The Girls Only! Forums

Help Desk In Your Head
by ~OsakanXKira

Help Desk In Your Head

Help adjusts his position, propping his feet up on his table, eyes glued intently on the book in his hands, deeming nothing beyond his desk worthy of note, or even worthy of a second glance around. Life in this mindscape is boring for him, it always has been, especially since their 'landlord'-so to speak- never does any real amount of introspect. When he was younger, Help would talk to him often, and they got along well. In those days, Help actually helped people and was happy to venture beyond his help desk and into the strange crevices of the mindscape to help the landlord figure out exactly what it was about himself and his own mind he wanted. But that was a long time ago, and things have changed. They haven't seen the landlord in years, both Scape-time and Waking-time. He hasn't been around inside his own scapes in years, but the effects of the life he lives beyond the boundaries of the realm Help knows show. Shelves and files collapse into heaps of shattered memories and broken hearts, fractured trusts and irreparable relationships. And as the aisles around him grew more run down and stressed, and Niz became more and more exhausted with his workload, Help stopped caring.

However, today was to be different from usual. Help wouldn't be able to finish his book anytime soon. There's a loud sound, like someone hitting the ground from a great height, and a long blue streak of cursing. The voice sounds familiar, but everyone in this mindscape has the landlord's voice-it doesn't mean anything to Help. He simply turns the page. But when a fist is slammed down on his desk several minutes later, Help glances over the top of his book with mild curiosity.

"Who the *bleep* are you?!" The loud voice demands, and Help frowns, his eyes returning to his book. It's the Landlord. After all these years, he returns and this is the first thing he asks Help? "Why the *bleep* do you have…." He's out of breath, and Help supposes that the impact he heard was the landlord. "Why the *bleep* do you have my face?!"

"Hello, Myke," Help responds quietly, "I suppose I should have known better to think you would still remember me." He's not bothered by his landlord's lack of recognition, but the cursing aimed at him perturbs him a fair bit.

"Who the hell are you?!" The landlord repeats his query, but Help isn't interested in answering. The landlord looks about wildly, at the expanding fractured darkness extending around the circular help desk in every direction, blank save for all the piles of books and broken shelves littering the barren mindscape. "What is this place?" He asks after a long moment.

"Your head."

"What?!" Years ago, a younger landlord would have been giddy to hear that, and would have asked so many energetic questions about it, but instead, this grown landlord simply curses another blue streak almost amounting to the question 'what are you talking about?' but with two to three cursewords between each vital word.

"This is your mindscape. I'm not surprised you don't remember what it is." Help wryly responds, choosing to carefully ignore the foul language, aiming a lazy gaze at the piles of books surrounding them. "It would do you some good to come visit more than once in a blue moon, you know. Then I wouldn't have to brief you on the basics every single time you come to visit."

"What the *bleep* is a mindscape?"

"Language, Mychael. I abhor the language you're using. Until you speak to me calmly with nary a cuss to be found in your speech, I am going to summarily ignore you."

"The *bleep* are you-" But Help is already tuning the landlord out, turning the page of his book. There's a lot of cursing, and the landlord storms off. Help watches him out of the corner of his eye, and gives a light huff. He'll be back soon- he doesn't know his mindscape any better than a two-year old would the laws of relativity anymore. He's just going to wander around in the darkness for a good long while and come about circle with the desk, hopefully much more receptive to Help's simple request. And Help knows this for a fact. He knows this because he's the Help aspect of the landlord's mindscape. He's supposed to know everything. And he wouldn't be a very good help aspect if he didn't know the way his landlord would react.

Scape-time, the landlord returns three hours later, shivering and looking haggard for his efforts. He glares at Help , then back at the darkness. "So….where am I?"

"…..This is your mindscape, as I told you before." Help doesn't look up at him.

"And what's that?"

"It is the world inside your mind. Not your brain-that's physical. We are inside your mind, sort of on a spiritual level. I've never cared for the specifics on how it works."

"And who are you?"

"I am an aspect of your mind. Every mind has aspects, that's how minds work. We're the stuff that science can't explain."

"Bullshit."

"Language again, Mychael."

