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npc contact.1
As the game progresses, different npc faculty and students will become available for threading. To request a thread, please comment below with the name of the npc and the ic date in the subject header. Threads may be cut short due to mod availability, so please have a reason in mind for the interaction.
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W-Well, I...Ah, well, I am an older man, you see. Death is more of an inevitability, instead of a horrible outcome.
[He shrugs, as if to say 'it is what it is.']
Of course, it is not a thing I relish in thinking about. But I am not a teenager, believing themselves to be immortal.
[Once he's answered that, he can actually let himself think about the first part of it - and the implications thereof.]
So...I have been - violent, in the past? And that is why I am here?
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[ Overall, a normal way of thinking, and although there's such thing as a healthy amount of fear, a lot of people never move past that to acceptance. Everybody is here to die! Glad we don't have to have this talk. ]
That aside... Your actions in the past are not why you are here. Think of it more as an "and." [ You fucked up, and you're here. It doesn't have to be the reason why. ]
You don't remember, do you, James? But that's alright. You are you. Your actions, the consequences, are yours and yours alone, regardless of whether you remember. And you will take responsibility for them. If you accept, give me your left hand.
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Either way, it's hard not to notice the way the counselor refused to give his name, or to discuss what he did prior. But it's not as if he's incorrect - even when he was truly memoryless in shinjuku, he was still himself, still had the consequences of his actions, and still took responsibility for them.
So - with a moment to close his eyes and prepare himself for whatever is going to happen - he reaches out with his left, placing it in the counselor's grasp.]
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The counselor slides off the desk, wiping pretzel dust off his hands before striding over to Moriarty and taking his hand— one hand to hold, one hand to trace a line on Moriarty's palm. The life line. It itches when the counselor touches his skin, and at the same time, the tally marks on Moriarty's wrist begins to burn, a searing pain, one finger pressed to the end of the line while the other hand wraps itself around Moriarty's wrist with surprising strength to prevent him from pulling away.
He opens his eyes and it's darkness, it's silence, there's the distinct lack of air or space to move but he finds himself trying anyways, hands scrabbling at— dirt? soil, heavy and damp, crushing him on all sides, something with too many legs skittering over the back of his hand, something with no legs slithering inside his open mouth that's screaming, shouting, no breath left in his lungs that burn and sear as he keeps calling for help, crying for somebody to save him— for somebody to hear him— for Maya to-
He opens his eyes and he's in the counselor's office. The counselor is crouched in front of him, hands to himself again, peering up at Moriarty.
...He breathes a sigh, and pushes off his knees to stand. ]
That will be the end of our counselling sessions, James. For now.
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But it is also too close to the memory of his true death, of when his back was broken and the water of the falls surrounded him as he drowned, the surface of the water forever out of reach of his paralyzed body.
Once he comes back - he's shaking. Genuinely shaking for the first time, cold sweat breaking out on his skin and basically hyperventilating in front of the counselor, because - because for a moment, he doesn't know if he's back in those waters, or under the ground, both times desperate for a breath or a miracle that will never, ever come.]
Wh-wait -
[Despite what he normally acts like, he reaches forward and tries to grab onto the counselor - hands, arm, anything - something to cement him back onto what is real.]
What - what do you - mean....?
[He doesn't even really know what he's saying at the moment, as his mind is scrambling for some kind of stability while also still trying to keep the conversation going out of some kind of instinct.]
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I'm here. I know it's a lot to take in... but it's important that open your eyes and take that step. Don't look away from the truth.
[ He gives Moriarty's hands another squeeze. Shhhh. It's okay. It'll be okay. ]
I'll be here when you need me again; I won't abandon you.
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'I won't abandon you.'
Is that the truth, or a lie? It's been so much of a lie throughout his life -
It seems he comes back to himself, all at once. Or maybe he's been standing there for more time than that?
His heartrate begins to go back to a more normal rate, as he breathes in once, breathes out...and forces his trembling to still.]
...I-I see. V...Very well. I'll...I'll keep that in mind.
['The truth?' So that vision, that clear death - was the truth? But what is the truth, in this situation?
What is the truth of this school?
He doesn't know. But, for now...]
So - does this mean - I won't be scheduled for another appointment? Or...
[He'd normally never say it that outright, but he's still coming back from the episode.]
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That's right. Until you need to see me again, this is the last of our sessions. But you know what to do if you wish to talk with me again.
[ Just kill someone? Then his door will be open, easy peasy. ]
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...Perhaps not now. But another time. Once he's finished following the lead the vision he's seen today.]
...Alright. ...Thank you.
[That is genuine. Despite the - issue he just went through, it's a little bit more of the puzzle of this school.]
Then - I suppose I'll be going.
[And he'll...awkwardly....take his hands back...]