etraya | un: henry123

[ He gives general directions. ]

I'd say the door have my name on it, but it's resting on the inside wall.

It seems like a unique abode that is easy to find with that doorway.

[True to his word, Vander arrived with a fabric bag of tools over his shoulder and found the room without an issue. The whole 'missing door' was a dead giveaway that he was in the right place.

He knocked on the door frame to announce himself before taking a step inside and looking around. He only had a few apartments to compare this one too, but thankfully for him, the walls did not appear to be flesh nor bleeding, melting or disintegrating.]

Can I come in?

[ Henry involuntarily tilts his head away at the message - more agreement that it is probably easier to find his place than others. It takes him a second to realize (or decide, really) he should reply: ]

Yeah.

[ His mouth twists equally involuntarily. I could have given a better response. He says that he's better texting than he is speaking but it's only marginally.

One of the many negatives to not having a door is knowing someone is visiting and not being able to just casually wait in the living room. Casually waiting for him is mostly just sitting on the couch and staring blankly at the wall ahead of him. Henry realizes that would come off as odd so went to "hide" in the bedroom until he heard the knock on the door frame.

Heading down to the front door, he replies: ]

Sure. [ A small nod. His eyes drift to the side before turning to Vander's face. ] Hello.

[Vander peered inside and tilted his head when his eyes landed on Henry. He glanced around as if expecting to see some faint specter that was tormenting the man but instead simply saw a brunette trying with every fiber of his being to look comfortable.

He shifted his sack of tools off of his shoulder as he walked into the apartment further, looking around that the decor, if there was any. He then gave Henry a considering once over.]

Nice to meet you face-to-face, Henry. Is that door off for a quick escape or someone played a prank on you?

[ His eyes roll up to the ceiling, pausing to think of an answer. It's a second later that he thinks the question is probably a joke - an icebreaker. His chin drops slightly in a moment of embarrassment, but he drifts his gaze back toward the door.

Enough silence has passed that he needs to say something. ]

It's nice to meet you, too. [ His eyebrows come together. I should have said that right away. ] Anyway... the door's gone just... so that it can't be locked, again. [ The corner of his mouth twitches before he shrugs his shoulders. ]

I'll put it back if I ever move to somewhere else.

[Oh geez, this guy was something else. Vander was back to being uncertain if Henry was high on some kind of substance, and he wasn't currently close enough to detect if that was true. Or maybe there was a history of use and these were the long-term effects.

Regardless, he put a warm inviting smile on his face.] You don't like being locked in, hmm? I can understand that.

[He moved to casually lean against the nearby wall, crossing his arms over his chest.]

You must have some people dropping in on you unannounced, yeah? No door is basically an open invitation where I'm from.

Yeah.

[ It's a casual agreement to what's said and acknowledging that Vander understands. ]

Not really. [ People are pretty polite about not coming into an apartment with the door removed. He wonders if maybe they worry about him, but that can't be it. ] People are ... they're all right.

[ He brings his hands together, interlaces his fingers; he feels that's an awkward pose so drops his hands back down to his sides. Shifting, he pauses to glance out the door then out the window.

His eyes drop back down. I don't know what else to say. ]

Oh well, if we get on, that might change unless you tell me specifically that you'd prefer I not.

[Vander was not afraid to just wander into places to people that he knew, unless they specifically requested their own privacy. It had worked well for him so far, and he had built some very meaningful relationships with his antics.]

Are you... seeing ghosts in here, or are we alone?

[This young man was so awkward and Vander was feeling bad for him already. Well, it was fine. He had hard-carried conversations before and this seemed like it would be interesting in the end.]

I probably won't.

[ And also Henry feels it is a big "if" they get on. Not so much that he doesn't think Vander is a nice person, because he seems like he is; he just is aware of how bad he is at carrying on conversations or knowing when the conversation is over. ]

No. There's no ghosts here. [ He, at least, can answer that one relatively fast. ] We're alone. [ Henry decides to add if that's not clear. Pointing to the walls, he thinks to explain what it would look like if the ghosts appeared but his arm drops. ]

You would be able to tell if they were here.

