[closed]

[wirsinddiejager]

Who: Alan and Octavia
Where: Alan's house
When: August 12
What: Children talking about memories of horrible violent death

[Octavia somehow managed to talk Alan into having a 'strategic meeting' at his house a while ago. He's pretty sure it's going to involve discussion of costumes. Still, even arguing about spandex beats sitting alone in the house while his mom is out.

His reasons for not wanting to be alone have nothing to do with that echo he got yesterday. He's not freaking out. He's just bored.

Just keep telling yourself that and maybe it'll come true, Alan.]

Comments

[drama8om8]

[ It is a little-known fact that strategic meetings are always helped by the liberal application of lipgloss, sparkly eyeshadow and cutesy strappy red shoes that don't actually match the rest of your outfit. Luckily, Octavia is one of the well-educated few who do know this. Which is why she's showing up at Alan's place looking distinctly like someone who is going to be doing some super hottie level strategising.

YEAH.

She wobbles up the porch steps (okay, maybe the strappy shoes were a really bad idea. Fuck you, Cosmo fashion pages. Fuck you in the ear), smooths back her hair and knocks on the front door. This is going to be awesome. Awesome and cool and in no way horrid or distressing ever. ]

[wirsinddiejager]

[Alan opens the door, looking distinctly less prepared for super hottie level strategising. In fact, he looks kind of terrible. Not quite Pandalan - though he obviously hasn't been sleeping much - but the kind of terrible you get when you've been crying a lot and then try very hard not to look like it.]

Hey. Come on in.

[At least he sounds cheerful? Well, not really. He sounds like he's two seconds away from freaking the fuck out.]

[drama8om8]

[ Uh. Oh. Being a super great actress, Octavia is obviously able to stop herself reacting to this an-- ]

Wow, you look like shit.

[ ~*THAT'S OUR TAVIA*~

After a second, she realises this is pretty tactless. Tactless and also exactly what Cool Fireman Guy told her not to do when talking to boys. ]

I mean you look like shit happened. Was it another scorpion? Did you kill it already you better have killed it already.

[ She steps into the house. And by steps I mean wobbles. Fuck these shoes, seriously. ]

[wirsinddiejager]

Wow, thanks.

[He rolls his eyes, both at the remark and the wobbling, and leads the way into the living room.]

Nothing happened. No scorpions, no shit of any other kind. And I definitely didn't kill anything.

[He wonders if past him ever did kill any titans before getting eaten. At least that would presumably be better than killing humans.]

[drama8om8]

Oh, okay. So what, you gave up sleeping again? Do I have to remind you that Pandalan is not your best look?

[ She teeters into the living room behind him and plonks her butt onto the sofa. There is no polite waiting-to-be-offered-a-seat shit here. Not in these shoes. ]

I should have some concealer in my bag if you want to borrow it.

[ HELPING~ ]

[wirsinddiejager]

I've slept, okay.

[A little. It totally counts.]

Did you just want to come over to talk about how shit I look? Because you could have done that over the network too.

[He plops down in the chair opposite her and shoots her a sour look.]

[drama8om8]

Wow! Talk about grumpy. Geez.

[ She fishes in her bag and starts pulling at a large mass of red material. HEY. HEY ALAN. GUESS WHO BROUGHT CAPE SAMPLES.

Fuck you, Kanti, Tavia is fucking ON this shit. ]

I guess we can get straight to business and start trying these on? Seeing as you seem so eager!

[wirsinddiejager]

...Those are capes, aren't they.

[Oh god. He is so no in the mood for dealing with this. He's changed his mind, sitting alone in the house is better than costumes. But he can't just throw her out, can he? That'd be rude.]

Do you have anything that's not red? It's not really my colour.

[Except when he's bleeding from his arm getting bitten off. It doesn't help much knowing that it had happened to him before now that he remembers how much it hurt.

Suddenly feeling sick at the thought, he covers his mouth with a hand, looking kind of green.]

[drama8om8]

Alan. Please. Red is everybody's col-- AGH!

[ She recoils, scooting back on the sofa. BARFING IS A NO. NO. ]

Uh. Are you sure you're okay? Are you sick? Do you need the bathroom?

[ She starts stuffing the capes back in her bag, which should come as a relief. Small mercies, right? ]

[wirsinddiejager]

No, I. I'm fine. I'm not gonna puke.

[He's saying it to reassure himself as much as her, but after a moment he does lower his hand.]

I'm fine. I'm not sick or anything, I just thought of-

[-the stench of the thing's mouth and the light disappearing as its teeth snap shut on his arm and slipping down on its slick, wet tongue as it swallows-]

[He stands up suddenly, hand at his mouth again, and rushes off to the bathroom.]

[drama8om8]

[ Oh god. Super gross.

She considers going after him for a brief, stupid moment, but then settles for shuffling around uncomfortably on the sofa instead. This is possibly the worst strategic-meeting-slash-flirtmission ever. There is nothing hot or alluring about getting a guy grumped up and then making him run off to go puke.

Hmmm. Maybe she should just... Escape out of the window or something. Or maybe she should call after him. What's the polite thing to do here why doesn't Cosmopolitan give advice on this kind of shit oh god ]

[wirsinddiejager]

[While she waits, Alan does the following things:

a)Empty his stomach, which fortunately wasn't that full in the first place.

b)Try not to cry.

c)Cry a bit.

d)Wash his face and drink a glass of water in a desperate attempt to recover.

