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Tweak says, "you know who you are, i luv u!"

Syd(ney) Barrett (_donttouch) wrote,
@ 2017-04-06 19:48:00

[log 2] Syd/David

The days went by fast, too fast. But there were tactics to discuss and work to put in, all things that took up time. Sydney had put her two cents in, brash as it might have been in comparison to everyone else's thoughtful plans, and then took off. Now it was time for personal work of her own.

She had been thinking about it since their conversation, contemplating the logistics and possible horrible effects of what might happen were she wrong about this idea. It might even be worse than the first time she and David switched bodies; he was so much more powerful now. And while he knew it, was aware of it, she still didn't think that she herself was strong enough to keep everything in check if they did switch. And she didn't think her conscience could take another murder -- no matter how accidental it was. Especially not of these people. They had already seen enough loss. She had seen enough loss.

She often wondered whether David would have been able to suss out the Shadow King earlier, had she not accidentally killed Lenny and leave her to be a hallucination in his mind. Or would it have simply taken another form, another person to confuse him?

Enough of those thoughts, Sydney, she mentally chastised herself. If they could hold on to scarves together, then they could do this. Resolve found, she wound her way toward David's dorm before she lost her nerve. David wasn't there, at least she was pretty sure that he wasn't; it was odd, but she swore that she could sometimes feel him around. It was easy to find him, though whether that was part of some weird connection or by merely knowing him, Syd wasn't sure. It wasn't like she had that particular link with anyone else she had switched with. Perspective and empathy, sure. But an actual possible link? Maybe it was because she entered his headspace. It was a question she would have to ask the others, whether they had the same feeling.

Entering his room, she looked around and grabbed the closest piece of clothing that she could find, a jacket. The theft was quick, partially because that was how a theft should be and partially because she wanted to find out what would happen as soon as possible. Her fingers snuck out of their protective cover of long sleeves, gingerly touching the fabric of the jacket with eyes half squinted shut. Eyes still squinted, she threw the jacket on one shoulder then the other, and then looked around wide-eyed to see what had happened.

Those wide eyes looked down first thing, seeking out -- yup. Still had boobs. Releasing a sigh of relief, Syd cozied up in the jacket, zipping it up halfway. It was bigger than her normal size, which was nice. Safe. More room between others' skin and her own. And it smelled like him! Like a little kid, Sydney wiggled around in the fabric happily and then turned around to leave and go about her day.

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xgene
2017-04-06 11:49 pm UTC (link)

That first night had been rough. Considering how exhausted he'd been, not to mention having his mind to himself, he'd been hoping for a peaceful sleep. It'd been needed, desperately, to help him organize. It felt like he'd been going almost non-stop since he and Syd swapped places and now? He could afford some rest.

Unfortunately, the dreams that suffused him were alarming. Troubling. Initially they were little more than disjointed, senseless garbage. Random bits that made for a blurry haze of tossing and turning -- he knew he was dreaming. He knew his brain was processing, trying to cleanse all the internal wirings to make a clean slate. In that place between sleep and dream, he knew this, but there'd been absolutely no controlling it. That frustration eventually exhausted him into something a little deeper.

That was when things really got fucked up. And not even on a scary scale -- no, he'd experienced enough of that thanks to every manipulated memory, thanks to diving deep into places Lenny didn't want him, or anyone else, to be. No, after the first night, it was pure, raw emotion driving his nightmares.

Anger. Regret. Sadness.

The memories tended to focus heavily on family. All the times he'd let his parents down, all the ways he'd frightened his sister. God, that he knew what his sister looked like when she was terrified well before Lenny got hold of her...

Most mornings he was awake before anyone else, giving up around two in the morning most times. The days that followed he could focus, listening to plots and plans, mostly keeping to the listening side. David knew he was out of his element here. The real world and anything to do with it tended to be a stretch for him to handle -- laying out what was essentially turning out to be battle plans left him feeling even more like a fish out of water.

But every now and again he had something to offer, some vote of confidence, a note of agreement. At one point he asked flat out if anyone else knew any more telepaths they could just recruit to force Lenny and Oliver to separate in the Astral Plane: his answer had been a bunch of solemn looks. Guess not. Sole telepath in the room. Cool.