You're a pretty easy going fella then.

[Unfortunately for Henry, Vander could carry the conversation of two people all by himself if he needed to, or even do so while alone. He had spent a lifetime learning about people and even the most awkward person needed friends or at least a few people who just showed up unannounced to drag them around for socialization.]

Would I? [He looked to the walls as indicated by Henry. They looked very normal, average walls to his eyes.] You mean that if they were hear, the walls would turn to flesh like you wrote?

Maybe.

[ Is it being easy-going or is it just not wanting to bother? He sometimes isn't sure; he does know that there is a difference between the two. His backbone might not be much to talk about, but he wonders if that is what makes a person easy to get along with.

His mouth twists slightly in thought.

He isn't sure. ]

And yeah. [ A short nod. It'd be obvious if there were ghosts around. Actually -- his head cants to the side -- did Cynthia and the others see the ghosts? Richard saw the monsters, but did none of them see the ghosts that were around? Was that just him? ] No... that's its own thing.

If they were here... they would crawl through the walls... like black ink appearing on the surface.

[Vander made a point of moving towards one of the walls and set a hand on it, running his bare skin over it as if that might determine if there was a difference. Nothing was perceptible by his measure, but he didn't know at lot about ghosts aside from the stories told to scare kids.] So you're afflicted by two horrifying visions?

[He turned to look at Henry, sympathy on his expression. Maybe that was why the guy was mousy or perhaps it was a meeting random strangers kind of nerves.]

Would I be able to see if if they were there in walls?

Oh. It was a lot more than two.

[ His tone remains just as unhurried as ever. He almost wishes that it was just two visions that he had to deal with than everything else. The idea that it would only be a few things would have been nice, honestly. ]

I hope so. [ He tips his chin up. ] Wait - maybe - I don't know. I don't know if it's something I hope, I mean. [ To inflict others with what he's seen, he isn't sure that would be kind. ]

How many are you afflicted by? You're leading me down the path of being concerned for you and your health.

[He wasn't certain if this was mental illness, side-effects of substances or just the way that this guy was. He also couldn't determine if any of this was just matter-of-fact statements or a cry for some intervention or assistance.

He looked over, assessing Henry again.] Normally I wouldn't or you don't know if others can see them when you do?

I guess I never counted all of them.

[ Should he? Is that a good idea? He's being asked so he should attempt to start counting them out. Turning one hand over, he taps each finger as he thinks of the visions he saw. The chains on the door. The text that appeared as soon as I drew close. People outside not hearing or seeing me. Is that two? He lightly taps one finger then the next before going back to the original finger. Best to have that just be considered one on its own.

One, two, three. He draws a half circle over his fingers. The hole and the hole getting bigger. His mouth twists. The strange mark on the wall and the grooves that all the plates fit in. He flicks his eyes to the side. The writing on the inside of the wall. The peephole that lead to Eileen's room. Henry twists his head away as he feels a bit embarrassed about that one; he didn't even try to call out to her. It felt a little like maybe he shouldn't have done that, actually. ]

Six in the apartment. [ But he adds: ] I don't know if you can see them or not. I met some people outside but they didn't mention any of the things I saw. [ Right. In those worlds, can the worlds be considered their own vision. Maybe. He finally drops his arms down to his sides... it's so much. ]

Anyway... it's a lot to count out. I'm not sure if I'm counting them right, either.

Edited 2025-03-28 04:48 (UTC)

[Was that an oversight or just a nonchalance to the fact that this guy was apparently haunted and tormented by voices?

Of course, now that he had asked, he expected that Henry might either be doing mental math to determine the number or actually counting them. He made a point of looking around as if he too might determine where these phantoms were, though there was nothing obvious and the man seemed to be taking this all in stride despite being under such torment.

Oh six, huh?] I unfortunately can't see them, no. Everything looks perfectly normal by my perception.

