Lucas Evans | Philip (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kyoumibukai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2014-06-12 10:14 pm
kyoumibukai) wrote in savetheearth2014-06-12 10:14 pm
I see people on the floor, they're sliding into the sea...
Who: Lucas and Steven
When: June 11th, late
Where: An apartment building not too far from the dead district
What: Lucas echoes back the archive of all the world's knowledge, but unfortunately he's a little too wasted to make any use of it. Also he's too wasted to get out! Tw: substance/alcohol abuse, bad social decisions, teens in crisis
Lucas isn't unconscious, or even semi-conscious. In fact, he's probably as awake as he ever has been with six smirnoff ices, a shot of tequila, and weed inside him. He seems to be in a bush. And in fact, he is. He's lying in a bush outside a kind of crappy little apartment building. He's moving his hands like he's brushing them over something interesting just a few inches from his face. His feet are kind of scrabbling in the dirt...
Because in his mind, and in a reality that does exist in a significant if unsettling-from-the-outside way, he is walking through a vast library that contains all of the world's knowledge. So far he hasn't realized that it's not his Earth that this knowledge comes from, because in the most basic of ways it is completely indistinguishable. Of course, it can't tell him about people that didn't exist in his world, and there are many, but that doesn't bother him, since this is a library without a card catalog, and he has no way of looking things up in it.
When the lights had flickered at his good friend Fallon Mitford's college graduation party, he'd taken no notice of it. When they then went out completely, he was forced to pay attention, because of the echo that he had just gotten. It manifested as a sensation of something just beyond his reach, something real and important. And in the state he was - and still is - in, there was nothing that could keep him from reaching out towards it. He found himself in a bright, endless room, filled with books.
His friends, the other partygoers, were at first bemused by his strange, tripping motion through the room. Then they laughed as they brought in candles to light the party up again, and found that he said he couldn't see any of them. Confusion eventually crowded him from the room and out onto the stoop, where he tripped and landed in a bush.
He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing Steven's number by touch and memory, since the phone doesn't exist in the library. He hums a few bars of a tune to himself as he waits for Steven to pick up.
Because in his mind, and in a reality that does exist in a significant if unsettling-from-the-outside way, he is walking through a vast library that contains all of the world's knowledge. So far he hasn't realized that it's not his Earth that this knowledge comes from, because in the most basic of ways it is completely indistinguishable. Of course, it can't tell him about people that didn't exist in his world, and there are many, but that doesn't bother him, since this is a library without a card catalog, and he has no way of looking things up in it.
When the lights had flickered at his good friend Fallon Mitford's college graduation party, he'd taken no notice of it. When they then went out completely, he was forced to pay attention, because of the echo that he had just gotten. It manifested as a sensation of something just beyond his reach, something real and important. And in the state he was - and still is - in, there was nothing that could keep him from reaching out towards it. He found himself in a bright, endless room, filled with books.
His friends, the other partygoers, were at first bemused by his strange, tripping motion through the room. Then they laughed as they brought in candles to light the party up again, and found that he said he couldn't see any of them. Confusion eventually crowded him from the room and out onto the stoop, where he tripped and landed in a bush.
He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing Steven's number by touch and memory, since the phone doesn't exist in the library. He hums a few bars of a tune to himself as he waits for Steven to pick up.
lucas you're a mess
He reaches out aimlessly for the phone on the coffee table, not even wondering about who'd be calling him this late. It's only a Thursday, but he doesn't think things like that have ever stopped Lucas Evans - and his caller ID proves him right. (He wishes it hadn't.)
"I have to take this," he says to his Skype call, and hangs up to answer his phone, tucking it under his jaw. "Hello," he says.
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He slides his laptop off of his chest and leverages up with a short grunt.
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He pauses, blinking. "No wait, did I say I remembered the library? So I have a library in my head or something... Or Philip did. Whatever, uh. Look, anyway, with that car thing, I saw the car... on the news. And I remembered dragging the lady into the library. Whatever."
