#extending a hand to cera. idk
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jazz-kity · 10 months ago
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SHUT UPPPPPPPP
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lizzytheauthor · 5 years ago
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Why not, right? Might as well just post it chapter by chapter. I might need to figure out how to like...archive all of them in one post or...maybe I could just do a page or something on the blog? Idk. I’ll figure it out later. Here’s the first chapter
Chapter 1
Yellow. Blinded by yellow. I feel wind? When did I get outside? I feel...peaceful.
I blink my eyes, and suddenly I’m laying in my bed. I look at the clock, 8am. On the dot. I look over and see a still vacant bed. I don’t remember going to sleep last night, but I...I don’t think I saw this Pete person. Maybe he’s not in yet, maybe he’s arriving later. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to be doing. My “treatment” is at 9. Which is in an hour. I can only assume that the treatment in question is some kind of hypnosis. I don’t believe it personally. People going under and acting strangely? Nonsense. They insist that after three or four treatments I’ll be cured? Impossible.
I can’t have been sitting there for more than 5 minutes, thinking about what to do with my time. But a quick glance at my clock read 8:50am. I swear it hasn’t been 50 minutes, yet the clock betrays me. Maybe I’m just zoning out. I’ll have to mention it to the doc-
Knock. Knock.
8:59. Hm.
I go over to the door, and open it to see one of the large men from the front. He just grunts, and I assume that means I follow him. His pace seems a lot slower, probably due to his hulking mass. It allows me to look at everything around me with more detail. The doors predictably all look the same, the halls are a bland beige with a dark blue line at about doorknob height. Occasionally there’s a potted plant at a corner, or alcove. It all reeks of hospital. I don’t like it, nor do I trust it. I especially don’t trust the time. I’ve heard of time blindness, but...surely it’s not this bad?
We round a corner, and start climbing some stairs. Strangely, it does feel like I know where I’m going? Maybe it’s just cause I’m following a large man who clearly does know. These steps feel a little more daunting. I get a sense of apprehension about just climbing them. Like...Well. It sounds silly. I feel like the stairs go on forever? It doesn’t, I mean, I can see the top. It’s right there. But it feels like it.
This thought made me turn around. I felt like I had climbed at least a dozen or so steps, and sure enough the landing is simply 6 or 7 steps down. I don’t know how to parse this information. I think it’s better to ignore it for now.
The hulking man never said a word, didn’t notice anything strange I guess. We did reach the top, after an agonizing amount of time, impossible for me to trust my own sense of time. The top of the stairs was dark. As we reached it, the light came on overhead. All I could see is an endless expanse of darkened halls. I suppose they’re motion sensors, and I’m the first treatment of the day. Maybe.
A split second, I could’ve sworn I could….hear something. I’m not sure what. Maybe it’s just the hum of the lights as they slowly gain heat from being on?
We pass door, after door, after door. It seems endless, monotonous, boring. Finally, after probably the longest walk down like 3 halls and some stairs, of my life. The large man stops, and gestures to a door.
I open it, and walk through, cause I can’t exactly tell that kind of man no, ya know? Inside the door, is a small room, there’s a single chair, under a light fixture, it’s somewhat reminiscent of a dentists office. But with less actual equipment. The door is closed behind me, and I decide to sit in the chair, cause I’m sure as hell not gonna stand. And I wait.
I wait. I wait. I wait. There’s no clock in here, so I don’t know how much time passes. If you pressed a gun to my head and asked me to tell you how much, I’d say 3 hours. Finally, the doorknob turned, and in came a doctor. A woman, early thirties probably. Long black hair, pulled into a ponytail. She’s wearing a white lab coat, and has small rectangular glasses, which she adjusted as she entered.
“Hello, uh” she looks at her clipboard, which I didn’t notice her holding previously. “Ralph. That’s a nice name.” she gives a smile, this one feels genuine. More sincere some how.
“Yea...uh...Hi?” I let out, I try not to stammer my words, I don’t even know why it’s hard for me to talk.
Her smile maintains, almost alleviating my previous concerns. Almost.
“My name is Cera. Cera O’Hara.” she extends her arm, to give me a handshake.
I think that’s what’s throwing me off, she’s the first person that seems..well...like a person. A genuine, sincere one. I take her hand, and shake it.
“Uh, can I. Hm.” I pause, maybe this is a weird question. “What time is it?”
“Oh!” she pulls out a pocket watch, it seems basic at a glance. As I stare at it, I notice there is an almost beautiful intricate etching in it. “It’s 9:15. Right, sorry about the lateness, I overslept on accident.” She puts away the pocket watch. “So, this first session isn’t going to be all that exciting. I just need to perform a basic analysis of your mental state, so I know how to properly proceed with treatment.” she lets out a light chuckle, “Not that I don’t trust the state’s doctors, but ‘C-PTSD’ is hardly a comprehensive diagnosis. It doesn’t even state causative traumas, attempted treatments, possible co-morbid diagnoses, et cetera.”
I nod my head as though I understand, but this is all way over my head. Honestly, it’s a little boring, and I almost feel as though I could fall asleep to her voice.
“So, let’s begin!” she says, with a clap.
Then, suddenly. I’m in my room. I...How did I get here? I don’t...quite remember…
A look at the clock above my door, it says it’s only 10:30...the sun is out, so it’s still morning. I remember in those ghost stories, that digital stuff is always unreliable, and old stuff works better. I focus my hearing, and I feel like with the silence of the building I can hear the motor in the clock, along with the Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Not digital. I breathe a sigh, but I don’t know if it’s from relief or...hm. Wait. No, there’s no apprehension. If I see Cera I’ll have to thank her...I’m sure this is probably her doing. It’s been...a while since I felt no tension in my shoulders.
I look at the calendar, and see there’s nothing on the schedule. Or rather, it’s more accurate to say that the only things on the calendar are treatment times. So I guess I have free access? I feel hungry, so I guess breakfast is as good as anything to start my day with. I hear it’s the most important meal of the day.
I chuckle at my dumb thought.
I begin to leave the room, and bump into him. I would not have expected pete to look like this, but I mean, he’s entering the room, so surely it’s him. He has curly red hair, glasses that seem more like binoculars on his eyes, and he’s so skinny, and short.
“Oh, uh, hi!” I try to let out, as I step aside letting him in.
He doesn’t respond immediately, instead goes to his bed and sits down. It takes a moment of agonizing silence, before he finally looks up, and notices me.
“Hello!!” he waves with this with a surprising cheerfulness, like I suddenly snapped him back into reality. “My name is Pete, are you just arriving?”
I nod, “uh, erm. No, I” I point to my bed, expecting it to be messy as I don’t remember making it. But… “Ah, well..uh, no. I came yesterday, I think.”
He looks mildly confused, but shrugs it off, “So you’ve had your first treatment then?”
“I...I think? I don’t remember. I remember the lady saying we weren’t doing anything today, but then I-”
“-’Woke up’ in your bed?” he finishes for me. “It happens.” he shrugs.
“So, that’s normal then?”
Pete thinks for a moment, “Uh, normal isn’t normal here. You’ll see, I think.” he takes out a drawing pad, and a pencil, and he starts drawing.
Not wanting to disturb my new roommate, I check the clock. 10:35. I could swear that it was longer than 5 minutes, but I suppose my sense of time is just shot. Oh! Breakfast, right. I’m hungry. My legs moved on their own, and I began to walk through the halls, I felt like I was on the second floor still, but a window I passed by betrayed me. I was on the first floor. I don’t recall any stairs. Maybe I was zoning out way harder than I thought. Finally I made it to the cafeteria.
“Hey ralph!” the jovial man handing food out addressed me, “You’re a little early for lunch, unless you want a second breakfast?” He waits for my response.
“Uh, wait, second? I never had a first.”
Brian winks at me, “Oh, I see, well here, how about some pancakes?” he seems to be sharing a one sided inside joke that I do not get.
“Sure, that sounds great!” the enthusiasm that erupts out of me surprises me.
The enthusiasm puts a thought into my mind that maybe this isn’t such nonsense. Brian puts a couple pancakes on my plate, and I walk to the table. I think about all the creepy stuff, but maybe it’s not actually creepy. Maybe it’s strange, yea, but I mean, if this fixes me, then why not? I feel better already, I think. And that was just after one treatment, which I was told wasn’t even anything.
My eyes feel kinda heavy. I should eat a little bit, for energy. I think.
With a blink, I’m transported away. A field of wheat. I notice immediately, that I’m alone, and the wheat seems endless. There’s no house, no building of any kind, no trees, nothing. Just endless wheat. I notice second, that I’m not scared. It actually feels peaceful.
I felt compelled to start walking, feeling the wind on my face, the wheat against my hands. I can almost hear voices carried by the wind, but no. I can’t make anything out. Honestly, it feels nice to just not be fearful. Stressed. I must be dreaming, right? I can’t quite wake up. Or rather, I can’t feel my sleeping body. I guess. It’s not another nightmare, yet, so I’ll just enjoy this. I’m sure it’s not unusual for a 19 year old to pass out in a cafeteria.
I walk endlessly, it feels like forever, and I know I can certainly not trust dream time. I can’t even trust my real time, so there’s no point really. I just walked. A building begins to blur into focus, in the distance. I decide to go towards it, I have nothing else to do. The building doesn’t seem to get any closer. Hours upon hours I walk towards it.
I think for a moment, that this actually IS another nightmare, but that’s not the feeling I feel. I still feel that serene grace. That quiet peace. Just walking. Maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s the sun on my face. I don’t know. I continue walking. This seems...Fami-
CLAP.
I’m ripped out of my dream. I don’t recognize the room I’m in, but it’s not a bedroom. I try and take in my surroundings, but everything seems fuzzy. Like, like trying to imagine your childhood room, by someone who is describing it through old pictures that are worn. You can almost tell where you are, but not quite.
“Hey, come back to me.” a girls voice. No, woman. Older for sure. Not terribly old.
I try to look at the voice, but it’s so hard to focus. Why can’t I focus?
“Feel your senses returning to you, become aware of your surroundings. It’s not terribly difficult. I do apologize for the abruptness, but this is the first time you’ve been alone.” as she says this, things start coming into focus. Slowly.
The woman in the room with me, has long brown hair. Her face feels gentle, even though it’s still slightly fuzzy.
“My name is Valerie. But please don’t call me that. Call me Val.” her attitude seems different. Normal? Well, not normal for this place. But, like, normal for outside.
I become acutely aware of the room. We’re in a gym or something. There’s weights, and exercise machines. We’re the only two in the room, and it’s much bigger than I thought it was at first.
All I can mutter is, “What?”
“Come on, surely you realize what’s happening?” she waits, and I just stand there. Clearly irritated, she continues, “Hypnosis? I mean really, you’re in a hypnosis institute. Did you think it’d be therapy and gumdrops for your stay?”
She goes to the door, and checks both ways out the halls.
“Hypnosis?” I ask. I still struggle to find my thoughts.
“Ugh, yes.” she hands me a watch, “Don’t let them see this. Try to not lose time.”
I check the watch, it’s digital. 3:39pm. I lost 5 hours.
“No, no no. This has to be wrong. It was only 10 something a second ago.” I protest, but she waves her hand dismissing it.
“Missing time means they’re stealing it.” she glances out again. “Hey, go to reception, and ask for a journal. They hand them out to everyone that asks. Keep track of...well. Keep track of anything that feels important.”
“What?” but it’s no use, she’s out the door and down the hall.
I guess...I guess I’m going to go to reception and get a journal. I step out of the gym, and try to get a feel for where I am. I honestly don’t know. I see some people who look like people who work here, and decide to approach them. After all, I haven’t done anything wrong, there’s no reason for me to fear these people. Right?
“Hey, I think I’m lost.” I start, “I was eating lunch, and then all of a sudden I was in that gym.”
Which isn’t entirely the truth, but also not a lie. Surely they’d understand.
“You’re not lost.” one of them says.
I take a step back, I...what?
“What? No, I...” but then it hits me. I do know where I am. No, wait. I don’t. I swear I don’t. But my feet are already moving. Whatever panic might have started building is swiftly replaced with a calm. I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.
I just, try and convince my feet I want to go to the receptionist. I pass some people dressed in clothes similar to mine, they don’t acknowledge my existence. I notice they seem happy, it feels genuine. Maybe. I doubt it. I continue walking down the light beige halls, with it’s green line at doorknob height. It seems off, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.
After a handful of minutes, I arrive at the receptionist desk. I see Miranda, typing at her computer. The computer looks like an old 90’s era computer. Not what I expected in this new age institute. At any rate, Miranda notices my presence.
“Oh! Ralph! Hello! Can I help you with anything?” her cheerful attitude is still overwhelming.
“Uh, y-yea. Can I have a journal? I want...I want to write my thoughts down.” I don’t quite know what I’m going to write, but…
“Oh, pesky thoughts. Always getting in the way, I think. Maybe writing them down will rid you of them!” she smiles at me, I don’t fully get her meaning, but that sounded threatening. She reaches under her desk and pulls out an all black notebook. It looks leather? I take it. “Off you go now, it’s almost time for bed!”
I look at the clock on the wall above her. 7:40. I glance to the front doors, to confirm that it is indeed night already. How did I lose…
“Uh, oh. Ok. Yea.” I turn and go back down the hall. I feel Miranda burning a hole in my back with her stare.
After I’m well out of Miranda’s gaze, I take the watch out of my pocket. 4:39pm. I don’t get it. I don’t understand. I look around the halls, and there’s no windows. I look at one of the plaques, and see I’ve already made it to my room. I...this is strange. I don’t understand. I shouldn’t, I mean. Once again I feel the panic start to build, and it swiftly gets crushed. Nothing. Calm? No, that’s not quite it.
I walk in, and see out the window, the sun is out. It’s not right. Nothing is right. I’m not. I don’t think I’m crazy. Am I?
“Hey dude, I’m about to go get some dinner.” Pete was still drawing on his bed. I don’t know if he’s moved at all from that spot, though he is laying down instead of sitting now. He looks at me, “Whoa, hey, you ok? You’re sweating.” he sits up, and grabs a remote to turn the ceiling fan on.
Did we always have one? I don’t remember.
Am I sweating? I must be, my clothes feel damp.
“Uh, I think I’m gonna lay down...Could, you..” I pause. I don’t know what to say. How do you explain this? Maybe he knows. “Do you lose time?”
He looks at me, concerned, “Yea. I do. Hey, let me grab some food for you, just lay down, take it easy.”
He walks off. I decide to write this in my journal. Maybe taking note of things will help me retain my sanity. I hope it does. I keep the watch next to my journal as I write, I really don’t want to ‘lose’ any more time. They don’t deserve it, it’s mine.
After writing how I felt, the time loss, the way this building seems to claim my sanity. I just lay there. I feel exceptionally exhausted, yet somehow still relaxed. Is this intentional? Is this fixing me? To be fair, I haven’t thought about my parents. I feel frustrated. Again, the feeling gets squished by a larger pacificati….that’s it. Pacification. That’s what I’m feeling.
Last time I looked at the watch it said 7:06pm. A little early, but my body needs the rest. Wait, wasn’t Pete going to bring me dinner?
I hope he’s ok. I can’t help but feel myself drift off to sleep at this thought. Yellow. Again, that blinding yellow.
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deputy-hawk · 7 years ago
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watch as i try and squeeze eleven more of these into the next 48 hours
part 5 rewatch:
black and white logo again, though it looks particularly grainy this time
the opening shots are dreamy serene vegas lights with something akin to elevator music in the background and it feels like peak dissociation already
i wish we’d seen more of lorraine, the anxious woman with the bruised face. who is she? is this her day job? if not, how exactly did she get involved with mr. duncan death’s amateur assassination squad?
CONSTANCE
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i know you’re probably tired of hearing about how gay i am for constance, but i really genuinely would marry this woman in a heartbeat
this is one of her best scenes and i’m heartbroken that we probably won’t get one more in the finale 
i guess it’s nice to know that even greasy doppelgangers in jail cells wash their hands before dinner?
i’d forgotten about that sudden cut to the s2 finale scene and i had my headphones in and my volume up way WAY too loud
mike nelson has a wedding ring? and seemingly owns this business? good for you, mike nelson.
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i wonder if he’s still friendly with bobby at all? i feel like the answer is probably no, considering all that cocaine they used to deal together
“you hang tough, harry” :(
doris truman: “the twins are coming this weekend”
doris’ jacket is the real deal, i would pay an embarrassing amount of money for something like that
i think the only other person in the return to come this close to capturing that very specific and uncomfortable lynchian vibe of So Bad It’s Compelling has been michael cera?
and by “bad” i don’t really mean “bad acting”, i mean “delivery so awkward and unnatural it becomes characterisation” and that is actually really hard to achieve, so props to doris
again, coop isn’t far away. he’s confused but he’s also very aware of his surroundings. his perceptive+empathetic reaction to sonny jim is proof enough of that.
“i think you’re having one of your episodes”
i still can’t believe there were so many “but why doesn’t anyone NOTICE” comments when that line was right there this early on in the season
so the statue outside dougie’s work is reminding coop simultaneously of his love for harry, the fbi, guns, and himself in his own hero narrative, right?? also there’s a significance to the image of a statue like that in and of itself, kind of an idealised perception of american masculinity, frozen in time?
it’s also probably the first statue he’s seen since the lodge
it points him directly to the door. harry leading the way.
there’s a lot of diversity in the extras hired for this season. shame that didn’t extend to the main cast.
the ambient noise of the crowd fading into soft jazz 
“damn good joe!”
i know that he falls into a deeper trance later, but honestly the more i watch these episodes, the more annoyed i’m getting at the implication that cooper ever felt like anything other than himself?
he’s right there, he’s him
phil bisby is on jade levels of kindness and decency and i love and appreciate him.
this whole thing is pretty good commentary on how mental health is treated in workplace environments tbh
when anthony sinclair realises “dougie” is “having one of his episodes” he just grunts, pulls his hand back uncomfortably, and walks away.
this guy joyfully and contentedly sipping his green tea latte is my favourite moment from this episode
i’ve said it before, but i love how many good and kind people there are in all walks of life on this show. there’s just so much optimism in these little character moments.
“he’s lying.” i still get chills
“agent... agent……” MORE CHILLS
i can’t believe that THIS was our introduction to the mitchum brothers and the girls. ominous strings, metallic clanging, a man on the verge of a panic attack.
to be fair, they do beat that man to a pulp
i still love them though 
casting and wardrobe did such a good job on the little neglected kid on the rancho rosa estate, he looks so malnourished
hailey gates was in a lot of the promo stuff considering she has one line
that music cue when she sits up and wipes the drool off her face as her son watches the fire through the window is Very Intense
JADE
and her ugly ugly car
are there really cars out there that look like that
jade i love you and everything you stand for, and i hope one day you find out that mailing that key gave a sad gay cowboy somewhere something to live for
i hope after norma sells off the other diners she has significantly less paperwork to do because just looking at all that is stressing me out
“if you don’t help her now, it’s gonna get a lot harder to help her later” “we both know that tune, don’t we?” :(
“and i’ll get you some bread.” “why?” “cause i heard you’ve been kneading it all day.” @ mark frost why are you like this
this becky sequence will never not be stunning
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if nothing else awful has happened since we last saw her, i wonder how she’s holding up through withdrawal??
i’m so glad we get our 60 seconds of quality hawk material in this episode. looking grave, turning pages, shaking his head. ideal.
russ tamblyn really is great but i feel like i’ve seen this scene two thousand times and i want to rip my own eyeballs out
“WHERE ARE THE COPS WHEN WE NEED THEM?”
#whereisharrytruman
lieutenant knox is, uh… *sweats* she’s, um, tall
my sister really hates this trouble performance? and i think she’s nuts? that saxophone solo tho
idk why, it might just be my truly terrible wifi connection (or the fact i usually watch this show at 2am when i’m already half asleep), but the flashing black box that shows up whenever evil shit’s afoot hasn’t appeared for me at all in this rewatch until this moment, richard “spawn of the devil” horne’s introduction
like, i’m 98% sure it appears in earlier episodes? i just haven’t been able to see it until now
“little fucking smoking babies, you make me laugh” – how appropriate that when he dies, he does so crying and screaming in a cloud of smoke
why is chrysta bell trying to personally murder me:
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i love this doppelcoop scene
and DAMN IT DAVID i’m not good with the audio jump scares!!!!
“the cow jumped over the moon”
tbh i feel like maybe we won’t get any definitive answers re:doppelcoop and jeffries, and in fact i sort of hope we don’t?
i really like this episode. aside from the more intense doppel and richard scenes, something about it is very gentle. there’s an inhale-exhale pattern to this season, and this is an exhale.
also albert wasn’t in it so my heart isn’t breaking for once
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