#[I'm not sure why I made this an audio log even though it isn't visible IC drgfgdgf]

[o5-blackbird]

Word Count: 1816 Content Warnings: Very mild self-harm, arguing, & referenced death. Visibility: Not visible IC to characters/muses or anons.

[Media: Audio log lasting about eleven minutes and eleven seconds.]

As the audio begins to establish itself, one overarching sound can be heard; footsteps. They’re quick and sharp, almost as if someone is in a half run. The steps fall quick and heavy and as someone can be heard harshly breathing in and out.

The steps echo slightly, a mumbled conversation heard over the background. It sounds as if the audio is picking up a hallway.

Another slightly sharp breath in from the person carrying the phone and then a loud dull noise of something hitting something wooden and hollow is heard which is followed almost immediately by a sharp crack as the item rebounds against a wall. 

Something metallic can be heard clanging to the ground a moment later alongside a sharp thump of someone hitting a limb against something wooden.

Dogwood, quietly and sounding as if he is trying to regain his breath: Fuckin’ hell- … Kid, you’re goin’ to give me a heart attack-

Experimenter, sharply: You fucking lied to me. You haven’t fucking been anywhere even close to visiting Five. Where the fuck have you been?

Dogwood: What the hell are you talkin’ about–

Experimenter, interrupting: Five. I talked to him. You haven’t fucking visited him in weeks. Wh-

Dogwood: Slow down–

Experimenter, his tone sharpening: No, I won’t fucking ‘slow down’. What the fuck is going on with you and Five? Why haven’t you been fucking visiting him and then telling me that you have? What fucking point does that serve? I would have checked in more if I knew he was fucking alone?

As Experimenter speaks, his words are sharp and blunt. The tone comes out fragmented though, as if he is out of breath or finding the words difficult to articulate. It sounds like he is thinking faster than he is able to get the words out.

Dogwood: Six, just slow down now–

Experimenter, struggling: No. You-... You fucking lied and–... And I–...

Some rustling can be heard soon followed by some softer footsteps. The footsteps lead closer before walking behind where the audio is picking up. Dogwood can be heard softly saying the word ‘out’ somewhere distant before a pair of other footsteps began to leave, the sound of the door closing and softly clicking shut heard moments later.

All the while, Experimenter can be heard breathing a little unevenly in the background. If one listens closely enough, there is a soft tapping noise of skin against fabric as well…

Dogwood, softly after pausing for a few moments: … Sit down if you need to. … Can’t be healthy for you to keep bargin’ in my office and doin’ this…

Experimenter, his tone uneven: I’m not fucking–... I’m not fucking w–

Dogwood: I didn’t say you’re anythin’... Just sayin’ this don’t look healthy…

Experimenter: …

Dogwood: … Take your time. … I get you’re upset but I’m not goin’ anywhere… Need t’ fix this before I can get back to work.

As he speaks, he can be heard patting a wooden surface a couple of times.

Experimenter: …

Dogwood, softly with a touch of lightheartedness: Th’ leg broke on me. Who knew standin’ on a desk tryin’ to fix a broken light just leaves you in a dark room with a broken desk, huh? Ain’t that a shocker?

Experimenter: …

Dogwood: … Ah, well. Guess I can’t please every crowd… … Really though, just take your time. Breathin’ can just be like that sometimes. Not any fault of your own.

Experimenter: You’re a fucking–...

The tapping sharpens briefly before softening for another moment.

Dogwood: …

Experimenter: …

Dogwood, softly: … Take your time. I ain’t goin’ to judge.

The audio fell quiet after a few moments, the only noises filtering through the room sounding like the harsh breathing of someone trying to catch their breath but finding it escaping them each time. After a few moments the sound of wood scraping against the floor could be heard, soon accompanied by someone sounding as if they were slamming themself down harshly to sit in a chair. Moments later, the dull sound of a strike of a fist hitting something, the sound replacing the soft tapping from moments prior. Barely more than a moment later, another. Then another. Then another.

The sound continued in a disjointed pattern, almost level with the breathing but just slightly faster. Sometimes it would pause for a moment before continuing even harsher.

Dogwood fell quiet at the noise, seeming to pause for a few moments.

Then… As the noise continued, another noise could be heard returning as Dogwood continued with his work on fixing the desk, choosing not to remark on the continued strikes.

The minutes slowly passed. After about a minute, the repetitive noises began to slow and soften before resting into a middle ground between the initial tapping and the harsh strikes… Experimenter’s breathing could be heard softening alongside it until it was nearly back to normal, still faintly strained.

Eventually, it was only the softer tapping that remained. Even then, it took another minute or so before he spoke again.

Experimenter, a little more level than before: … Why are you fucking humoring me? I didn’t fucking visit him either.