Fourth day and David had managed to go most of it without speaking at all. Everything was internalized, thoughts drawn inwards as his body and mind continued to grow more and more exhausted. Something had to give and only one idea came to mind of what could be done. It was something he didn't feel he could do alone, however.

Instinct drove him in the right direction without much thought. David felt he would always have a connection to Syd, and not just because he still found himself moving to push away long blonde hair -- they'd shared their minds, swapped bodies, and David loved her with every fiber of his being. Connection seemed like an understatement. Especially as he sought her out now, knowing she'd be able to offer perspective, as well as be the strong foundation she'd been since day one.

And, turning a corner, there she was! The pensive expression immediately melted in favor of a warm smile as soon as he saw her, all of her. Body, mind, soul. Whatever that aura was that seemed to surround everyone if he just looked with the proverbial third eye.

"Hey," he started, only to note the attire, smile turning swiftly into a smirk. "Comfy?"

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_donttouch
2017-04-07 12:16 am UTC (link)

She looked up from admiring the jacket, still sort of shifting around in order to listen to the swish-swish noise of the fabric, and smirked in return. "Did I mention that I'm a thief?" She looked happy, playfully smug, because her plan completely worked. It washed away the worries that she had, about that anyway. And it didn't itch or hurt -- no fire ants in this jacket, thanks.

But then she pursed her lips, screwing her mouth to one side. Fingers sought out the edges of the sleeves, curling inward. Since it was bigger, her hands got a little lost within the cuffs, which she actually liked. At first, she was going to check to make sure that he was okay with it, but that little fact had her much more confident. Don't know if you'll get this back. It was a shared joke, so it was a shared thought. Her mouth remained where it was, but this time eyebrows were lifted in question of just what he was going to do about it.

"What's up?"

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xgene
2017-04-07 12:25 am UTC (link)

David didn't mind at all that Sydney had made good on her word to swipe something. He didn't have much in this world, everything having been sold off or given away when he was checked into Clockworks, which left him essentially with just a few clothes here at Summerland. One swiped jacket wasn't the end of the world and, seeing it on her, seeing how it affected her expressions, her movements, everything about her? It was in better hands.

It suits you, was his initial answer, still smirking, but looking playfully approving about it all. It was a way to touch without touching, a means to have something physical without completely removing their bodies in the Astra Plane too. He got it. Clever thinking.

"I wanted to run something by you actually, something that's been bugging me the last couple nights," he started casually, motioning in the direction she'd been initially walking for them to follow along. "I could use a sounding board." Understatement. He could use someone to let him know if he was thinking smart -- if now was the time or place to be thinking... selfishly. Because that was his knee-jerk reaction to what he wanted to do. What he felt he needed to do.

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_donttouch
2017-04-07 01:04 am UTC (link)

"Doesn't everything?" She smirked in response to his mental reply, but was easily continuing the way she was walking, this time with him beside her. Syd wanted another cup of coffee; caffeine was good. Holy, even. And besides, hearing Oliver's voice kept her focused on the personal part of what was at stake.

But she had stopped briefly when he mentioned that something had been bugging him, looking at David in concern before slowly continuing where her focus had been mere moments ago. "Everything alright..?" Syd asked, head tilted. "You still sleep like in Clockworks." Which, was to say, hardly slept at all. It was hard to sleep there unless, of course, you had the meds that made you sleep. Syd didn't sleep much there either. Summerland was better, most likely because it wasn't a mental institute. Still, it seemed like David slept just the same in either place.

"I can do that. I've been talking plenty these past couple of days." And he hadn't been talking enough. Which was dangerous for anyone, really. Too much time in one's own head lent toward too many thoughts and not any outlets for it, which lent toward being overwhelmed. or it lent toward bottling thoughts up and rushing headlong into things. Both of which Sydney did more often than not, and neither which were particularly mentally sound. But she was happy, proud even, that David trusted her as a confidant. Boyfriends and girlfriends were supposed to be, but she had seen enough of relationships to know that wasn't always the case.