The end result is that when he returns, he looks even shittier than before.]

Uh. Sorry about that. I must be coming down with something after all, so, uh...maybe you should go.

[drama8om8]

[ As he returns Octavia stands up, bag full of capes slung over her arm and ready to leave. No way does she want to stick around so he can barf at her some more. There's only so much a lady's ego can take.

Then she actually looks at him, and holy fuck does he ever look like shit. Not sick. Just unbelievably shitty. Like someone took the state formerly known as shit, got a misty-eyed look on their face and whispered 'I could make this shittier'.

She puts the bag down, kicks off her lousy-goddamn-fucking-stupid-piece-of-shit-tottershoes as they almost trip her up again, and shakes her head. ]

Yeah, wow, no. If I leave you alone you might die or something, look at y-- have you been crying?

[ She leans in for a closer look. UR BUSTED, SON. ]

[wirsinddiejager]

[He flinches at the word die and leans back from her.]

I- no! Seriously, it's just a, a stomach flu or something, I'll be fine-

[Alan, stop. No one's buying this.]

[drama8om8]

If it's just a regular weaky-weak stomach flu then why the twitchy flinchy lying shit?

[ Wait.

Waity-wait wait.

Waiiiiiiiit.

Did he flinch at what Octavia thinks he flinched at, there? ]

OH MY GOD ALAN DID I GIVE YOU BRAIN CANCER.

[ She grabs Alan by the shoulders and tries to steer him towards the recently-vacated couch. OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD SHE'S A MURDERER OH FUCK OH GOD OH GEEZ ]

[wirsinddiejager]

...What? No.

[Oh god this is getting stupid and he is way too tired for this, so he just lets her direct him to the couch.]

Seriously, you didn't give me brain cancer. I...just got a bad echo, okay. That's all. And I didn't want to talk about it.

[drama8om8]

Didn't want to talk about it implying that you do now?

[ She plops down on the couch beside him. Okay. Okay. She's not really sure what kind of echo could be bad enough to cause this level of shittery. She's not sure she wants to know. After all, some of her own echoes have been really fucking bad and she hasn't been barfing or crying everywhere.

She's. Been disturbingly unaffected by most of them, actually. Wow, past her must've been a badass.

A wholly unlikable badass with no friends and an alarming tendency to get horribly maimed and OH WOW TIME TO BEHAVE LIKE A FRIEND TO HER FRIEND HERE. FRIEND. PAL. ]

You should tell me all about it! It might help. Buddy.

[wirsinddiejager]

I. Kind of remembered dying.

[It's surprisingly easy to say, considering that thinking about it still makes his stomach twist. It doesn't make him feel any better, either, but he didn't really expect it to.]

[drama8om8]

Uh. Wow! Wow. Okay. Wow.

[ Okay, that's pretty heavy. Even if it raises more questions than it answers.

At least he didn't actually echo the state of being dead. Is that a thing that can happen? OH GOD THAT BETTER NOT BE A THING THAT CAN HAPPEN. ]

So that must have been. Bad? Or really super majorly bad? The worst?

[wirsinddiejager]

Well, uh. I was eaten alive. So I think that pretty much counts as the worst.

[He's steadily staring at the floorboards now, trying to force as much distance as he can between himself and the words coming out of his mouth. He rubs absently at his left arm.]

My arm got bitten off. And I think I was missing a leg. I'm not really sure.

[drama8om8]

Oh! Hey! Which arm?

[ Wow, that sounded way too bright, didn't it. ]

I mean. I was just asking because. Me too! Lost an arm. I think a dragon ate it? Uh. The. Left one.

[ She's mumbling as she reaches the end of her sentence, and she awkwardly watches Alan rub at his arm. ]

Sorry, dude. I mean. Wow. That's pretty fucked.

[wirsinddiejager]

Huh. Maybe we should start a limb loss club or something.

[Wow, that sounded lame and depressing and stupid.]

I think I'd have grown it back if it wasn't for the whole. Dying thing. I remembered seeing both my arms and legs missing earlier. But that time it didn't hurt.

[drama8om8]

[ Wow. The fuck should anyone say to that, even. "Sucks about your limbs, dude?" Maybe bring up the "at least you're not dead now" angle? ]

Oh, come here.

[ She puts an arm around Alan's shoulders and pulls him in for a half-hug. She's allowed to be really unbelievably shitty at words if she can hug things better, right? Right. She has this covered. ]

[wirsinddiejager]

[It's weirdly comforting, actually. There really isn't much she could say to make it better, but it's nice to just have someone he can talk to about this stuff and who understands it even by a fraction. And though Alan would never admit it, hugs are pretty nice.]

[drama8om8]

No more dumb shitty loser "duh bluh I am man I can deal with this by myself dumb buh duh hurr" stuff, okay?

[ She hugsqueezes in a way that somehow manages to be bossy and comforting at the same time. Gurl has skills, yo. ]

If you bottle things up and let it get to the point where you look this shitty, your mom is going to notice. Good moms do that. They have innate mompowers or something. So knock it off! Talk to me or yell at Karson or go to the fireman guy or whatever. The lone wolf thing is not your most attractive look, Alan.