff a lot better than I am mine."

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Nah. It's just that I already did this, back when my mom was away on her business trip. It was hard, so that's why I want to make sure you come out of it okay."

...well, that explains some things. "Oh. Well. Shit." That just makes this whole thing seem a lot sweeter, and she smiles despite herself. "I guess I'm lucky it was you I melted down in front of, then."

Elliott half-shrugs, feeling his face heat a little, and spots the bus coming around the corner with some relief. "I'm glad if I can help. I think we're all going to deal with this sort of thing at some point, so we should look out for each other."

He boards the bus, grateful to find them a pair of seats. "My house is only a short ride away from here. It was running late when I was getting here, but it won't take long to get back."

"If I can do half as good a job as you're doing, we'll all be okay," Lisa says, letting herself return to a normal volume briefly as the bus pulls in. "I'm... not gonna say I feel better already, but even this is helping, a little." Better to be honest, at this point. He's already going out on a limb for her.

She nods at the explanation of their route from here, a bit absently; he's actually not super far from her own apartment? Somehow where he lived exactly never really came up. Hmm...

True to his word, it's a short ride. Elliott brightens when his neighborhood comes into view, and steps off the bus. He was gone for so little time that it feels like he hasn't gone anywhere at all.

"So," he says, stepping up to the door and fishing for his key. "Do you like anything in your pancakes? Mom's got a sweet tooth, so we've always got chocolate chips or.. I wonder if we have any blueberries left."

Lisa feels like she should feel bad about pulling him out of the house for the fairly short actual time they were gone, but... she's going to take the offer in the spirit given for now, as she falls in behind him, looking around the neighborhood, nerves coming back somewhat. There are a lot of doors here, and beyond that she has no idea what to expect inside.

"Um... I mean, I could do whatever, but... chocolate chip sounds nice, honestly? I did say I wanted junk food. Just not quite like this. N-not that I mind this, this is good, and- ugh, shutting up, sorry."

...being a wreck isn't helping her be any less awkward, either.

It's a bit late to rescind the offer, so Elliott resolves to make her as comfortable as possible as he pushes the door open and stands to let her inside. He quickly steps out of his shoes, then makes his way into the living room with a brief call through the apartment for his mom.

It's a small apartment, but clean and nicely enough furnished and decorated. A fish tank and small plants dot the common areas.

"Hm, guess she's out for now. Here, make yourself at home. There's a blanket here on the back of the couch already, and.. you can use this," he brandishes a small square pillow. "To hug or cry into or lay on- whatever you need. TV is all yours if you want to watch something."

Edited 2020-04-15 01:26 (UTC)

She realized it was kinda petty, but Lisa was glad Yotsuyu wasn't here right now. She liked the lady well enough, but she was already overloaded. So as they come in and Lisa looks around, crouching to unlace her boots enough to slip off, she tries hard not to let her walls all the way down when the door shuts. Elliott seems to be a bit out of his depth, which is also her fault, but that's okay. When he offers her a pillow, she laughs, accepting it with a grin. "Or, you know. All of the above. Thanks, Elliott. I'll... figure something out, I guess." Suiting actions to words, her arms wrap around it more or less immediately.

That leaves her to go back to freaking out in relative silence, sliding gently onto the couch. "I might leave the TV off - I can m-make plenty of noise on my own. Will it... be too distracting if I sing?"

Elliott brightens.

"Go for it. I'll just be in the kitchen making tea and pancakes. The bathroom is just down the hall to the right there if you need it. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"

Lisa's answering smile is a little more brittle. "Company, but I'll be... fine," she carefully answers. She's not okay and isn't going to bother trying. "Hurry back?"

...she cringes. That sounded pathetic even for the way her morning's been, but she doesn't say anything else.

Elliott pauses on his way to the kitchen, turning to glance back at her with some regret. But he'd promised pancakes and tea.

"It won't take long," he promises. "And you know where to find me if you need to. I'll be just over here."

She just waves at him, before holding the pillow tighter. "I do. I'm not s-so broken I can't walk to the next room if I can't keep it together."

Lisa is acutely aware it doesn't really work if she can't even get through the claim straight, and the wan smile on her face telegraphs that pretty clearly. So after a second to let him leave the room without her worrying him any further, she draws her knees up to her chest, gently topples over sideways onto the couch with a small whoomph, and sighs. "What a j-joke... how am I supposed to help h-him if I can't even help myself?"

