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[isawallflower]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHEERYCHERRY. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.46.820.17 *** CHEERYCHERRY has joined 019.46.820.17 <CHEERYCHERRY> It's Riley! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please leave a message! <CHEERYCHERRY> Please be someone with their priorities sorted out properly!

main: CheeryCherry
anonymous: panthera, aed
retired: gflynn (anon)

Comments

GOOD CALL (... also cw drugs)

[peccatore]

You... get used to faking it.
With practice.




Come to think of it the prescription sedatives probably help too

cw some unhealthy views of addiction incoming

[isawallflower]

I know about faking it


You use drugs?
Like
Do you always use them?


How can that help?
They've never helped
Not that I've seen.

[peccatore]

[Ah. This means he has to be more specific.

Well, no. He doesn't HAVE to. But... dancing around the subject wouldn't do either of them any good, would it?

So, never mind how terrifying it is. Here goes.]

I try to take them every day.

It's
easier to remember or notice the things that aren't real when I do.

[isawallflower]

What do you mean
I mean when you say "real"

[peccatore]

[Deep breaths.]

I mean I hear things.
And
get some very strange ideas in my head from time to time.

[isawallflower]

Are the things in your own voice?
are the ideas dangerous?

[peccatore]

[These are some... awfully specific questions.

There are at least two reasons why she could be asking.]

A third of them.
And they can be, if I believe them.

[isawallflower]

[ Instantly, no hesitation: ]

and the drugs help with them they actually help??
they don't make things worse or space you out or take away your control?
they help?

[peccatore]

[So THAT'S the reason.]

I'm not sure if they're exactly what I need, but no, they don't make things worse.
They do calm me down, I can say that for certain.
That can... help.
When it comes to judgment.

[isawallflower]

[ This one takes a little while longer. She just stares quite blankly at this information, trying to digest it.

Ten minutes pass before she sends a reply. ]

I see.
Thank you Mr. Evangelisti for answering my rather invasive questions.
I'm sorry if any of them were uncomfortable.

[ She slipped. Her response has to be perfectly crafted. Even though he probably knows. He probably figured her out. She wonders if he's ever— ]

If I could ask, where do you get these specific kinds of drugs?
The clinic?

[peccatore]

[Marco exhales. He's not sure when it was, over the course of these ten minutes, that he started holding his breath.]

It's okay.
I thought it might

help.

[How, and whom?]

Yes. Hawkeye prescribed them himself.
But he won't be doing psychiatry anymore, so I'm not sure how it's going to work from now on.

[isawallflower]

Oh. Dr. Pierce did?

[ That...complicates a few things. ]

Do you trust the clinic?
Recent incidents aside.

[peccatore]

[... What is this about?]

Yes.
It was founded by my old roommate.

Have you
had a bad experience with Hawkeye too?

[isawallflower]

[ ... ]

Not personally, but
Between Dr. Dickens and a man working at the clinic who gruesomely murdered one of my closest friends, I'm not exactly in a trusting mood, with medical professionals right now.

[peccatore]

Oh


I'm sorry.

Does he still work there?

[isawallflower]

[ There’s a huge amount of “yeah, what the fuck do you say to that” that makes her feel a little bad for just dropping it on him, but Riley’s also so over doctors right now that it’s not enough to make her really regret it. ]

No. He’s gone. Not just from the clinic but from the peninsula.
But I imagine you can understanding my hesitance.
There’s only one person I trust who works at the clinic and that’s because I personally know him.
Everyone else I won’t risk. Not again.

[peccatore]

I understand.
I'm not sure where else you might be able to go, though.
I doubt they sell these without a prescription, and
Frankly I'd feel more comfortable knowing they're what you need.

[isawallflower]

[ She tenses up, again. ]

I don't know what I need so I don't really know how anyone else could


Sorry, I haven't decided
I don't know what I'm going to do with all of this yet.

[peccatore]

That's okay.
I understand.

[How many times has he said this already? But he means it, really.]

Take your time, okay?
If you need anything, you know where to find me.

I'm sorry if that was a little too much all at once.

[isawallflower]

[ For a long few moments, Riley stares at the response. It doesn’t feel like he’s just saying that. It doesn’t…feel like he’s patronizing her. It feels like…maybe he can understand.

But she’s so scared. Scared of herself, of other people, of the idea that she can’t get better—and the idea that she can. What “better” really is. ]

No it’s okay.
I sort of said a lot too.


Thanks.
For not thinking I’m crazy.

[peccatore]

[...]

If I thought less of someone for being "crazy"
I'd be a hypocrite, now wouldn't I?

[Never mind that he DOES think less of himself now. That's not the point.]

[isawallflower]

There's a lot of hypocrites in the world.

[ lbr she's one of them— ]

This just isn't the kind of thing people talked about back home.

[peccatore]

Don't worry about that.
It's not exactly "normal" over where I was from either.

[isawallflower]

[ Riley doesn't really know what to say to that. Or to any of this. She's been running on fumes for some time now.

So. ]

Okay.
I'll try.

Goodbye Mr. Evangelisti.

[peccatore]

Talk to you some other time, Riley.

[Or so he hopes.]