wrenchedup | D:/deer/inbox.msg

[ the one time she's not carrying her weapons and in a goddamn sundress. he rushes her, the hammer in his hands crackling with electricity, but sharon doesn't scramble out of the way. no, she meets him head-on. without a weapon to block him, though, she has to resort to using telekinesis.

if he swings the hammer, it'll be met with an invisible shield and he'll feel a force pressing against him, shoving him back as she tries to move forward. she's got more than just fire at her fingertips, wrench. ] Come on then! [ adrenaline rushing, heart humming. there's a wildness to her at this moment. ] Get it the fuck out, Wrench!

[ wrench was violent, yes. he could get too heated too quickly but he'd never attack a friend just because they had a fucking misunderstanding. arguments, sure. this was something else. this wasn't him, but the emotions that bubbled up beneath these actions were more real than he'd have any desire to admit. that corruption fueled his momentum. it manifested itself in rage but the core of it was paranoia, and grief, and disgust.

in this fucking world. in his fucking self.

He sure did hit that wall. and hard. lady sent green streaks of electricity through the air as he tumbled back like the mess he was. wrench was a sloppy fighter. all passion, very little skill when it came to hand-to-hand, at least. typically he used the element of surprise. and he's quick. no one expects a skinny motherfucker to grab someone by the scruff of their neck and headbutt their nose into their skull. it got the job done against the average person. sharon? not so average. wrench? not thinking about a damn thing right now so what did it matter anyway?

enemy. enemy was what he saw. couldn't trust her. couldn't trust anyone. everyone was against him, using him, bleeding him and looking for weaknesses. cause he was weak; but he'd show her. he'd show fucking everyone. he got back up on his feet like it was nothing, grabbed two flash bombs from the table nearby, and followed up with another attack. looking to use this flash to distract, sweep her off her feet. not in the fun way. ]

[ she feels a splash of concern when he hits the wall and prays this is it. he's had his blow-up, he's attacked her, let this be it but he's a quick fucker and on his feet before she knows it. she barely realizes what's happened when one of the bombs goes off, momentarily blinded, and by the time she understands, it's too late.

her legs get swept out from under her and she hits the floor. head crackingly hard. her vision swims. but she's been training for moments like this. even dazed, she finds a way to scramble backward, pushing with her hands and legs. when he moves towards her, she throws up one hand, visually defensive, but fire blooms between them. coiling and curling. the heat isn't unbearable, he's a coldblood, but it's a threat. temperature might not affect him but the heat will still cook him. ]

[ fire works. fire works really well. wrench skitters back just as quick as he'd gotten onto his feet again. that cold wave of panic even had him drop lady. he thought better than this; he reacted better than this. yet here he was backed up into a literal corner. almost exactly where he started.

his omen skittered between sharon and wrench. even if it didn't say anything, its movements spoke clear enough. what should it do? what should it do??? it was just a fucking spider. it's going to, oh. lady. it's just going to start lugging lady away from wrench's sightline. ]

[ guilt hits her like a pile of bricks. or maybe that's just the pounding in her skull. she's rattled. the moment he's backed up, the fire flickers out of existence, leaving only the scent of its heat behind. she pushes herself to her feet. her world feels off-kilter but the hum of adrenaline turns it into a distant concern. right now is about wrench. ]

It's not your fault. [ she starts, though whatever gentleness existed in her prior to his lashing out has fled, leaving behind only an unignorable firmness. ] You're corrupted, Wrench. You'll lose yourself if you don't get it sorted and I won't let that happen. Even if I have to use a Moon Drop on you.

[ She has a few left from last year and this is a good reason to use one. They cleanse a person of Beasthood and corruption but often result in brief hallucinations and may feel Moon Presence inside their head. ]

[ So many things happening in his brain. So many thoughts happening in his brain. His body pushed itself all the way back and tucked in close to itself. What the fuck was he doing? All emotion, synapses rapid firing impulses without thought or reason. Just emotion. The firmness helped, though. It cut through the static and grounded him enough that Wrench pulled his head up to look at Sharon.