"What are you thinking?" What a loaded question for brains that thought at the speed of --- something very fast.

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xgene
2017-04-07 11:30 am UTC (link)

"Too true!" Syd could wear anything she liked and David knew she'd rock it. Much like many things with her, he was absolute in his beliefs -- she was amazing, she could wear anything and look good, her opinion was worth hearing.

Having at least one positive, certain thing in his life was something to be treasured. Because really, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised about the consistency in his poor sleeping. "Sleep and I have never been on good speaking terms," he offered in explanation. Even as a kid it had never come entirely easily -- part of the reason why his father didn't feel so bad 'waking him up' in the middle of the night to look at stars. Usually he was already awake in some fashion. When anti-psychotics were added into his life, sleep became even more elusive.

Lack of sleep wasn't so bad though. He'd managed all this time on the precious few he got. It was the nightmares, they were what was really bugging him, keeping him quiet and internalizing everything. Years of therapy told him that was a bad idea, David knew that, and yet without a steady psychiatrist he always fell back into the habit. And even now, even trusting Syd so deeply, he refused to burden her. It'd been the same with Amy -- that was what professionals were for. Psychiatrists who often had their own therapists or psychiatrists too.

But this? This he wanted to talk about, because it was an action item. Something that could be done and achieved rather than simply talked about only to be left lingering with big questions unable to be answered.

"It's coming up to the anniversary of my father's death," he started bluntly, hands in his pockets as they walked. They were obviously aiming towards coffee -- always a good choice. "Clockworks wouldn't let me go see him when he was sick and wouldn't let me go to his funeral either." Those had been a rough few months, to put it lightly. "He and my mom have been on my mind." He hadn't visited her grave in years, not since he turned 23.

Glancing to Syd, his eyes having been glued firmly to the ground, he smiled somewhat ruefully. "Guess knowing that I'm adopted and they still put up with all my shit is starting to sink in. I keep dreaming and I... want to visit them. Their graves."

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_donttouch
2017-04-07 12:40 pm UTC (link)

Psychiatrists were generally just as – if not more than -- nuts as their patients; they just managed to seem more socially acceptable. It was probably the MD behind their names. Go to school for half your life and all of a sudden society thinks you should be given more respect than the poor Schmoe who couldn’t make it. But Sydney honestly thought everyone was crazy; either some people dealt with it better, or they hadn’t had that event horizon moment to shove them off the proverbial cliff.

She looked down at that, mouth pressing together briefly before she looked back up. “I’m sorry.” For all of it. Everything. That his parents died, that he hadn’t been allowed to attend to his father either in sickness or in death. She watched David thoughtfully, wondering just how hard that had to have been for someone who so obviously loved his family. Who was so obviously loved in return by them. “They should have let you go.” Or at least should have had a grief counselor or whatever on top of the normal counselors.

With gentle guidance, they found their way into the dining area where the steampunk-looking coffee brewer stood shiny and copper, waiting to regale the next person with a story and hot drink. Syd looked over as well, a quiet laugh escaping in shared ruefulness. “They’re still your parents. Good parents put up with their kids’ shit.” Keyword being good, which the Hallers sounded like they were. Fiddling with the knobs and buttons, she got the machine percolating for two cups, Oliver’s voice piping in and chattering away soothingly. But it was white noise, what with her attention on David.

“What are your dreams like?” Did she want to know the answer to that question? Yes and no. No and yes. But it was an idly curious question, giving way to more important things. “Where—“ She stopped, eyebrows drawing downward. It was a good idea, and might help David deal with a lot of things. Closure was supposed to be important, right? But it was a delicate subject and Syd wasn’t always good with those. So her train of thought switched tracks – smoothly, like a planned track switch rather than a runaway train. “Where are we going?” She looked down at the coffee that had finished pouring out, then back up at David with a wry smile. “And we’ll probably need travel cups for this.”

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xgene
2017-04-07 01:27 pm UTC (link)

David wasn't sure where he stood on everyone being some level of crazy. Being surrounded by those with deep psychological issues and mental illness, on top of having his own (or so he'd thought), his perspective was likely skewed -- what must be a 'normal' level for most seemed like basic human nature to David. Some people had a proclivity for being cruel, some people were quirky, others got depressed because of the weather. Humanity was definitely a universal condition.

