( OPEN ) you believed in all your lies, didn't you

[godcards]

WHO: Malik Ishtar and Others (You!)
WHERE: Around, mostly in Freshens
WHEN: Mid to late April
WHAT: Malik is suffering the effects of the dreaded Magatus Mark
WARNINGS: Malik’s dubious mental health, teen angst, mentions of self injury in first prompt.


Magatus was disorienting in its newness. The blacking out that came after was more familiar to Malik than should be considered normal, but when he awoke and discovered that he hadn’t gone on another attempted murder spree and that things were relatively okay, he had ventured forth with a kinda-familiar person to see about getting rid of the new glowy mark on his skin.

He didn’t find the answer.

So he had left, huffing and pouting as he does, only to find that in the following days in returning to the city, the mark had started to spread. And sting. Like it wanted to remind him that it existed, and about the faint voices from the forest, whispering to him. He handled that the way he handled most other things: by ignoring it and hoping it went away. Like most other things, it didn’t go away, and it got worse.

ONE.
The mark had started on his forearm and had spread down towards his wrist. The glow was obnoxious, but not quite as bad as the sting. Malik had taken to picking at it, scrubbing it, and rubbed the skin red and raw. Still, the mark persisted. Even after wrapping it in bandaging (mostly to keep from ruining himself further), it still glowed.

He felt like people stared at him. Like they knew. Doesn’t matter where he was going or what he was doing, he couldn’t shake the feeling of silent persecution. It was really only a matter of time until he snapped at an unfortunate passerby:

“Stop looking at me!”


TWO.
Things continued to get worse. Malik found himself feeling ill and groggy. As completely wrong, delusional, and irrational he could be, he didn’t actually attribute this directly to the mark. More than he was getting sick in conjunction with being cursed. Being kicked while he was down, because that was definitely par for the course as far as he was concerned.

A simple illness requires a simple fix. Except with how tired and disconnected Malik felt, something as simple as getting cold medicine from the pharmacy inside of Freshens seemed a lot more arduous than it should be.

In fact, he doesn’t even know if he’s in the right aisle. Or the right store. Or the right plane of existence, as he stares blearily at children’s gummy vitamins.

Some of the store patrons plainly ignore him. Some get a bit unnerved. Because he just continues to stand there, unresponsive.


THREE.
The nightmare wasn’t over yet; in fact, you could say it was just beginning. A long, long series of nightmares. Everything Malik has been trying to push away, trying to ignore, hoping that it’ll solve itself and disappear on its own following him all hours of the day, beyond wakefulness and into his dreams. Everytime he drifted off, he had a nightmare. His cold was getting worse. The mark had spread further still. He was at rock bottom again, emotionally, despite making feeble attempts to put himself on the right path. However, he’s too exhausted, mentally and emotionally, to scream and tantrum about how unfair that is. He’s tired, he looks tired, as he zombie shuffles through Freshens, again, to get… something? Maybe? Out of his room, at least, so he doesn’t fall asleep again.

“Stupid… trees, stupid curse, stupid cold, stupid everything.” He repeats, several times as he goes up and down the grocery aisles. “They always want to make it my fault… I didn’t curse myself, it’s their fault.”

He picks a package of cheap, offbrand cookies from a nearby shelf and starts to tamper with the packaging. He’s unaware of anyone watching or scrutinizing his behavior. He keeps going, eating cookies as he does so: “Anytime I do anything, something goes wrong, that’s not my fault.”

In a stunning twist, he seems to recognize that people - at least one person - is watching him. This does not stop his cookie thievery, and instead he glowers, “The hell do you want?”


FOUR.
( choose your own adventure, or I’ll write something for you.)

Comments

ii

[compendiem]

[ While Minato was in the pharmacy to pick up something prescription, he's also looking to restock his supply of lemon cough drops and allergy medication before spring fully hits, and Malik is sort of in the way. Minato could maybe reach past him, over his shoulder and awkwardly close to his ear and pull something off the shelf without stabbing Malik in the eye with the packaging, but he also feels a bit bad to do that without at least saying hello. ]

...I'd recommend the tablets and not the gummies.

[ or offer unsolicited advice or whatever ]

[godcards]

[ That gets Malik to startle. For all Minato knows, he could have gotten away with stabbing him in the eye without saying a word. But here we are, with Malik jumping away, which is definitely a mistake, as it makes him woozy. It's almost a bit comical, if not a bit pathetic. ]

Huh? Wh-- No, I don't need gummy anything. I'm here for... [ A pause. What was he here for? ] --Cold medicine.

[ Then he realizes what he's looking at. ]

Not this stuff. I'm not a child.

[compendiem]

Vitamins aren't a bad idea to prevent colds, but it looks a little too late for that...

[ A nice way of saying "Hi, you look like shit." Minato turns back to the shelf and grabs the cough drops he'd meant to get now that Malik moved out of the way. The last three bags of lemon cough drops are his. ]

Colds usually go away on their own in around two weeks, though. Hang in there.

[godcards]

[ Thank Minato. ]

Then what is the point of medicine if it doesn't help?

[ His rage is far, far more tempered than usual. He snuffles, for bonus effect. ]

I never get sick. I don't have time to just wait around to get better!

[compendiem]

There's stuff to help core throats, fever, cough. Symptoms, mostly, if not the actual cold.

[ These things Minato could point Malik towards— colds are a very common thing for Minato, so he's very familiar with the layout of the pharmacy. ]

It's a good excuse to take some days off and sleep for a week. [ Actually-- ] Everything's settled with the living situation? Stress makes colds worse and last longer, probably.

[ Maybe this is why you got sick. ]

[godcards]

[ Malik wraps his arms around himself. From chills, or maybe he's feeling a little defensive too. It's a habit. ]

Yeah, I guess. But I'm not stressed about anything, they were getting better-- I got sick out of nowhere.

[ He also has that glowing mark on his arm, but he thinks he can still hide it with the bandaging and with long sleeves. "Hiding" is... debatable. It's not as obvious, sure, but still trying to emanate that spooky glow through the layers of fabric. ]

I've been sleeping. I told you, I don't ever get sick. I don't know where this came from! I don't know!

[ He's kinda stressed out. ]

[compendiem]

[ "I'm not stressed" yeah okay

Minato holds up his hands— actually, just the single hand, since the other is full of cough drops— in a hopefully placating manner so that Malik will stop shouting at him. ]

Colds come from other people. Maybe blame whoever you've been living with last. [ just casually throws whoever that was under the bus ig ] But if you tell me what's bothering you most, I could probably help you find something to make that a little better.

[godcards]

Then it's not a cold! I was living by myself until recently. [ It was a bad time. ] Actually... I'm still living by myself, but somewhere more consistent. I'm not around other people enough to catch a cold.

[ Not something he'd readily admit like this, but he wants to win this ""argument."" ]

I just don't feel well. I'm cold and nauseous all the time... I just want medicine to make me feel better.

[ That is literally not what a cold is, Malik, but. Okay. ]

iii

[pomaded]

[Really, Malik couldn't have gotten luckier insofar as witnesses to potential felonies go; Josuke himself has a pack of gum in his back pocket and a tube of mascara in his hand that may or may not join the gum at some point.]

You know, you could at least share. [Casually, he heads over and pretends to examine the nutritional benefits of chocolate chip cookies- then pulls a face.] On second thoughts, I'm on a diet.

[The cookies go right back on the shelf and, this time, he turns to Malik with a more genuine expression.]

... you don't look so great. You okay?

[godcards]

Yeah, I'm fine.

[ Just because Malik is a pathological liar doesn't make him a good one. He continues to eat a cookie defiantly, if not a bit deliriously. He's not sure where Josuke falls on the pure/delinquent scale, but he sorta expects to be reprimanded for his behavior either way. ]

Diet aside, I don't see why I should have to share my things when you could get one yourself. I'm just minding my own business...

[pomaded]

Sure, you are.

[Because most people who talk to themselves and angrily eat baked goods in the middle of convenience stores are "fine".

... but he's not about to be an asshole and get too sarcastic here.]

You got me there, though. [There's a pause and then he drops his voice.] Pretty bold of you to just stand there with it though. That clerk's been watchin' you for like five minutes.

[godcards]

There’s no cops here. [ He half shrugs. ] And I steal stuff all the time… And I know I can run faster than the cops.

[ Sometimes, anyway. Certainly those admissions wouldn’t have come out had he been more lucid and composed, but oh well, too late to take them back now. ]

They’re just cookies anyway, no one is going to miss them. They have a lot more… More than I can eat… It’s just one package, it’s fine.

i

[vitis]

[ oh! while not a fan of being snapped at (who is?), nor did he think he'd been looking much— john's successfully distracted. he stops in his steps, tossing up a hand in greeting.

if he immediately notices anything off, it doesn't show through the easygoing smile. ]

Oh! Malik, been a while. [ ... mm, no, that's relevant. ] Well, just a few weeks, really. How's it goin'?

[godcards]

[ It takes him a moment to register who this is. Oh. Plant guy. ]

It's... going. It's fine. Everything is fine.

[ Except he's still being a little aggressive? ]

[vitis]

Yeah? Good to hear!

[ everything is fine, recolle's slogan. boy, he knows that one. john shoves his hands into his pockets, glancing down the street and back to his reticent acquaintance. to try to impose, or not to try to impose? well, he doesn't quite enjoy malik's company enough to be considerate of feelings here and thus second guess an imposition. so!: ]

Where you headed? [ he sort of lifts his elbow; there's a cloth bag hanging from it. ] I was just thinkin' 'bout headed to the grocery. But! I also don't mind puttin' it off for later.

[godcards]

[ John is too friendly for his own good. Seriously, Malik has no idea what to do with this unshakable sunny disposition. ]

I’m not really going anywhere.

[ His tone lacks its usual hostile bite, instead, it seems more genuine. He’s figuratively lost. ]

[vitis]

Oh.

[ well, that's not a complete refusal of anything, he guesses. ]

Just... hangin' out then? [ on this street. john supposes that, as far as city streets go, it's a pretty okay street. ]

[godcards]

[ Malik feels so painfully awkward, like he's been caught in the act-- of what, he isn't sure, but he's felt similarly when he has been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, for example. Not a good feel. ]

Y...eah. I'm just... hanging out.

[ His arm starts to sting again, and he subconsciously starts to rub it. ]

Simply trying to fill my time.

[vitis]

[ john's eyes are drawn to the action of the rubbing, before they just as quickly return to malik's face. he does wonder if it's some nervous gesture, or... there are bandages there, aren't there? ]

Okay. [ he hitches his bag over his shoulde and begins strolling in the direction of some grocery store. probably not his standard fare of union grocery; sometimes, buying more than food is actually necessary. ] Let's go, then— there anythin' you think you'd need there?

[godcards]

[ Does... Does John expect him to follow? Is this what normal people do? Malik lets the question hang for a moment, while he settles for trotting just a little bit behind John. Being a follower feels weird. ]

I'm not really sure. Like I said... I'm just trying to kill time. [ A beat. He realizes how strange it is now that he has no hobbies. That he really does just wander aimlessly and get in trouble for lack of things to do (at least that's part of the reason). ]

-- Maybe something for my arm. Scratched it. [ He adds that quickly before he can be questioned about it. ]

three

[floret]

It was impossible to miss Malik shuffling up and down the aisles like a resentful zombie, looking not only haggard but vaguely magical. (It's hard to tell under the fluorescent lighting, but something definitely appears to be glowing.) Jamie's usual MO is to stay out of people's way, especially people who don't particularly care for him (or for anyone, in Malik's case?), but... Malik looks bad enough off that there may be an ethical obligation to attempt some sort of... something.

He's having a hard time figuring out what to do, though, or how to approach. So it's kind of nice that Malik does it for him. "Umm. Protein bars, I guess. What about you?"

[godcards]

He stares at Jamie, a bit droopy-eyed. The mental wheels are turning, but it takes him a moment to process what he’s thinking.

“I know you from somewhere… You’re familiar?”

Respatrum was too long ago to his sleep-deprived brain, just as his little runaway stint the month prior when he wanted to bully Jamie to make smoothies for him. It’s not really registering.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me,” He says, still staring.

[floret]

Jamie's not sure how he's looking at Malik, exactly... and truth be told, he's not exactly loving the way Malik's currently looking back at him. (Malik may be a few years younger, but he's also nearly a foot taller, and at the moment he might be infected by an alien parasite or something; who knows?)

Anyway, there's probably no point in asking What don't you like about it or something like that, so he'll put it aside for now. "Okay," he says. "Should I stop looking at you?"

[godcards]

For what it's worth, Malik is like, 125 pounds soaking wet, so as long as one looks past his tallness, he's really not that intimidating. He's basically a glorified beanpole. Still, that doesn't seem to matter now with the way Jamie is reacting; if this were any other time that Malik was more lucid, he'd get a kick out of it, but considering he's severely sleep deprived he's just kinda angry-looking and slow.

"Do you want something?"

It better not be his (stolen) cookies. No, he doesn't care that this doesn't even answer Jamie's question. He has his own questions to ask.

"Are you following me?"

[floret]

Jamie crosses his arms and tilts his head, considering carefully. The second question is much easier to answer than the first, so he starts there. "No, I'm not. I just happened to see you... other than protein bars, I guess I kind of want to know if you're okay? ...I mean, because you kind of look like you aren't okay."

(Honestly, he couldn't care less about the cookies. Get those carbs, bro.)