logsville | feel it still [open]

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feel it still [open]

Who: Diana Prince [

monomachy] & various
When: First week of March
Where: Various places around Santa Rosita
What: Diana biffed her clinic break-in and got hardcore Tranq'd.
Warnings: Tranquilization and everything that comes with it (mind control, uncanny valley mannerisms, etc.)

i. give in to that easy living [days 1-3]

On Monday morning, Diana wakes up with a smile on her face. Her dreams were peaceful and bright--of blooming meadows and calm lakes. Or, that's what she imagines they would have been like, if only she could remember them. But it doesn't seem to bother her that she can't. Instead, she gets up out of bed, gets dressed in her finest pastel pink dress, movements a little too practiced, a little too mechanical. Her clothes from the day before are discarded at the foot of her bed, covered in dirt and torn in places, but she doesn't seem to notice. Doesn't seem to be bothered.

Nothing bothers her. Why would it? Life here in Santa Rosita is perfect.

Everything is perfect.

As she ties on her apron, she sees mud on the floor, tracked in from the back door. Her brows draw together, but she doesn't frown. It's just one more thing she'll have to clean up before heading out for the day. Nothing at all to be worried about. Diana sets about making breakfast, frying eggs and bacon and making toast, none of which turns out quite the way it should; again, she doesn't frown at her work, but simply resolves to pick up a cook book so she can make a better breakfast for her dear family tomorrow. Any visitors will find her in the wrecked kitchen, toaster and stove smoking alike, and that same eerie, wide smile plastered on her face. When she speaks, her voice is too chipper, too hollow, somehow.

"You're just in time for breakfast!"

And later in the day, she'll have whipped up something special for the neighbors down the street or on the next block. Maybe she's heard some gossip around town that this family is having a tough time, or maybe she just felt like dumping a few cans of vegetables into a jell-o mold and sharing the monstrosity with whoever is nearest. Either way, Diana has the monstrosity perched upon a cake stand with a domed glass lid, baring the entirety of its disgusting, slightly-melted glory to the world--and the poor person who opens the door to her weird grin. Again, there's a strange emptiness to her voice, though for all appearances she seems happy. Too happy.

"I thought I would pop by and drop off the dinner I made especially for you!"

Eat at your own risk.

ii. goodbye to my hopes and dreams [days 4-6]

She could have done without a job. But it's good for her to get out of the house to somewhere that isn't the grocery store, and the library is a perfectly respectable place for a lady to be. So she checks books in and out, makes sure the spines are arranged perfectly on the shelves, and (perhaps most importantly) keeps troublemakers in line.

Maybe it's a noise that draws her over--a slightly too-loud word or the sound of a dropped book. Maybe it's just where the path of her strangely stiff steps took her. Either way, Diana is standing at her full height (six feet plus a few inches thanks to the cute kitten heels she's wearing), that same eerie smile on her face paired with a slight draw of her brows. The looks is meant to be disapproving, but just looks creepy. She cocks her head to one side, the motion a bit too fast and birdlike, and speaks.

"What's all the ruckus about? I really don't want to have to ask you to leave."

What is meant as a reprimand comes out rather peppy. This may not make it less disturbing.

iii. stop flipping for my enemies [day 7, evening]

The day goes by as most others do: perfectly. Nothing untoward happens to her, she is not the subject of any gossip, a true accomplishment with some of these homemakers. Santa Rosita is a delight. The people here are a delight. Everything is.

Delightful.

She treats herself to dinner at the Blue Moon Diner, a small salad and a big vanilla milkshake topped with a bright red cherry. Folks who have seen her in the diner before might remember her chowing down on burgers and fries, but Diana seems perfectly content with the greens in front of her. It's when she starts on the milkshake when the feeling hits.

Pain, lancing through her head.

She rests a palm against one temple, her expression flickering to something other than inert cheeriness for the first time in a week. She'll flag down the waitress for the check, leaning one elbow on the table so she can cradle her head in her hand.

iv. we could wait until the walls come down [wildcard]

[ooc; i'm down for any interactions! diana will be stage 6 tranquilized for a week, only remembering her break-in as a misunderstanding that ended good-naturedly. she will still have her increased durability and strength, but will be unaware of them, believing herself an average human woman. please feel free to contact me via pm or on plurk at

watchet if there's anything specific you'd like to do! p.s. i will match any tagging format, brackets or prose are both fine.]