But he'd dove in wholly and completely to therapy, finding good doctors that had helped him a great deal when he was on a good streak. What happened to Dr. Poole, what he did to Dr. Poole still unsettled him, seeing as how the guy was the best psychiatrist David ever had in his life. Shame there wasn't a Dr. Poole equivalent here -- someone who understood that superpowers weren't a delusion and could help him with everything else in his head before it festered into some new mental illness.

He was trying though, he was. Letting himself feel things, letting the important things out as best he could. "Yeah, they really should have," David commented idly, angrily, shaking his head. It was clear now that Clockworks was now partially owned by Division 3, that someone somewhere, combined with doctors voicing disapproval, made sure he stayed put. Seeing his father wasting away would due irreparable damage, going to a funeral would make him even more unstable, blah blah blah.

"They deserved gold medals for what they put up with," he said with a soft chuckle. He'd been tempted to say they deserved better, but that... wasn't constructive. His parents had done the best they could and David knew he rewarded them poorly -- he hoped to change that now that his mind was his own. Oliver's New Zealand accent chiming from the coffee machine being the perfect reminder of how he could make the world a better place in their honor: saving him and finally putting an end to the Shadow King. Somehow.

As for his dreams, David looked at Syd an expression that mirrored exactly what she thought -- a thought he didn't need to read. The blatant expression of 'are you sure you want to know?' was clearly writ on his face. "Rain-check on that one," he offered as a compromise. If she really did want to know, he'd try his best to explain. For now: where.

Now she was the one reading his mind, offering to come with without him asking. That had him smiling at her with the utmost fondness and appreciation. "They're buried in Plattsburgh in northern New York." As a family they had lived farther west, but David had no intention of going near that house for a good, long while now. Looking to the coffee though, he couldn't help but tip his head and wonder. "Wonder how well I'll do teleporting us and coffee..." Because he had no intention wasting time driving, thank you.

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_donttouch
2017-04-07 02:57 pm UTC (link)

Having not had the same sort of luck with therapists or doctors, Sydney hadn’t been able to dive the same. And there was the fact that, with her at least, it was a lot of professionals trying to tell her that her ability was all in her head – an excuse to explain away her deeply rooted fear of intimacy and the trauma that had happened to her. Her mental issues were defenses…poorly made and managed perhaps, but defenses all the same. But that was the thing about human nature and mental health. It would never be one size fits all.

She let him be angry; he should have been angry, even if it was for just that moment. Nodding her agreement, angry for him, Syd found even more reason for her resolve to take down D3. Yes, they would have to play nice now. She had been reminded of that more than a few times over the past couple of days. But afterwards? Right now she was still feeling all-bets-off. Hopefully Clark would see reason by then. He could be helpful during that point. If the Eye could turn from his own kind to D3, who was to say that the opposite couldn’t happen?

She met his expression – and her own doubts -- with quiet defiance, the answer leaning more toward yes than it was no. She’d been inside of his head and seen the monsters, the real one with yellow eyes and the memories that acted like them, that needled at David like his own little devils and their white-hot pitchforks. She could handle his dreams. Possibly. Maybe. She’d like to try. So, a half smile appearing, she accepted the compromise with a nod. “Raincheck accepted.”

Hair was pushed out of her face and Sydney returned the warm smile. Obviously, she wouldn’t let him go it alone! This was serious and, if she were ever to meet up with her mother again, she would want David right by her side as well. And, on a far second and much less important note, it was an adventure. She had a hard time turning those types of things down. Having turned to busy herself with filling the second cup, she stopped and stared when he mentioned….teleporting? Say what now? “…How are we getting there?” She fully expected to borrow a car and take a road trip. She had seen what he did with Cary’s scanning machine; everyone did. It was hard to miss a very large tube type thing in the middle of the garden area outside. But people-moving? “You can teleport us? All the way there?” She arched an eyebrow, amusement beating her trepidation. “So that’s what you do when you can’t sleep. Visit other girlfriends.”