He stretches his arms over his head, bumping against a wall he can't see. "Aaaanyway, so I'm at this party, and uh. The lights go out and I echo back this library, right? And then now I'm stuck. In it."
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He gets to the point, eventually, and Steven breathes in, then out. "Where the hell are you?" he asks, "physically. Besides the library, I mean, I'm coming to get you." He'd put him up on the couch and give him a noogie in the morning. He looks around for his keys, after he pockets the gadgets. If there's still a blackout over there, he'll need the help.
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The phone sort of falls away, held between his hands and the invisible book. "Okay I'm just gonna read this book til you get back. Slime molds are totally fascinating."
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He has to hang up, in order to google the address, and soon enough a late-2000s silver Corolla pulls up in front of the building, lights on. Steven slides out of the car already calling for Lucas. He sets the gadgets free to help him out with looking - but frankly the dented bush by the stoop is all the visual he really needs. He takes off to duck under the branches and reach for Lucas' arm. "Lucas," he says, urgently, "Lucas?"
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He allows himself to be hoisted up, and leans heavily on Steven. His breath smells like teen booze, and his clothes smell fairly strongly of weed. "I would have stuck around the party, but these slime molds are way too interesting. Did you know that they're like, all one cell? It's crazy." He laughs nervously, suddenly feeling a little bit odd, somewhere aware that this is the first time Steven has seen him this fucked up.
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"Yeah, no, pffh. My mom's gotten used to me staying out. Plus, school's out. I told her I'd be staying over at a friend's graduation and she gave me that look that meant she knows it's not a friend she'd like." He sighs, and for a moment sounds almost kinda-sorta sober as he says, "I think she's just waiting for me to screw up."
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He unlocks the car with a click of the remote in his palm, and pulls it open. He stops before he moves to help Lucas slide into the car. "She's your mom. She's not," he says, "she probably just... don't know how to stop you." Then he moves to guide Lucas into the seat. "Don't hit your head on the doorframe," he says, quietly.
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He ducks his head way too much, folding his lean body almost in half to climb in. But he makes it nonetheless. "I guess." His mom used to lecture him. But she found very little to get mad about after a while. He kept his grades up. Really up. And he never came home drunk or high when his dad was in town. In her own special way, she made that edict clear. He followed it, even though he was sure his dad knew about the whole thing.
He leans his head back onto the car seat. "I feel like I'm like this close to knowing how to get out. Like it's a maze and I have to find the out. Maybe I just don't know how to work it."
"Haha, you know, I talked about you at the party." He purses his lips puckishly into empty space. He actually isn't even sure if Steven can hear him.
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He shuts the door and then leans over to take the buckle and strap Lucas in, feeling a little ridiculous but not willing to risk them getting pulled over for it. "It's brand new, that's not a surprise," he says. "I'd say 'follow my voice', but I don't know if that'll work." A beat. "Will that work?"
He starts the car, buckles in, and pulls away from the apartment and back toward his place. "And what're you saying about me at parties?" he asks, after a short stretch of silence.
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He thinks. "I don't... think so? I mean, it's hard to tell if it's coming from a particular direction or just... all around me." He hums, thinking about it. "It's a little echoey."
When he's buckled he does start to feel the car move. It's odd to feel movement but not see it. But he's never had any motion sickness, and he's not planning on starting now. It just blends in with the pleasant waviness of his drunkenness.
"Oh, ha ha. I mean, it was just like 'So hey Lucas wanna make out' or whatever and I was like nah... And then they were all shocked and stuff but I just don't feel like it since I met you! And they were all 'Lucas is in looooove' and shit." He laughs, waving his hands around, looking idly at the covers of the books in front of him, or into empty space, depending on your angle. "And, uh... and I was like, I dunno, maybe I am." He sighs, looking... Not sad, but perhaps a little bittersweet. "Anyway they asked me about you but they got distracted when Jonas started to do body shots off Fallon's abs. Which is okay, cos I don't want them to bug you."