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[ falco has been coming over since the start of the month to help levi clean when he was unable, and continuing the trend even when the man was on his properly sized legs again. he helped the boy remove the hideous jaw implant and allowed it to grow back, and now he continues to help as the days went in and out. occasionally, through his cleaning routines, he’d watch each picture on the wall he’d remove dust from and was made aware of the woman that lived here with mister levi— diana was her name, but falco had never had the chance to run into her. to be frank, he hadn’t expected that day to be today, either, opening the door to the garage and leaving his shoes out to not bring the dirt in. he knows where levi is at where cleanliness is concerned. now, onto indoors, with broom, mop and bucket in hand. ]

I finished the garage, Mister Lev— Ah!

[ the acrid smell of smoke and burning food pinches the inside of his nose as he waves his hand frantically over his head. wh—

the same woman from the creepy family photos of levi smiling like plastic which was the true root of evil, except. she too, was smiling like plastic while the kitchen was about to go up in flames. something goes icy in falco’s gut, dread, maybe— dread upon realization that something was not right, and very wrong.

he abandons the cleaning utensils against the wall and runs to help her; he doesn’t know how yet, but starts by flipping off the switch that births a monstrous block of charcoal that was once food and a flame tempted to grow past the heated pans. then the other, quickly— ]

I-It’s burning, Miss Diana!

[ they haven’t properly introduced themselves, but it feels better to use her name then pretend he didn’t know. ]

[Though the smoke makes her eyes water and her throat feel like it's being rubbed raw, nothing on Diana's face betrays the physical discomfort of standing over a burning pan of food. She seems perfectly content to continue poking at it with a spatula, as if moving it around the pan will somehow make it edible again. Only when she hears someone enter the room does she turn away from it, a sharp movement of her head made even more uncanny by the frozen look of her smile. Aside from a too-cheery oh! as the flame beneath the pan disappears, she doesn't show any other shock about the disaster that has surely been avoided in the kitchen.

Diana doesn't blink as she stares at the young man in front of her, lips still pulled back in that smile.]

I don't think we've met. But you seem to know my husband, so welcome to our home!

[Despite the peppy tone to her voice, it still comes out somehow hollow. Not quite right. She doesn't seem bothered by the smoking mess on the stove in front of her.]

[ —this is really unsettling and falco hadn’t considered meeting someone like themselves that was just . . . robbied up. ]

R— right. Missus. [ though the boy is usually one to play along when the time comes for it. it’s not her fault she’s that way, or anyone else’s fault who’s stuck that way like their neighbors. ] I’m Falco— Smith. We’re neighbors.

[Her smile can't stretch any wider, but it also doesn't diminish as she speaks. It's simply frozen on her face, entirely unnatural.]

I'm so pleased to meet you, Falco. Now that you mention it, I'm sure I've seen you around before. [Possibly. Her memory is a little fuzzy right now, and isn't that just unfortunate?] I can't believe I haven't introduced myself before. Silly me! [And she laughs, a wholly unsettling sound.]

[ the more he has to watch her plastered face, the more something grim and saddened churns in his stomach. diligently, he starts helping her with the burnt pans upon the stove, taking one by one, forking the charcoal contents into the trash and bringing them to the sink. he might be small, but he could reach the basics. who knows, maybe he grew an inch during the months he was here, too. ]

We've always missed each other. It's alright. [ does she not remember anything? not even what got her into this mess? ] Did you . . . have a long day, yesterday?

[ he tries to prod for information in the most subtle way he could think of. ]

[Mechanically, she starts picking up the emptied pans and dumping them in the sink, beginning to fill half of it with soapy water so she can begin scrubbing at the mess she's inadvertently made.]

Why, I did, actually!

[She doesn't slow as she starts to wash the dishes, hands moving in perfect circles--but only in one spot.]

I had a silly misunderstanding with the police. The police! I do hope my husband isn't upset.

[There's the slightest hint of consternation in her voice, but it's difficult to distinguish beneath the chipper tone.]