Dogwood, softly: … Eh. I figure mistakes happen… Ain’t very kind of me to point ‘em out if I don’t need to. … You sound better.

Experimenter, a small amount of sharpness returning in his tone: … You fucking lied to me. You lied to him. I thought you would fucking be there for him-

Dogwood: … Set the anger down for once. I’m just a tired old man sittin’ across a broken desk. You don’t have to yell at me t’ tell me you’re pissed… I get it. I know.

Experimenter: What the fuck do you want from me?

Dogwood: I want you to stop believin’ in a myth, kid.

The two fell quiet for a few moments.

Experimenter, quietly: … A ‘myth’...?

Dogwood: … Yeah. All that shit you’ve been chasin’ for a while now.

Experimenter: What are you talking about…?

Dogwood, calmly: … Your friend, th’ other Eight. They’re going to kill him for doin’ what he believed was right decades prior and helpin’ save the life of that woman as if it’s goin’ to change anythin’ in the present besides stuffin’ another body in a bag…?

Experimenter: … I-... That isn’t-

Dogwood, his tone maintaining the same softness while a small edge of seriousness began to rise to the surface: –And how about Five? I didn’t fuckin’ exaggerate when I said the other’s are digging for blood – all while refusing to acknowledge th’ fact that tensions against Manna Charitable, the Gamers ‘gainst Weed, and all the rest of them had been buildin’ for years now cause of our own increased restrictions and cracking down on them just tryin’ to push for an alternative and a hell-of-a-lot-healthier way of viewin’ the anomalous world then we’d ever been able to scrap our heads ‘gainst all while we can’t even dig into a few more names then that single damned Tiebreaker?

Experimenter: …

Dogwood, bluntly: –But of course, they’re not th’ only ones. Willow’s goin’ to drop pretty soon too and I’ve got a suspicion not many of that council’s goin’ to have anythin’ to say about it – especially not when they can use it as a chance to wrap another ‘manufactured god’ around their wrists.

Experimenter: Eight wouldn’t-

Dogwood, his tone sharpening: How ‘bout we look back to our own history as well since we already touched on it? You ever do some light readin’ on some of our older folks? Did you know they killed The Father over suspicions? Did you know they knew where the Kid, Forgotten and–

He hesitates for a moment, seeming momentarily caught on his own words. Despite the pause lasting only a moment, the strange way that it cuts through the air between his sharp words and harsh tone makes it feel like minutes. Then, as if the strange silence had not even occurred, he picked his tone back up from exactly where it left off – potentially even sounding even more fevered.

Dogwood: –And fuckin’ Frost were all trapped? Did you know they didn’t save them anyways cause they didn’t think they had enough resources? Did you know so many people fucking volunteered to go in and to try and rescue them? Did you know old Charlie tried to press concerns about the direction th’ Foundation was beginning to take for years prior to finally snapping and taking her leave to go fix things her own way? Did you know the Insurgency exists because of their own neglect? Did you know The Hand was born of their shortcomings? Did you know that maybe – just maybe – there’s somethin’ fuckin’ wrong with throwing people in cages and pinnin’ the blame on people who just want to fucking survive? Did you know there’s other ways of goin’ about things then the same old winding path we’ve been trailin’ for years? Did you know that? Did you know any of that?

Another silence cuts through the thick air of the recording. Neither seemed to know what to say in response to Dogwood’s harsh words. … Much less the unsaid content of the words.

Experimenter: …

Dogwood, his tone softening once more: … I want you to stop believin’ in a myth, Six… It’s a vicious cycle – I get that. You believe in somethin’ and you think with your whole heart that maybe if you keep your head down and your hands clean then somethin’ will click and the bad things just… Go away.

Experimenter, slowly: … –But the things… Don’t go away?

Dogwood: … No. They don’t… Not on their own. Everythin’ takes a little elbow grease, a little passion, a little chippin’ away at the things that are uncomfortable…

Experimenter: …

Dogwood: … I guess this is my question for you. I’m just a tired old man sitting across a broken desk – you’re welcome t’ turn around and leave this conversation and by the time the morning sun rises, it’ll be like nothin’ ever touched your faithful little myth of peace in this world…

Experimenter: … Or–...?

Dogwood: … –Or you can sit down and listen to an old man ramble for a little bit while I get on with fixin’ a desk I ain’t goin’ to use for long… I promise I’ll make it worth your while.

A few quiet moments passed.

Where the previous silence had carried a horrible tension and stench of hatred, regret, anger, loss, bitterness, resentment, disdain, sadness, acidity, mourning, grief, rage, melancholy, wrath and far more than can be described by words alone, this silence held something different. While all the emotions from the past lingered gently in the background, one single overarching soft feeling rested in the foreground of it all…

Hope. For better; for worse. Hope.

Experimenter: … Okay.