You'll lose yourself. An actual fear. One that was strong enough to make him squeak out a quiet sound. Right back to square one. Trying to get out full sentences but the words being caught in the back of his throat. ] How, I— can't breathe, and... [ His hands come up to his face where that mask had scorched into his skin. he can, he can breathe, its called a panic attack. ]

[ He's having a panic attack. Her sympathy for him grows and she takes a step towards him before she stops abruptly. She remembers back to her first real panic attack in this place; she remembers how wild and terrified she had been; how she tried to lash out. And she remembers what Peter did to calm her. ]

Hey, hey, look at me. [ She keeps her voice firm as she tries to get him to focus on her. ] Breathe with me. In. [ She takes a deep breath in and holds it for several seconds before she releases it slowly. ] Out.

[ Okay, okay. Okay, he's been here before well not here before. Not like this, what if this.. what if this is how he's going to be forever? That's an actual fear, that's a good fear, and this fucking place... this whole place in general. Did she just use fire? They have fucking MAGIC here? He's so out of place, nothing he knows matters here...

And so the thoughts continued to spin. Hitched short breaths and shaking hands. Holy shit, its like it all sunk in. Like it really sunk in. Like this isn't just a laugh, or a dream, he's been here for awhile now. This was real. Okay, okay Wrench. You can. You can do this... so he breathed. He listened. His body curled up tight in itself but he listened. Slow, his heart still racing but the thoughts gradually calmed, slowly calmed. Enough to have some clarity. Little by little coming back around... ]

[ In and Out. Sharon intones over and over in a rhythmic, practiced way. As she does, she moves a little closer and a little closer until she's just feet from him. She can see that he's coming back into himself. His brain is booting back up after a BSoD. ]

Can I hold your hand? [ She asks, holding her own out for him to take if he would like. For her, touch helped when she was in the middle of it. It helped ground her. It made her feel safe. ]

[ The glitching had stopped if only because he'd closed his eyes. Focused. On the breath, on just accepting that he was here and this was what it was... he guessed? No, he'd get there later. Right now, here, there was someone with him. A small nod came as he offered his hand. Patches of it had become leathered and worn but that was slowly seeming to recede.

And little by little, his heart slowed and the tightness around his mask eased up. It wasn't fully gone, and those thoughts still milled about, but one thing he knew was this: he could trust her. ]

[ She holds it tightly, thumb rubbing gently against the leathered patches of flesh. Everything she does is repetitive. Something he can focus on. Something to latch on to. ]

When I had my first panic attack here, I was shoved into a place that reminded me of the horrors I experienced back home. [ She's just talking to fill the space. To give him more to focus on beyond his breathing and the tightness of his chest and heart and skin. ] It was like my brain was working in overdrive. I was so fucking scared and I couldn't get ahold of myself. I tried but I was stuck. Trapped.

Luckily, someone found me. Peter found me. He guided me through it like I just did with you. Made me breathe in and out over and over until I could feel the air in my lungs and my brain was no longer a weird, buzzing mess of fear. [ A pause and she gives the hand she's holding a squeeze. ] I hope I've helped quiet the buzz in your brain.

[ Another pause. Another gentle squeeze. ] And I'm sorry for scaring you.

[ It helps. The predictable movement. Knowing he was here. It was real. Maybe that was part of the anxiety but he still had something, someone, to grab onto. Her voice, steady. Wrench swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he continued to breathe. ]

First time, huh? [ A joke, of course. Though an earnest question at the same time. Everything she described was exactly a panic attack. Had been awhile since he'd had one. Can't say he missed it. Wrench nodded. ] I'm sorry I tried to hit you with my hammer.

[ She responds to his joke with a gentle pinch even as she lets out a huff of laughter from her nose. It took over half a year for her to reach a point where she had a panic attack and it really challenged her. ]

No worries, you missed. [ As if she'd have responded differently if he'd hit her (she wouldn't have, she's joking, too). ] You could really fuck someone up with that, though. It's badass.

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