...She's aware her priorities are a little, tiny bit out of order. But she can deal with being a damn mess. It's not like it's uncommon - if he hadn't offered today, she'd have just stayed in her room and screamed into the void (or her pillow again), or maybe played her guitar until her fingers... no, this is healthier, if nothing else. Probably. Even if she feels incredibly selfish. She would have if they'd stayed at the restaurant, let alone now... ugh. And none of this is helping her with the actual problem she'd spiraled over in the first place, and even though the door's closed and so are the windows, clearly that didn't stop the Bureau at her apartment, so this place might not be safe either...

...fish. Fish are nice. There's a fish tank here. Maybe there's something in it. Lisa watches the fish tank for a long moment, trying not to think, pulling the pillow closer, knuckles taut, hands still shaking. Trying to let her panic dissipate. The hot streaks down her face suggest that's not working, but at least she's not audibly bawling like an idiot, which should not be a victory but sure feels like one and why is she like this-

Should Elliott return in the next ten minutes or so, this is how he'll find Lisa, lying sideways, silently crying, staring unseeing at the fish tank, barring a loud noise that jars her sooner than that. And on that note, perhaps he should make a noise on his way in.

Elliott has the first few pancakes whipped up in only five minutes. He brings them out on a plate balanced on his spread fingertips like some sort of grand offering.

"Presenting the worst pan-" But then he catches sight of her, and all of his confidence drains out of him. "Lisa!"

He moves more swiftly into the living room, the plate clattering onto the coffee table in his rush to kneel in front of the couch and check on her.

Elliott reaches out to move some of her hair out of her face, then stops short and drops his hand to the couch cushion instead. He doesn't know what to do, and can only anxiously watch her tears fall.

"Hey, I- sorry, I- what- what can I do?"

Admittedly she'd have been super impressed in any other state of mind; clearly she should have started with this, the service speed is incredible. But no, this is what Elliott has to work with, and while she twitches at the sound of his voice, and startles fully back to herself at the sound of her name, she sucks in a breath and scoots back as he reaches toward her. "N-no, I-"

It's a few seconds before she pulls herself back under control, though control is probably not the right word. She sees his hand in front of her but not reaching for her, and she calms down from the high she'd been on briefly. "Sorry. Sorry. I sh-should have. Said something. I don't know why I'm-" -like this, she doesn't finish but assumes, probably incorrectly, will be understood.

Instead, she focuses on him, voice soft, after she gives herself a second to organize her thoughts. "You were right. I d-don't know what I would have done if I'd..." Bleh. For a singer she sure can't communicate worth a damn. "Please don't... don't touch me. Not while I'm like this. I freak out." Worse than I'm already doing to you. "Sorry. It's not you. I'll... soon, but not now."

...the smell of pancakes reaches her then, and something in her uncoils. "Um. That smells delicious?" It sounds lame, even to her, and she's felt pretty lame for the last few minutes already. So she tries to smile at him to assure him it's honest, but it probably looks weird, especially while she's still crying, and she has no idea how emotions work right now anyway, she's everything at once. "I feel like a mess. In every s-sense of the word. Just... stay with me? I-if it's safe?" She means if the stove's off, but she can't help her eyes twitching toward the door briefly.

"Okay," he says, guilt clawing up his throat with a will to offer more apologies. He shouldn't have left her, should know better than to try and touch her.

"Yeah. Yeah, they're for you." Elliott reaches behind him for the plate and offers it out to her, then follows her gaze to the door. Maybe he should text his mom and try to ask her how her errands are going to gauge whether or not he needs to ask her not to come home or not.

"You're safe," he assures, then stands. "I'm just going to go shut the burners off, then I'll be straight back."

A lie as it turns out, as he stops to grab syrup from the fridge on his way back. But he does return in under a minute and a half. He sets the syrup on the coffee table, then decides to sit on the floor against the arm of the couch. He drapes his arms over his knees and tips his head back to meet her eyes.

"There. Now, I'll stay right here, okay?

