day two: 2034/50 000
Spencer has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying "Ryan?" really loudly. He can't decide whether he's relieved that Ryan is here too, because hey, Ryan, or worried, because Brendon definitely seems to think Spencer is someone completely different than the person that he actually is, and he has a horrible feeling that Ryan probably will too.
And, now he's thinking about it, if Ryan's awake but he couldn't hear him then that must mean that whatever place he is, they're not linked like that. Which is a bad sign, because he likes being able to talk to Ryan. (Well, it's not as if he couldn't talk to Ryan either way, but he likes Ryan being able to talk back. It's nice.)
Brendon must mistake his expression for one of deep thought, or whatever, because he laughs a little. "Yeah, I know, it's a really tough question. and I mean -- maybe Superman would be a fan of Honey Nut Cheerios? They're kind of wholesome, and Superman is
definitely
a wholesome kind of dude. Obviously regular Cheerios with bananas would be more wholesome, but hey, Superman's allowed a little bit of a twist, he's fucking Superman, right?" "-- right," Spencer says, when he realizes Brendon's looking at him expectantly because he expects an answer. "Actually I feel kind of sick, so I think I'm going to go lay back down, okay?"
"Yeah, good idea," Brendon says, making a face. "I'll try to be quiet out here, I promise."
"Thanks," Spencer says, and turns around, heading back into the weird room of beds. Bedroom. Not bedroom, that has connotations of a place that has stuff in it besides four sketchy beds and a light fixture.
Oh, wait, maybe they're supposed to be bunks. Bunkroom, then.
He considers going back to sleep once he gets into his bunk. Maybe he'll wake up back at headquarters and everything will be fixed and he can chalk this up to, uh. Strange drug aftereffects, or something. Never mind that he doesn't take drugs.
But that probably wouldn't work out, because he stubbed his toe trying to get into his bunk and it hurt like a motherfucker, so he's definitely
here
, whether or not he knows where
here
is. So mostly he just stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out what could have happened to him.
After a while he starts writing a handheld post in his head, for all the good it will do.
Dear headquarters, I'm stranded on a moving house and I have no idea where I am. And Brendon Urie is here and has a strange fixation with superheroes and breakfast cereal.
Actually that's probably true at home, for all he knows about the man.
And I think Jon is here, too, he adds, remembering that Brendon had mentioned him. But hell, if an agent is here, why can't a tech be too? It makes just about as much sense as anything else. He doesn't mention Ryan, though, even in his head, because he's trying really hard not to think about it. To be completely honest he almost doesn't want to meet this Ryan; what if they haven't known each other since they were six, what if they're not best friends, what if they're barely friends at all, what if what if what if. He doesn't want to know. He likes their relationship, doesn't want to know about how it's different other places.
He doesn't really think there should be other places, but that's really beside the point at this particular moment in time.
Please send help,
he continues, I would really appreciate it. I'm worried this moving house is going to make me sick after a while.
He must end up dozing off after a while, though, because the next thing he knows he's jerked awake by movement in his bunk. It's dark, so he doesn't know who it is until they're curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder and arm thrown across his waist. His arm automatically comes up around the pair of shoulders, and this must be Ryan, it can't be anyone else.
Well it could be someone else, obviously, but they fall asleep every other night like this. If it's someone else he might actually cry. Which is sad but true.
"-- oh, shit, I woke you up," Ryan says. Out loud. Spencer is suddenly very glad that he's laying down, because his legs probably would have given out if he had been standing up.
"I was trying to be quiet," Ryan finishes, making a face into Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer uses all the energy he has trying not to, uh. Hyperventilate. Or something.
Because, sure, he's been talking to Ryan since they were five and six or so, but he hasn't heard Ryan's voice outside of very strange dreams he occasionally has since they were nine and ten, and.
Jesus. He hasn't heard Ryan's voice in thirteen years. But this is what he sounds like, apparently. It's. He really just doesn't even know.
"Don't worry about it," he says, finally, surprised his voice is so even, and squeezes Ryan a little. "What's up?"
"Brendon said you were feeling lousy, I was worried I might have given you what I had last week."
Spencer smiles in the dark despite himself. "Then why did you come in here?"
"I already had it," Ryan says, and some things really don't change, because Spencer can actually hear him roll his eyes. "So obviously I'm not going to get it again. And anyway I was worried." "Oh, well. I guess that's allowed, then," Spencer says, and Ryan burrows a little closer. Spencer puts his other hand on Ryan's elbow.
If he closes his eyes and ignores how small the bunk is, he can pretend he's home. So he concentrates on not freaking out, listens to Ryan's breathing and replays everything he's just said in his mind a thousand times, wonders what the hell happened where ever he is that Ryan is still talking at, well, probably twenty-three, just like at home. Brendon didn't express any sudden shock at Spencer's age in the kitchen, and Ryan didn't say anything either, so that's something.
Unless this is some weird-ass
Quantum Leap
thing, or something, but to his knowledge Sam Beckett never leaped into someone with the same name as his, and he never encountered any of the people he knew in his other life except for Al. And nobody else could see Al, anyway -- at least nobody who really mattered -- so he probably didn't count.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Mount And Blade Eky Rapdidshare
day one: 980/50 000
This is basically going to be posted as I write it, regardless of the word count or whatever, so. As a warning.