[ falco readies one of the kitchen towels nearby and keeps to the woman's side, taking a plate to better sponge it down. her voice had rippled in the pristine flow of it, that, for just a second. for that very second following, concern flares for him; he forgets the 'missus'. ]

What happened to you, Miss Diana?

[Her head snaps around to face him, that stiff smile still on her face. The movement is somehow too fast, like a predator honing in on its prey.

Or like a busy housewife scolding the kid-next-door.]

I was somewhere I shouldn't have been, Falco. It isn't polite to pry!

[ oh, dear, that was. creepy. it was like her voice meant one thing but her face was stuck that way. like the neighbors when you started pressing too much. it made falco’s stomach flip uncomfortably into a knotted ball that sat at the base of his gut and pulled down like an anchor. his expression, eyes widened with a touch of taken aback surprise soon simmers into a frown— ]

. . . Sorry, Mrs. Diana.

[ the “incorrect” way, this time, he didn’t want to find out what would happen alone. that would put diana at risk, too. the best way at the moment was to swallow his curiosity, and keep his prying to himself. ]

That was rude of me.

[ he hasn’t even met her correctly, and feels as if something terrible has happened to a close friend. he’ll continue to help with the plates, wordlessly, but still wonders . . . and hopes, that she’ll be able to be herself again. ]

[The neighbors on Midwich Street were honestly pretty personal to one another. Heck, Levi spent so much time visiting with her and Erwin that it was only fair that Cassandra would pop in occasionally to see Diana. In a place like this, it paid to keep track of your allies. And.... just as well for it. Cassandra wanted to make certain Levi's health was improving after his "trip" to the Living Island.

To that end, it's not all that uncommon to catch them popping over to the Smith's residence. What is uncommon about this is the lack of announcement; just a knock on the door one afternoon that Cassandra, without thinking, goes to answer.

And low and behold, there's two horrifying sights before her.]

Uhhh, thanks, but I think we're good on- [It doesn't click at first. But the eyes, the voice...] W-wait a sec. Diana?

[Diana stands on the front porch, wearing a pastel purple dress that is so far and away from her usual style that it's almost laughable. But her smile is the most disconcerting part of her entire person at the moment, and it doesn't falter, even when Cassandra's face turns to shock.]

Hello, Cassandra! I'm sure it's too early for you to have made dinner yet. It's a good thing I came by, isn't it?

[She offers the gelatinous mass a little further forward, fingers gripping the plate tightly, not seeming to realize or care that Cassandra clearly doesn't want it.]

[The smile is what cinches the entire look. It draws Cassandra's gaze, that same, tight-lipped smile that was plastered across other robbies she'd seen. Seemed like it was almost one step removed from rictus.]

Uhhhh...

[At least she could easily connect the dots; this couldn't be different from the time Erwin had started acting strangely similar to the rest of the locals. All chipper and sweet. Ignorant, too.

And now, Cass was being offered the "fruits" (and veggies probably) of Diana's efforts. With hesitant hands, she accepts the plate, wincing at this whole interaction, and not just the confection in her hands.]

Yeah. I have to ask, are you feeling alright?

[Her expression remains frozen with that wide smile, and she doesn't seem to notice Cassandra's discomfort at the gift or her entire demeanor. She only seems focused on handing over the food and, once she's done that, her gaze fixes squarely on the face of the woman in front of her, and does not waver.]

I feel fit as a fiddle, thank you for asking!

[Despite the chipper tone to her voice, it still seems hollow. She tilts her head to one side, but the movement is more of a quick jerk of her head, birdlike in its nature and unsettling.]

How are you?

[It's always the smile that unnerves Cassandra the most. After a lifetime of watching people smile and enjoying their merry lives... Santa Rosita was a far cry from Corona. Smiles stretched far enough to reach their ears, yet the merriment wasn't there, it was hollow, just like the rest of this place.]

I can, uh, see that. The dress is new.

[Maybe, or maybe Diana's worn it before. But she needs Diana to keep talking, so Cassandra can have time to think.]

Me? Oh. You know... [She steps cautiously back, searching for a place to set this gelatin monstrosity down. Her gaze never totally stops focusing on her newly robotic neighbor.] Doing well. Taking care of Falco. Visiting Rapunzel.

[She lifts her arms out to her sides, swinging her hips back and forth so the skirt swishes around her legs.]

It is, thank you for noticing! I can't believe how many dark colors there are in my wardrobe--so much black and burgundy! This is much more fitting for a lady, don't you think?

[She chatters on about the outfit, detailing everything from the matching pink cap on her head down to the horrible kitten heels on her feet. Only when Cass mentions their other neighbors does she change subjects, so quickly it seems she hasn't even taken a breath.]

Little Falco is such a dear! He stopped by the other morning for breakfast. [She claps her hands together once.] Say, why don't the three of us girls get together for breakfast sometime? Doesn't that sound swell?

Both Levi and Falco have told Erwin about Diana's unfortunate situation. Having been there himself, and frankly not wanting to ever go there again, Erwin has been keeping his distance. He knows there isn't much anyone can do to snap her out of it, and that the only thing to do is wait for it to wear off.

And then be there for her when it does.

As such, Erwin has been keeping an eye on Diana. He's not following her, exactly, but he has tended to be in the background of where she frequents, making sure she isn't getting herself into trouble. So far, so good, beyond the culinary disasters and the mess she made in the kitchen that gave Levi absolute fits.

He's reading a book on a bench outside the diner where she's eating a salad, keeping watch, when he notices her apparent sudden headache. He remembers that too, and the hideous pain of coming back into himself, so he stands up and hurries into the diner.

"Hello, Diana." Erwin keeps his voice calm and non-threatening, sliding into the booth across from her. "Would you like some company on the walk home?"

Were she in her right mind, Diana would have noticed someone following her days ago. It was a basic part of her training under Antiope to be acutely aware of her surroundings at all times, and never in the past hundred years has she ignored that lesson--but the past week, she hasn't had a choice. Her mind has been lost in a fog, all of her thoughts and feelings somehow boxed up and shoved into a dark corner of her head.

Until now.

It's like waking up, slowly, painfully. But it isn't all at once; one second, she's aware of where she is and what she's done this week, and the next the fog descends once more. When Erwin first sits across from her, that plastic smile is back on her face, her empty, cheerful voice filling the space between them as the waitress places the check on the table with hardly a glance at either of them.

"Good evening, Erwin. That's so gentlemanly of you! I would appreciate an escort, thank you." Almost as soon as she's done speaking her expression flickers, chipper smile slipping as her brows draw together in confusion. "I--I didn't see you here earlier."

Erwin watches in horrified fascination as she shifts between herself and what the city wants her to be. Is that what he'd been like, when he was coming back into himself? He only remembers a searing, blinding headache, and then waking up feeling normal for the first time in days.

He tosses a bill on the tray the waitress brought, waving her away with a soft command of no change.

"I know you didn't. I was walking past and noticed you in here." He smiles at her, but doesn't reach out. He knows how strong she is--he's seen the splintered trees in the backyard next door--and if she's confused, she might lash out without realizing it. "I thought I'd come in to say hello, and see if you'd like to walk home with me."

All very polite, very nonthreatening, and not likely to attract any unwanted attention. Erwin's main goal is to get her out of here and back home, so that the worst of this will happen in privacy.

She tries to thank him for paying, but her mouth is stuck in that smile, her face like a rictus she can't shake. She can't get her jaw to work, to say the words in her head, and for the first time all week, that feels wrong. Her heart beats a little faster, and she fights for control of her mind, of her very body.

All she manages is a a jerky nod of her head, her smile straining.

"How kind." The hollow tone that has haunted her voice all week seems to have faded, if just slightly. Mechanically, if a little shaky, she places her hands on the table to push herself up from her seat so they can leave the restaurant. The throbbing in her head is back, but with it comes a certain clarity. She exhales slowly, eyes focusing on him, losing that glazed look they've been holding. "I would like to go back to the house now." The fact that she doesn't call it my home or mention needing to get back home to my husband is already a clue that her mind is being unchained.

"Of course." Erwin can't help but wonder if he'd struggled like she is, when he was coming out of his haze. While the more analytical part of him wants to watch this all take place and see how it unfolds, the more human part of him is worried about his friend, and wants to get her somewhere safe and out of sight so she can have this struggle in privacy.