"Traits, temperaments, and all that shit is genetics or something, isn't it?"

"Once upon a time you would have simply replied with 'really, Help? That's awesome!' But I see those days are long past you and we are back at skepticism and foul language again." The landlord scowls, but he doesn't push it. "You can say it's genetics if you want. I know what I know."

"So what other aspects are here, then?"

"Name a trait, you have that Aspect. If you lack a virtue, or a trait is lacking….then that Aspect is slacking off."

"Um….is there-"

"There is no Gay Aspect, Mychael." The things his landlord asks these days. He leans against the desk, his shivers nearly completely fled from his body now. "You do have a Libido aspect, and he is a tad on the…ah….odd side, but he favors no gender over the other. "

"H-he what?"

"He's your libido, Mychael. Libidos don't care either way, only you do. That would be repression talking." *bleep* Rep. He's always gotta have the first and last word in any conversation lately. He's basically taken over a lot of the mindscape lately, and while Help didn't understand it, it hadn't bothered him before now.

"But….he's in my head."

"So am I and Repression. And lots of other Aspects. How does being in your head make a difference? Some Aspects have more influence than others, but they only have as much control as you let them posess."

The landlord squints at Help. "Are you the nerd Aspect?"

"I am Help."

"You're not helpful."

"I haven't had anyone to help in five years, Waking time." Help looks up at his landlord with a disdainful icy glare. "That's a hell of a lot longer in here, Myke." He shuts his book almost violently and the sound echoes in the empty mindscape loudly. "A HELL of a lot longer."

"Well, fuck, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry?"

"Everyone's sorry." Help sets down the book on the desk. "But it never changes anything. Do you want me to get you outta here? Cause I wanna get you outta here." And to think he used to love spending time with this boy….and even the last time he saw him, fourteen and confused, muddled up with all the shit young teenagers often get, Help loved him more than he had ever loved him before. But this man, so cocky and foul-mouthed, irritates him to his core. How could they be the same person? How could this man he hates be the same as the boy he once loved?

"I still don't *bleep* get it!"

"No, of course not. As long as you keep giving Rep as much power as you are, you will never understand anything!" Help stands angrily, a furious scowl on his face, but it's responded with a confused look he hasn't seen since the landlord was a child, and it almost makes him reconsider his anger towards the man. Almost. "Niz!" The exhausted blonde stumbles from the darkness, a stack of books tucked under one arm.

Niz is identical to the landlord, identical to Help, in face and body and voice, but Niz is haggard, dark bags under his eyes, and his clothes messy and half off a shoulder, his hair sticking up here and there. Once he was neat, prim, proper…wore a suit. But the shelves started collapsing a few Waking years ago, and Organization fell to just being Niz, a worn-out exhausted Aspect with too much on his plate to handle. "Help, wh-what's going on? I thought…" His voice is the same as the landlord's, if you sucked every ounce of energy you could from the man, leaving him only an empty tired shell.

"Look, Mychael, to get out, all you have to do is go find the Alarm Button. You can handle that, right?"

"I-"

"This is Organization. But you won't remember that the next time you visit. You never do." Help turns his gaze to Niz, and the Aspect squeaks at the animosity held there. "Niz, where do we keep the Alarm Button again?"

"Th-….the Nightmare Realm, Help. Every Nightmare's supposed to guard the Alarm Button from intruders, remember?"

"Never needed to know before now." Niz frowns. Help knows he's more visibly upset than he's ever been before, but-but! But he used to love this boy and now he hates this man! And it upsets him so much he can barely suppress his fury…he wants to cry, he wants to yell, he wants to beat the crap out of his landlord, he wants to shake him and ask him what happened to that happy innocent boy he used to love…but he doesn't do any of this. He'll just do his job and get the man out as soon as he can. This is his landlord, this is the way he is now.

"Help are you o-"

"Alright, then. Go to the Nightmare Realm. Either you'll find the Alarm Button and you can wake up on your own there, or you'll be killed by the Nightmare. Either way, you'll wake up, safe and sound in your bed, bemoaning what a crappy life you're living right now."

"Where the hell's the Nightmare Realm?"

"Just focus your mind on getting there, and walk straight into the darkness."

"You aren't gonna help me any, Help?"

"Fuck no." Help bares his teeth at his landlord furiously. "Now get outta here before I lose my temper with you." The landlord draws back instinctively at the predatory action and after a few curses, he quickly moves along, and Help can hear his footsteps drawing distant. He braces himself on his desk, head drooping, chest heaving with deep breaths, trying to hold back sobs.

"Help, are you alright?" At Niz's voice, Help collapses into his chair, burying his head in his arms. "I'll take that as a no."

"I used to love him, Niz. He was so wonderful, so cute, so innocent…I enjoyed answering his questions. I was happy to help him."

"I know…." Niz walks next to Help, sitting atop the desk. "I miss that boy. We all loved him."

"What happened to him, Niz? Why do I hate him now?"

"He grew up, Help. Every boy has to grow up some time."

"Why'd he have to grow up into a douchebag, Niz?"

"Help…." Niz rubs Help's back, sighing. "He's just lending too much influence to too many less helpful Aspects. We're never going to get that boy back, you know….but we can try to adjust the power levels in here." Help hasn't seemed to have heard him.

"He was a good kid." Help's tie is getting soaked with tears and he doesn't care. "Goddammit, Niz, he was a good kid!" Niz pats his fellow Aspects head.

"Yeah, he was, Help. I miss him, too. We all do."

Help's In The City

Help doesn't always stay at his desk….sometimes he wanders around the mindscape, takes in the sights. To a visitor, the mindscape seems empty, but that's always because that's the entryway. If you go the right way, you'll find Downtown easily. Generally, the city is Libido's domain, but he's not picky who comes and goes in it, and is friendly towards other Aspects who just need some time off to relax from their stressful job. Like Niz. Which is mostly why Help's dragged the overworked Organization Aspect to the city today while the landlord spaces out in a college lecture. Lib himself is nowhere to be seen, but with all the bars and nightclub he's created within his city in the mindscape, he could be anywhere. Not that Help cares much….he'd like to avoid the queer aspect if at all possible.

Several buildings have been added to the city since the last time Help visited, and it would seem to him that Libido is actually trying to accommodate the wishes and requests of the other Aspects. There's a library now, a church, a police station, and a hospital. "….Why is there a hospital here, Help?" Niz shyly asks his friend, and Help frowns.

"I….I don't know. Maybe because Lib goes on benders?" The very presence of the hospital disturbs the Aspects-they're not physical, they're just spiritual representations of psychological traits so….so why….?! Help pushes Niz into the library quickly, and is pleased to find it empty and utterly silent. Their footsteps are loud in the large building, and Help curiously begins to peer at the many many shelves full of books.

"Hi, Help." Help forces himself not to look at the owner of the voice. "Do you like the library?" It's so casual, as if nothing's wrong. "I thought you would. How do you like the library, Niz?"

"Um….it's…it's nice. Hello, Lib."

"Mm." Lib lays a hand on Help's shoulder. "It's been a while since I've seen you in the city, Help. We should catch a show or head to a bar, whaddya say?"

"As if." Help snubs the friendly invite with a curt pair of words.

"Oh, come on, Help, it's daytime and it's pretty clear the landlord won't be doing any introspection today, if ever. You can slack off just a little, can't you?"

"I slack off every day he isn't here, but that's not the point." Help shoves Lib's hand from his shoulder with more force than necessary. "The point is, I don't want to slack off with you."

"Now that's rude. I'm plenty friendly." There's a pause. "You aren't even looking at me!"

"You're not worth looking at."

"Hey!" Lib grabs Help's shoulder, turning him to face him. He looks nearly just the same as Help has always remembered him. His hair is mussed, half carefully-styled muss, half exertion muss from a long day in a dance club, his shirt precariously balanced on one shoulder, the other sleeve strangely missing, his black club pants sitting low on his hips, his wrists jangling with bracelets and jewelry. He's just….disgusting to Help. The two look so different, Lib looking the way he does while Help stands there in what would be a perfect three-piece suit if he only had the right jacket. "Don't talk to me like that, Help. I can tell you're stressed out, and I wanna help! So why can't you just let me?"

"…..Because I hate you."

"Blunt, Help, very blunt." Lib sighs. "I think I've heard that before…in the live memory theater? It didn't work to help our landlord any, why should it help you, Help?" Help scowls. "Hey…." Lib grins. "Don't tell me….were you the one that gave the landlord that awful line? Oh my god, Help, you're just awful!" He laughs and laughs and Help's face begins to flush red.

"What else was he supposed to say to JC? That disgusting man is a disgrace to all-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, Help," Lib waves it off, "I know, he's a total cockhound, but what's the big deal? It wouldn't hurt Myke to cut loose a bit, you know."

"If he followed your definition of 'cutting loose' he'd have no strings left attached!"

"Is that so bad?" Help seizes Lib by the neck and the partier immediately rethinks his last line. "Ah, crap, look….alright, alright, look 'ere, Help…for the sake of moderation, I'll tone it down. I'm not saying that he needs to throw away his every inhibition, but he'd probably handle the whole pretend-gay thing a lot better if he was a bit more flexible. You know….just….just toss out a few inhibitions. Only a few."

"Good luck getting that past Repression, Libido," Niz says with a disapproving frown. "You haven't won a single battle with him over the past Waking month."

"I know…." Lib runs his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair, "I know, and it's frustrating. He won't allow me even the smallest tiny little victory! The closest I've gotten is when he turned around and let Myke pretend a bit better three weeks ago, but that was only after he beat me up saying that was a bad idea! The hypocrite."

"Rep's an odd duck, Lib, we've never denied that, but you're a thousand times worse than he is."

"I'm really not." Lib shakes free of Help's grip. "Besides, all of our troubles stem from Rep stepping in at the wrong time. If I had been allowed to continue handling the situation, it would have all worked out just fine and you know it!"

"Well…" Help looks away from Lib nervously. "Maybe…."

"Not maybe, Help, definitely. But nooooo…. Rep had to stick his big nose where it didn't belong and *bleep* everything up. Because he could never ever be wrong about anything, and if he thought it was a good idea, it had to be, right? Pff, yeah right…."

"Well…."

"So now Myke's all stressed and worn out and angry like a frickin' psycho and it's all stupid fuckin' Rep's fault, and our dear Micky just keeps on giving him more and more influence….and he doesn't even know it's Rep's own damn fault he's so screwed over in the first place!"

"There's nothing we can do without directly speaking to Mychael, and he doesn't do introspection anymore. I met him a couple of days ago, but he obviously didn't come here on purpose."

"Can't you force some introspection on him?"

"Lib, you sound like a rapist," Niz pouts and Lib flushes red very briefly.

"Shut up, Niz, I'm not." He crosses his arms. "Now, seems to me the problem's pretty obvious; it's Rep!"

"Mychael probably thinks his problem is Rob…."

"Humans have nothing to do with his problems." Lib shrugs. "Though Rob is a dick…." He taps his cheek, considering this. "Nice ass, though."

"LIBIDO!!" He looks at the other Aspects and laughs.

"I still think he's a dick, guys, I just think it's worth mentioning that he has a nice ass." He turns his back to them, checking out the view of the street from the window at the front of the library. "Now, c'mon, want to come drinking with me? Or to a club? You guys work the hardest of any Aspects I know, aside from Rep, but we all hate his guts so he doesn't count."

"Um….welll…." Niz and Help look at each other and Help shrugs. "I guess, Lib. You made all of the clubs here, right?"

"Yeah, I even put in a bunch of standard other patrons…but if you don't want to talk to any of them, I can take them out." Silence reigns as Lib realizes the flaw with what he just said and laughs, his cheeks red as he tries to wave off his social faux pas. "No, no, no, I didn't mean like…ha ha ha, not 'take them out' like that! I mean like getting rid of them! So we can drink alone!"

"That still sounded dirty to me, Lib…." Help says with a frown and Lib winks, sticking his tongue out at the Aspect teasingly.

"Well that's your own fault, then. You're the one who keeps finding double entendres in everything I say, not me."

"Sh-shut up, you!"

"Ah ha ha!"

The Stuff Of Nightmares

The Nightmare Realm is dark, spattered with patches of black light and dark red glowing embers of dull fire, hardly giving enough light to properly navigate the treacherous terrain that extends in every directions. There are buildings that cannot be seen until you run into them, stones that cannot be seen until you trip over them, trees that steal your hair and scar your back and arms when it is too late to disentangle yourself from them, open graves you are unaware of until you fall into their waiting arms. It is a ghost city, so similar to that of the Libido's but with one very large difference-Libido's is a city of life, dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure in life; this is a city that echoes the every fear you have and have ever had in its empty streets and broken landscape. No one in their right mind would live here….but It doesn't mind. This is It's territory.

It is a Nightmare, and the luxuries the other Aspects of the mindscape have a certain apprehension toward him he cannot fully comprehend. They are terrified of him, terrified of his razor-sharp claws and gnashing jaws and glowing eyes, but that is simply what It is and does. It is the Nightmare. He lives for the sole purpose of terrifying their landlord out of his pants, but he is not so monstrous as the Aspects assume. He wonders why the Aspects are so cruel, and supposes perhaps they are jealous. Yes, that must be it. Being a Nightmare, It sees the landlord on nearly a daily basis now, and the other aspects only meet him when he does introspection, which he never does anymore.

Libido is the only one who comes to visit, and even then only once in a blue moon, and even he is apprehensive of his animalistic crouch and shark teeth, but he plays poker face with the best and forces him to touch It and pat him on the back and pretend nothing about It bothers him. But It isn't stupid. It knows Libido is scared of him, and he doesn't know why. His job is to scare the landlord, not the other Aspects. He means them no harm, he never does. It isn't It's fault that he accidentally scratches people when he only tries to pat them on the head or the back. It isn't It's fault that his eyes glow like the power source of a Lovecraftian horror. It's not It's fault that his heart is exposed and beating with the steady beat of a funeral march. He's a Nightmare; he can't help any of it.

Unsure footsteps echo in It's city, and this is how It knows that it is nighttime and the landlord is troubled from his day with those strange new friends of his. It does not keep track of the Waking time like the other Aspects do; he has no clocks or watches, he can only rely on the landlord coming by at night. If the landlord comes by in the daytime, then his internal clock is going to be completely messed up. The other Aspects seem to think he doesn't like their landlord, but that's plain not true. It loves his Myke so much, more than any other aspect in the man's mindscape. It's just that his job is to scare his beloved landlord shitless, that's all. He really does love the man. It's pointed ears twitch as the landlord draws closer unknowingly. He runs a hand over his horns to check if they're still as sharp as they were the last time he checked. His fingers turn into a bloody mess. Yes, they're still sharp. Good. Well, it's just…if your job is to terrify the one you love, you can't make it a personal matter when you're on duty, you can't slack off. When you're on duty, you must do your best to do your job, no matter the target. If you perform less than your best, it's an insult to you both. If It were to slack off or go easy on his precious landlord, then the landlord would start to let down his guard and become an easy target for anyone in the Waking world to take advantage of. It's hair bristles when he thinks of that awful man (What was his name? J.C.? ) touching his landlord and hurting him. If It does a good job terrifying his Mychael, then the man stays on his toes when he's awake and he can see to it no one hurts him. So, really….It's duty is a great kindness to him, and the more he scares him, the more it proves he loves him.

Mychael draws into It's line of view, not that the man can tell-Myke can't see in the dark like It can. He's cursing profusely about his confusion and It smiles fondly. He hears that Help is not fond of the way that their Myke has grown up, but It doesn't care. It loves their landlord regardless. It's too bad the man can't find anyone in the Waking world who cares for him like It does. "Hello." His voice is high and distorted, like a demon, and Mychael finally looks directly at him. His eyes get wide and he takes a wary step backwards and It extends his claws. He has go out and hunt and kill his landlord now. It's a kindness, really. The man understands what the sound is and breaks into a run and It begins his animalistic dash after him. This is the greatest kindness he can do for his landlord to show him how much he loves him….the foolish man simply doesn't know it.