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Then he flushes, embarrassed - either for Lucas or for himself, he's not sure - and looks sideways at him, momentarily. "Well, thanks for protecting my identity, I guess," he says, not really willing to approach this otherwise. He's got no interest in falling in with Lucas' brand of night-time entertainment, and that includes the friends who left him wasted in a bush outside an apartment. "Why the hell were you in that bush, anyway?" he asks.
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"Ehhh, I mean. I think Fallon just graduated from your same school so it would have been weird if I told them." He looks seriously over at where he believes Steven to be. "You know I haven't like... done anything with any dudes since the first time we met in person. I mean it's not like I don't want to. I just... don't want to, you know?" He gestures, indistinctly.
The question takes him off guard. "I dunno, it was crowded in Fallon's apartment and I kept bumping into people and they were like 'If you're gonna throw up, do it outside,' and I kinda got hustled out the door. I bumped into the railing which was lucky, cos I might have fallen down the stairs otherwise." He taps his fingers on his chin and sighs. "And then I just fell down into the bush anyway when I got to the bottom of the stairs. So much for my eidetic memory... Though I guess when I have this much alcohol and thc in me my prioperception's all out of whack anyway." He smiles, unbothered.
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He takes a moment to think about seniors named Fallon. "Ah, I remember," he says, vaguely recalling him. Northmont was a small college - he'd never had classes with him, but he knew people who did. "Yeah," he says, faintly. "Yeah, I know what that's like."
Any embarrassment gives way to irritation. "What, and nobody came out to check on you after? What a bunch of assholes," he grouses. He'd still have come in and picked Lucas up, college boys knowing his name and face or not, but it would have been nice not to be peeling him out of a bush. "You're lucky you didn't hit your head."
man there are surprising amounts of fuck up sons of congressmen.
He purses his lips, feeling kind of irritated. "It's never really... happened to me like this before. It fucking sucks." The irony of telling this to the person he's pining over is not quite reaching him. He's sort of suspended in a world of half-light... It might be okay for him to tell Steven this in his mind because Steven doesn't have feelings for him and he has to let the poison out of the wound. Or maybe some part of him is hoping that letting it all out will trigger a wave of emotion in return. Either way, it's misled.
Lucas frowns. "I dunno. I mean, I didn't hear anyone. They've got... They've got stuff on their minds! They're drunker than me. And higher... maybe..." He pouts, stubbornly, childishly. He doesn't want to admit to himself or anyone else that maybe the guys who he hung out with and bummed weed and blowjobs off of weren't actually stand-up guys at all.
He'd already admitted to himself that they weren't really his friends. None of them even really knew who's son he was, or else he'd have had to put up with them sneaking pictures to send to hack job blogs. He sighs. "I can take care of myself. I got you, didn't I?" He pulls down a book labeled the French Revolution and starts invisibly reading it.
is that really so surprising
He doesn't really want to talk about Lucas' crush on him, not with him this drunk. He doesn't really want to talk about it at all, but especially while Lucas is so loose-lipped and unashamed. He lets it pass without comment.
"If that were true they wouldn't have shoved you out the front door," he says, getting a little scathing. They should have - at least kept him inside. He sighs. "Yeah, you got real lucky that I hadn't fallen asleep - and that I was still in town. That's not exactly what I'd call taking care of yourself."
He reaches over silently to muss Lucas' hair.
not at all.
Steven's silence speaks volumes, though he's too wasted to consider it. He sighs, settling into the seat. Then Steven gets a little harsh. He winces and takes a defensive tack. "I just... they were there for me, I really needed something to do and they gave it to me. I needed somewhere I felt like I could do what I wanted and I got it..." He needed people who were cool with him being who he was, and they were.
"If you weren't there, I'd have figured something out, man. If I needed to, I'd have gone back upstairs." He pouts, hiding his face in his invisible book, the hair ruffle feeling like it goes right through the book. He sighs, totally won over by the contact. He's pretty screwed.