Edited 2020-04-16 00:24 (UTC)

You're safe. Lisa almost believes that. Really, really wants to, but then she also knows a sword magically appeared inside this very apartment the same way her other's earrings had. She shivers again. But then again, Elliott also now had a sword, if something dumb should indeed happen. It wasn't... ideal, but he just had to look threatening and no, Lisa, you can't ask your friend to look threatening because you're scared out of your mind-

She gasps without thinking, shaking her head hard. "Dammit, I n-need to stop spiraling. Go ahead. I'll keep for that long." It's rougher, but that seems as much to force herself to focus as anything. She takes a deep breath, slaps her cheeks lightly, and takes a long whiff of the fluffy wonder in front of her. For being the world's worst, they look and smell surprisingly edible, and her assessment of Elliott moves up another notch - not just blowing smoke to get her moving, then. Sure, it'd been pre-made, he'd said, but even that could still be burned.

When Elliott returns a moment later, Lisa's condition hasn't worsened - indeed, she's sitting up now, pillow set aside. Her hands are fisted in her lap, but it's progress. Something in her is distantly disappointed he sits on the floor, but most of her is relieved, even as she hates feeling it. She manages a ghost of a proper smile, finally. "Okay. Thank you. S-sorry."

...she's got to stop apologizing but she can't keep the words off her lips. What a mess.

He manages a smile. "It's okay."

Elliott pulls out his phone then, and taps through to the network, then scrolls. "Here, there's something someone on the network said to help me when I was freaking out, let me see if I can find it.."

After a few minutes of scrolling, he finds it. "Here we go. So it was 'name 5 things you can see' with a deep breath between them. Helps to identify your reality. There's a few more steps with your other senses, too."

While he looks, Lisa figures she'll eat her pancakes before they go cold; critically acclaimed worst in the world or not, he'd worked hard and bothered to bring her here, to a nominally safe place, for them, so the least she could do would be to try and enjoy them. That would be easier if her hands were steady; after making a face at them, she takes a long, deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, eyes closed for a second, and while she doesn't exactly feel calmer, it's enough that the shaking's settled, more or less. Deciding not to risk the actually sharp thing, she just pours some syrup on top and cuts them with her fork, leaning over the plate so she doesn't drip everywhere - she's visiting, it'd be terrible to leave a mess on top of being a mess.

...she chews slowly, and blinks. They're actually not even too bad, and now that she's had a bite, she's hungry despite herself. "You make good terrible pancakes," she observes softly, before returning her attention to them. She can feel that something inside her loosening a little more, between Elliott's quiet presence and just being able to relax for a second without her thoughts pressing in on her. It's enough that, when he gets her attention again a minute or two later, she calmly sets her fork down and manages to not shake or jump or anything, to her surprise.

The method itself, though, is a bit surprising. Still, worth a try. She'll take anything if it works. It almost sounds like the kind of thing you'd use if you're dissociating or something... which doesn't sound that far off the mark. The strangeness of the exercise makes her tone a little tight. "Um. Pancakes." Deep breath in, slow out. "Pillow." Deep breath in, slow out. "Fish tank." Despite half this stuff being connected to her being a ball of tension a minute ago, she's feeling... okay-ish now? "Fork." She sounds calmer, too, a lot less wound up than she'd been. "You." Deep breath in, and as she lets it out this time, she smiles, more warmly than she's managed today. "Okay, that's... kinda better. I can think straight, and that's a really good start."

Elliott grins back at her, weirdly warmed that one of her 'objects' was himself. And she likes his pancakes.

"Thanks. There's a few more if you wanted," he says, looking back at his phone to read off of. "'Four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste'. Some sort of therapy thing Anakin told me about. I'm glad it's helping."

"I don't think it counts if most of that other stuff will be things from the first list, but... I'll remember that, if this comes up again, and thank him for sure," Lisa answers gently, shaking her head softly. "If, not when. I'm gonna try and be at least a little positive."

She's quiet a few seconds, taking another bite of her pancakes. She feels... not perfect, but better. "So, now that I can talk straight, let me try again. Thank you, Elliott, for inviting me into your home and putting up with my temporary insanity. I appreciate it."

"You're okay," he assures, tucking his phone away. He settles back against the armrest and shifts a bit until his spine rests more comfortably. "This is just a lot to deal with for anyone. You can come over for tea and pancakes anytime you want."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject