Philip LaFresque and Jack Daniel's depressing day in the kitchen [29/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ And then this happened and Philip was back in his body. Just like that. Just... like that.

Not that the time off was a breeze, oh no. The things he said to some people, the things Clarence did, but... there are the things he didn't do. The things he could've done so easily and yet--

And yet Philip is back in his body and nobody is hurt. Nobody

Comments

GET SOME ACTION

[blimeyjamwalls]

Sick from boozing and written in prose, Daniel has finally accepted that his current life cycle, which looks something like this:

wake up => drink => hallucinate => drink => self-prescribe => fall asleep

...is not going to help him recover from his horrible murder or even be sustainable in the long run. It's gone on even longer than the last time he died. He should really make more friends who don't kill him recreationally.

He's staggered down to the kitchen, severely unkempt and visibly hung over, for some real food. Or, in the very likely event that he can't keep that down, at least an area that isn't his own stuffy, over-lived-in room.

Daniel slips in, sees Philip, draws back an inch and... closes his eyes for several seconds, waiting for the vision to pass.

Which, when he opens them again, it hasn't.

Not that that proves anything.

OH YEAH BABY

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip himself has slipped into a deep state of confusion and prose. The lure of a soothingly straining bath in misery and booze is ever tempting, but he resists, once again putting off a complete breakdown for the sake of his search for answers.

...Only search turns out to be a very loosely defined term, presently consisting of little more than a deep and thoughtful glance into a glass of whiskey. And another. And the next, all the while asking himself why and what and on occasion even howBut wait, that was a while ago. Now it gets even more bizarre

[blimeyjamwalls]

Well, now Daniel MUST be hallucinating.

Philip's there. Maybe. Reasonably enough, since it's the kitchen, despite the deep sense of unreality that booze and psychosis and multiple resurrection have cast over Daniel's days. But some other hallucinations start out perfectly reasonable as well. So is he second-guessing himself now? Eighth-guessing? Does that mean that it probably is Philip or probably isn't?

...Daniel's brain isn't up to all this heavy lifting just now.

Let's go with real until proven otherwise. In which case, it's good to see the man. Daniel moves further into the kitchen, headed for... nothing in particular, actually; the savoury smell of the soup is making him feel ill.

"Philip?"

1/too lazy to count

[sadfreezingbrit]

You are the PHILIP in question. Your hobbies include PHYSICS of the theoretical variety, MOVIES of which you have seen well over three thousand by now and HEARING VOICES, although only the latter even remotely pertains to your current situation.

You recently found yourself forced to commit TERRIBLE ACTS OF LECHERY on your dearest and most PLATONIC FRIEND.

> Philip: Utter the name of your dearest and most platonic friend in a shaky voice while gazing up in dramatic surprise.

2/more

[sadfreezingbrit]

"Dan..."

Philip looks up, visibly surprised. His voice is fittingly shaky.

He was really hoping he'd be done with the emotionally draining encounters for today.

3/4

[sadfreezingbrit]

You recall your last meeting ALL TOO VIVIDLY. There are too many questions you want to ask, too much that has been going through your mind over and over again ever since you regained CONTROL OF YOUR BODY.

It all comes crashing down on your head now and you have absolutely no idea what to say or where to even begin.

> Philip: Be overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions.

4/thank you that is all

[sadfreezingbrit]

You are now overwhelmed with THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS.

(Although you question whether you really needed an EXTRA TAG for that.)

and just in case I hadn't mentioned it enough, I love you

[blimeyjamwalls]

> Daniel: Outdo that stunningly beautiful sequence of tags.

You can't. You just can't do it. It is not within your power.

You briefly consider RETIRING TO A NUNNERY for the rest of your roleplaying career to reflect upon the beauty of that which you have seen. This is a STUPID IDEA. Instead you decide to REPLY IN KIND.

If this doesn't live up to the expectations of the SHINY ROLEPLAYING GOD opposite you, you're afraid you might have to find another way to SHOW YOUR DEVOTION, such as resorting once again to HUMAN SACRIFICE. The same HUMAN SACRIFICE which you are positive you did not reveal to your BEST FRIEND in an occasion of DRASTIC MISTAKEN IDENTITY.

"What... what's the matter?"

[sadfreezingbrit]

You've had your fun, but this is getting RATHER SILLY. You have worked hard for your reputation as RESPECTABLE NARRATION and want people to acknowledge you as such at first glance. The AUTHOR may grieve for you, but you must do what must be done.

> Narration: Stop being the Homestuck-esque narration.

Philip stands up. He isn't quite sure why.

"I- I just--"

He laughs weakly, not without an unsettling edge to it.

The time for confessions is now. This is the moment of truth.

"I haven't... seen you since the event and I- I was worried."

But then again, aren't we all guilty of just letting some moments slip through our fingers every once in a while?

[blimeyjamwalls]

"Oh. Ah. I..."

...never actually contacted Philip in the flesh at least because while he's consciously forgiven him for that one stabby Clarence escapade, some of him - more of him than he'd been aware of, when it comes to that particular pinch - remembers the incident quite clearly and remembers why this is his second death and wouldn't let him pick up the communicator

[sadfreezingbrit]

"If you killed somebody..."

Wow. That segue sounded a lot more subtle in his mind. Philip clears his throat.

"During the event, that- that wasn't your fault."

Then again, it just about matches the subtle glance of scrutiny he's giving Daniel now.

[blimeyjamwalls]

Keysmashwhat?!

Oh. Oh. During the event. Oh.

He looks at Philip, kind of hollowly.

"No." Wait, that probably needs qualifying. "No, I... I was killed."

By a friend again. In one of the most painful and horrifying ways he can imagine. Cue haunted look.

(He's not yet with it enough to catch on to the look of scrutiny. It's possible Philip is not so deep in whiskey that he couldn't catch on to the very brief look of sjaljsdaksak;akda.)

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip is presently deep in soup. And he can stand a lot of whiskey. The sjaljsdaksak;akda registers, because it was exactly what he was looking for.

...And he almost hates to admit it, because he finds himself torn again, between his curiosity and the silence that would be so much better for everyone involved.

"I'm sorry."

Philip sits down again (read: sacks into his chair limply) and looks up at Daniel, silently hoping he will join him at the table, but making no explicit motion to indicate the wish.

"I, um... me too."

[blimeyjamwalls]

Oh God, that part of his vision holds true. And yet Philip looks... well, actually surprisingly healthy. Healthier than usual, even, unless Daniel's perspective is skewed by his expectations. That's a relief. That's a very big relief.

Still, looks might be deceiving.

"...How are you faring?"

Daniel does, indeed, approach the table and sit down with an exhausted kind of slouch. He spares an ill kind of look for the soup, though.

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip notices the soup-related look with all the determined consideration of somebody who desperately wants to focus on anything but the question and issue at hand.

"...Should I put that away?"