[ His expression is drifting because he's drifting. His thoughts are spiraling, and he's spiraling with them. Is this just how he's going to be from now on? It might make sense. How many years upon years did he spend in a place that pulled at his mind and his thoughts and caused him to question everything he did and said? Even now that he's free of that, maybe his mind is just permanently in that state of being.
Could it be both habit and defense mechanism? Alan thinks it's certainly something annoying.
The words seem to flow from him until they come to a stop, because the ideas have come to a stop. He always has words, because there never seems to be a shortage of them, but his ideas bubble up and then run their course until he lapses into silence like he's doing now. Then he feels Jesse move; he thinks he sees a ripple or hears a sound that he associates with Polaris, but maybe it's still only in his mind.
Her hands move from his face, and he registers the lack of warmth with her hands gone, but he doesn't protest. He doesn't really move, countering the spinning that his mind is doing. But then he registers an added weight as she settles herself in his lap. He can't help but look at her when she does; it's that gravitational pull tugging at him and forcing his focus from its inward state to an outward one: an outward one focused on her, and only her.
The darkness beyond the small circle of light still threatens to pull away his focus, and he still sees strange, frightening shapes that threaten him, but his eyes remain on hers. ]
... Hey. [ His voice is lower and quieter, and there's just the barest hint of a faraway look in his eyes that still are focusing on hers. ] Am I going to... [ It clicks in his mind what she's just said and he instantly shakes his head. ]
Never. Nothing's going to take you away, not the Dark Presence, not Scratch, not anything.
[ But sickness took Alice away. You can't fight that.
He doesn't have a counter for that, so he doesn't even try to give one. ]
I'm not letting it- I'm... how do I stop my own thoughts? They do what they want; they come up when they want, and I can't... I can see you, but it's the thoughts that won't go away. The intrusive, unwanted thoughts that won't stop.
[ Why won't they stop? She knows I want them to stop, right? I don't want this to keep happening, but I can't make it stop happening either. ]
I'm trying, I'm not giving up.
[ His hands clench into fists in front of him as frustration and annoyance and fear rise up all at once. In a way, he misses the things he could take aim at and fire at and bring down. He can't bring down his own mind, not without bringing himself down too. ]
no subject
Could it be both habit and defense mechanism? Alan thinks it's certainly something annoying.
The words seem to flow from him until they come to a stop, because the ideas have come to a stop. He always has words, because there never seems to be a shortage of them, but his ideas bubble up and then run their course until he lapses into silence like he's doing now. Then he feels Jesse move; he thinks he sees a ripple or hears a sound that he associates with Polaris, but maybe it's still only in his mind.
Her hands move from his face, and he registers the lack of warmth with her hands gone, but he doesn't protest. He doesn't really move, countering the spinning that his mind is doing. But then he registers an added weight as she settles herself in his lap. He can't help but look at her when she does; it's that gravitational pull tugging at him and forcing his focus from its inward state to an outward one: an outward one focused on her, and only her.
The darkness beyond the small circle of light still threatens to pull away his focus, and he still sees strange, frightening shapes that threaten him, but his eyes remain on hers. ]
... Hey. [ His voice is lower and quieter, and there's just the barest hint of a faraway look in his eyes that still are focusing on hers. ] Am I going to... [ It clicks in his mind what she's just said and he instantly shakes his head. ]
Never. Nothing's going to take you away, not the Dark Presence, not Scratch, not anything.
[ But sickness took Alice away. You can't fight that.
He doesn't have a counter for that, so he doesn't even try to give one. ]
I'm not letting it- I'm... how do I stop my own thoughts? They do what they want; they come up when they want, and I can't... I can see you, but it's the thoughts that won't go away. The intrusive, unwanted thoughts that won't stop.
[ Why won't they stop? She knows I want them to stop, right? I don't want this to keep happening, but I can't make it stop happening either. ]
I'm trying, I'm not giving up.
[ His hands clench into fists in front of him as frustration and annoyance and fear rise up all at once. In a way, he misses the things he could take aim at and fire at and bring down. He can't bring down his own mind, not without bringing himself down too. ]