[He was curious, but then again, he didn't want to come across as rude either as he was asking questions. At what point did invasive questions become bothersome?] Do having other people around help or make no difference? Maybe a distraction?

It's all right. It ... was only back home that things looked that way.

[ The space that his apartment fell into was part of a ritual? He thinks? At least, that is what the notes he found from the previous occupant. His eyes roll up - ah, he should have mentioned him, shouldn't he? ]

Seven. [ That dead man was still trying to help him. He's grateful for all of the assistance, but it feels unfortunate that he couldn't do anything for the one who wants him to live. ] I don't know.

The only people I used to see were those that were going to die.

Well, if I do see people in the walls or strangeness in here, I'll let you know.

[Vander was being completely genuine. He might not believe in ghosts and hauntings, but he understood that just because he hadn't seen it didn't make it a falsehood. This place was teaching him plenty when it came to realities of other places, and it did make him appreciate the straight-forward familiarity of Runeterra.

He nodded his head. Clearly Henry had counted them.] That's quite the party. I bet they talk over each other too.

[And well, that was depressing, wasn't it? Oh, no wonder he had shown up here then!]

We're all going to die, Henry. Just some sooner than others.

Thank you.

[ Henry does genuinely mean that, as well. He thinks that he would very much like to know if the same horrific events that happened to him were starting up, again. However, a sense of hopelessness settles on him; he isn't sure what he would be able to do to stop things if they started.

Huh? ]

Oh. No. I met them one at at time. [ Well. ] Except one. He just gave me notes under the door. But he was already dead so -- [ His mouth quirks to the side in a way to say: "I don't know."

He feels his eyes widen at that statement; he looks troubled at the idea. Yes, well, yes; he understand that everyone is, but -- ]

Even so, people shouldn't die the way they did.

[Perhaps this young man could find some relief, temporary or otherwise, here in Etraya. Perhaps Aurora could ease some of the suffering? He was reserved on his opinion on Aurora and her willingness to help anyone, but he thought in this case that she might consider it for the safety and contribution of one of her recruits. Who knew.

Well, it was clear that this man lived an interesting and tormented life. He made a point to tuck his hands into his trouser pockets as a gesture of settling into ease with Henry.] Notes under a door? That's old fashioned; I would have thought most places gave that up when I was a kid.

[Vander's expression softened, remembering how he had died. Yeah, it hadn't been pleasant, hadn't been what he had wanted, but it had been his time to go he supposed. There were worse ways.]

People die the way that they die. When it's your time, you just... go, I suppose, whether you suffer or go quietly in your sleep.

Mm.

[ Henry doesn't have much of an answer to that statement. He wonders if he should add that the notes also appeared around his apartment. It seems like Joseph was trying to drop pieces of his research into the reality that Henry occupied. However, he couldn't give it all at once, for some reason.

However, if he had everything that Joseph knew, what would he be able to do with any of it?

He lets that question go because of what Vander says. His eyes unfocus. Henry has always been more of a pool of water - low energy, little expression or shifts of tone in his voice. He would rather run or seek an escape than fight.

However - however - he doesn't think it was those people's time. He doesn't believe they deserved the way that they died. Someone dragged them into a hellish, closed-off world and tortured them to death. Their last moments were in fear and pain. Because of some ritual. He barely understands what the ritual's goal would be. He just understands -- it wasn't fair.

Henry used to be angry about what was happening to him. It was a quiet frustration that burned in the back of his mind. But he wasn't an explosively volatile individual. It's why everything in his apartment remained in place and untouched; he wasn't the kind of person to grab a lamp and slam it against the wall to shatter it in helpless bitterness.

However, he is upset what happened to all those people. Some of them weren't innocent; some of them had done terrible things. But even then, it wasn't fair.

So, he stands - denouncing what is said in silence alone. His fists clenched and shaking; his eyes refocusing to quiet, raw anger he has. Enough to be able to kill someone. Enough to feel nothing afterward.

But the pool of water doesn't remain disturbed for long. His shoulders relax and posture droops. Vander isn't the one who did anything; this is just his opinion. He tips his chin in a small nod, accepting that is just what he thinks. ]

I guess.