Once Diana is on her feet, Erwin slips his arm through one of hers and starts leading her out, politely diffusing any Robbie attempts to bother them. No, it's fine, I'm her neighbor and I'm taking her home, don't worry... It's almost astounding how quickly they accept that at face value, and leave them in peace. Today, Erwin is grateful for it; tomorrow, he'll wonder what would have happened if he'd had ill intent towards Diana.

Once they're out on the street and away from prying eyes, Erwin ducks his head close to hers and speaks quietly. "You're starting to wake up, aren't you? The lights are fading in your head. You're going to have a monstrous headache in a few minutes."

The ache in her head subsides slightly, and she continues to smile at the neighbors they pass, though she lets Erwin do the talking. Her steps don't falter, even when the headache returns. All she does is tighten her grip on his arm just a bit, fighting the way her vision doubles.

The town is quiet at this time of night, and as her wits start to return, she's grateful for it. She doesn't want to draw any further attention to them. Finally, her tongue seems to be working again, and she nods rigidly.

"I'm already there, I think. Mostly." Her words are stilted. She knows she should say more, thank him for being in the right place at the right time, but her lips feel glued shut again as whatever force had taken over her brain fights for control. Her teeth grind together, but she struggles against it, and knows in her heart that she's winning. Freedom is on the other side of an immense slog through her clouded mind; all she can do is take it one step at a time.

"Good. You should be completely back to normal by morning, then." If not sooner, but Erwin doesn't want to underestimate the time and get her excited for no reason. It's not like he has a lot of experience with this and can pinpoint it with any accuracy. "You don't have to keep talking to me if it's difficult. Don't force yourself if it's painful."

On the other hand, if she finds it helpful, Erwin is more than happy to keep talking with her.

It's not a long walk back to their street, and Erwin takes her to the house she shares with Levi. He's been there often enough that he opens the door and leads her in without any shame or sense of being intrusive. "Would you like a cup of tea? I found that helped me when I was waking up."

He's just going to assume the answer is yes and takes her to the kitchen, guiding her to the table and then getting started on making tea. He knows where Levi keeps all the good stuff.

She wants to tell him that talking is fine, but it seems as if her mouth has glued itself shut again, the fog trying to rush forward. It takes everything she has to beat it back again; she will not let it control her. She cannot.

They're already at the house by the time she feels as if she can speak again, but she's already seated at the table when she finally finds the words. "Strong tea." Getting each word out is like wading through hip-deep muck, and it's a wonder she managed it at all. She goes on: "Lots of sugar." Something to wake her up, kickstart her mind. She's prefer coffee, but perhaps tea is a better place to start. There's a ritual to it, and watching him move about the kitchen is a good way to focus her mind on the present.

"Of course." Unfortunately for Diana, Erwin took her back to her house and not his. If they were next door, he'd know exactly where the coffee is, and could brew up a good strong pot. Here, he only knows where Levi keeps the tea, and even finding sugar for it is a bit of a search.

Making it good and strong, though, is easy. Erwin has plenty of experience brewing tea until it's dark and bold and ready to jump out of the pot.

Erwin stays quiet as he makes them both tea, and then sits down at the table across from her, with the tea set laid about between them. "Would you like me to pour it, or would you like to do the honors?"

He figures that pouring tea is likely a skill the city would leave intact, but doing it for herself as she wakes up can't hurt.

[ their household has definitely been having a difficult time, but lorna doubts any one of them has been advertising that fact. she certainly hasn't been on the rare occasions she's ventured out. when diana shows at her door, she's recognized as one of the people who doesn't belong here, but not one she's talked to often, if at all. it's enough for her to open the door when diana rings her bell, but what she's carrying and what she's saying makes her immediately wary. her eyes narrow as she remains in the doorway, in case diana tries to walk in. ]

Very considerate of you. [ she gives her a once over, taking note of the pastel dress and too bright smile. ] Why me, in particular?

[The jello-monstrosity is leaking a little from beneath the glass cloche, not having set quite right. But Diana certainly doesn't seem to notice, holding it steady in her perfectly manicured hands even as green goo threatens to drip over her fingers.]

Just to be neighborly, of course! I live over on Midwich Street.

[She says it with that same overly chipper tone she's had all week, her smile unchanging.]

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feel it still [open]

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i been feeling it since 1966 now | one

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