[ Is what he says at last. ]

[It wasn't difficult to read the room, especially since he was watching Henry to begin with. His perception piqued when the other man withdrew completely from the conversation, filling the air with an angry silence. So, death was a subject that may require a bit more investigation then?

His own perception of it was perhaps skewed given the high mortality rates of his people, of the accidents and the bodies he had seen over the years. It seemed that Henry did have feelings on the matter, and they likely were in conflict with his feigns nonchalance about it. Death was one of those subjects that stirred emotions in people, and it was never a simple feeling either.

He lightly set his hands on his hips rather than cross them over his chest, not wanting to make Henry feel like he had closed off from the conversation. He doesn't move when Henry stood and all the clear signs of fury were there and within a few seconds, they were gone again. He'd met a few men like that. Hard to read, harder to disarm once provoked in his experience.]

I seem to have momentarily upset you. Did you want to talk about it, or would it better if I leave you to your own devices for now?

[ That's --

-- it's a good question. Should he talk about their deaths? His chin involuntarily dips down as he grits his teeth. Not all of the victims were good people. Some of them had done terrible things, but --

Andrew's body was never recovered. It probably would rot in that unknown prison without anyone finding it. Just like those children sent to that place. No one would know his part in their suffering. But is it up to him to decide how he should be "punished?"

Richard suffered so much before he died. However, the terrible things that he did -- was that his own doing or was he influenced by whatever was going on in the apartment building? Was it all right to brush it off as saying he was possessed? Manipulated by unseen forces? Was it right to wash away his actions? And what about the man that was murdered? Skinned?

If he talked about everything, what would happen? Would he feel better? He isn't sure. People died. He watched all of their deaths because someone wanted him to see it. His mouth feels dry. His eyes dip from side-to-side like reading a page.

His eyes remain unfocused until he blinks.

He lifts his head and looks at Vander. ]

I -- I don't know.

[Vander could tell that there was a lot happening behind the scenes where Henry was concerned, and he had no idea what the younger man was actually thinking about. He still watched, picking out the subtleties of body language. He suspected that Henry may be thinking about the very topic he wasn't certain the younger man may wish to speak on or not.

So he waited in the quiet unperturbed by it. There was no hurry on his part on if Henry would prefer he excused himself or if he stayed, and he had little interest in pushing potential boundaries of someone he had just met. Perhaps if he knew Henry better.

He tilted his head at the eventual answer. Poor guy wasn't decisive, was he?]

Well, would it make you uncomfortable to talk about it? Or have you had enough one-on-one visitation? It's your choice, and I'm happy for either. I don't want you feel obligated to have me around.

[ His eyes fix on his face before veering off to the side. Eye contact is hard on him. He tries not to fidget overtly much as he thinks of the answer to those questions.

He presses his lips together in a thin line before trying to answer. A soft-half noise comes out first before he closes his mouth again. Henry blinks and lets his gaze drift to the side once more. ]

I don't mind you being here. You're right that I do feel uncomfortable talking about the people who died. I didn't know them very well. Yet I was the only one there when they died. [ His eyes drift down to the floor. ] They died scared and they suffered to the last second.

[ And the person there to comfort them was Henry. ] It isn't about me. I don't think -- they should have been given more comfort. Some of them weren't good people, but I don't think that means they should suffer like they did. [ Maybe that's idealistic to think. He ended up saying all of this in the end; he thought about shuffling about and walking back to another room to indicate the conversation was over.

However, Vander did say he would listen to him before; he said that he would listen to the insanity that Henry has been enduring. It feels wrong not to "reward" the feeling of trust that he has in him by telling him some of his thoughts. Although, "reward" doesn't sound right. It isn't quite the right word, but he does want to give him something for his troubles. ]

I just know that what happened wasn't right. It wasn't their time.

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sorry for the delay! i missed the notif!

no worries!! ;a;

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cw: death, corpses, brief mention of child abuse

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