Anyway!
When Spencer wakes up, it's quiet in his head -- there's a song Ryan was humming before he fell asleep last night playing on endless repeat, and he really should say something about the fact that even though Ryan doesn't get songs stuck in his head, Spencer does. Often. And it's kind of cruel. Other than that, though, it's perfectly silent, which means that Ryan must still be asleep (on the couch, probably, since Spencer can't hear his breathing). Strange, since Spencer heard him fall asleep last night, but they're on break right now, so mostly Spencer just hopes that Ryan gets enough sleep and eats, and leaves the rest up to whoever's governing the universe. He wakes up a little more, then, and realizes two things in quick succession. One: their lovely queen-size bed has turned into something slightly smaller than a twin. When he opens his eyes, he amends that to "slightly smaller than a twin and also in a dark box" because he barely has to stretch his arm out to touch the ceiling, and there is a wall right next to his left shoulder. It looks like there's a curtain or something on his other side, though, so. Very strange box.
Two: the bed is moving.
He turns the sentence over in his head a few times before it really sinks in, but when it does he comes very close to sitting straight up, and only manages to remember an inch or so before his head would have smacked ceiling. Never a good idea. And it certainly wouldn't have made his morning any better.
When he's calmed down a little, he starts groping around in the sheets in the hopes that his handheld will magically somehow have transported itself to the bed from the coffee table he'd left it on last night. Somewhat unsurprisingly, it doesn't work, but he makes a face anyway.
Ryan? he tries, just in case he's awake and just zoned out, or something.
And then he realizes that if the bed has magically transformed itself, he's probably not in their rooms anymore, which means that Ryan won't be responding anytime soon. It also means that he's not ever going to find his handheld around here, which
fuck
if there was ever proof that they really needed something implanted in their brains just in case any of them were separated from their handhelds, this would certainly be it. (Ryan would probably tell him, after hearing that, that he shouldn't have left his handheld on the fucking coffee table, dumbass, how would he know about any incoming messages if it was beeping in the living room, huh? He wouldn't, that's how. Spencer rolls his eyes, and then realizes Ryan's talking in his head and it's not even
Ryan
, and rolls his eyes again. This is ridiculous.)
He really needs to get out of this bed, though. It's starting to make him uncomfortable. And the motion is starting to fuck with him, too, although standing up might make that worse. He'd be able to hold onto something if he stood up, though, which is definitely a point in its favor. It
is
a curtain on his right side, it turns out, and when he grabs it he can feel it move, and a little sliver of light shines into the box of darkness, so he keeps on pulling. It looks like there's another curtain right across from him, and when he cranes his head a little he can see another under that one, so there's probably one under his as well. That would explain the ceiling, anyway. Of course, since one of his questions has been answered, about twelve spring up in its place. He would probably settle for knowing where he is, though. And why the -- okay, it's not just his bed. Why the bunch of beds are moving. Although it looks like there's a door or something at the end, so maybe he's in a giant moving house.
Yes. That's obviously the answer. He's in a giant moving house , and he's also incredibly thankful that Ryan didn't hear that, because he would
never
hear the end of it.
Standing is not as much of a challenge as he thought it would be after he gives himself a minute or so to get used to it. There's actually a door on either end of the, uh. Bed tunnel. Or whatever it is. But there's noise coming from one of them and silence from the other, so he figures he might as well go to where the noise is. Maybe it'll help explain whatever is going on.
"Hey, you're awake," says Brendon Urie, dressed in plaid pajama pants and what Spencer thinks was a Superman t-shirt at one point in its life and eating a bowl of cereal, and Spencer blinks. "Um. Yeah," he says, noncommittally, and nods a little for effect. "Okay, so, I have an important question for you," Brendon Urie says, and gestures expansively with his spoon. "If Batman decided he was only going to eat one kind of cereal for the rest of his life, like, until he
died
, what cereal do you think he'd pick?"
"Um," Spencer says again. He thinks he's met this guy in person maybe
twice
, talked to him on the handheld network maybe twenty times, and yet here he is talking like he knows Spencer well, like they're friends. Like they belong on this -- whatever it is. Demented RV, he thinks, maybe, as he looks around and notices cabinets and a microwave. And windows.
"Jon said Frosted Flakes, and I guess that's a good pick because who doesn't like Frosted Flakes, right? But Ryan said he thinks Batman would pick Honey Nut Cheerios, and I have nothing against the Bee, but those are just not badass enough for Batman, okay?"
Spencer has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying "Ryan?" really loudly.
This is basically going to be posted as I write it, regardless of the word count or whatever, so. As a warning.
Anyway!
When Spencer wakes up, it's quiet in his head -- there's a song Ryan was humming before he fell asleep last night playing on endless repeat, and he really should say something about the fact that even though Ryan doesn't get songs stuck in his head, Spencer does. Often. And it's kind of cruel. Other than that, though, it's perfectly silent, which means that Ryan must still be asleep (on the couch, probably, since Spencer can't hear his breathing). Strange, since Spencer heard him fall asleep last night, but they're on break right now, so mostly Spencer just hopes that Ryan gets enough sleep and eats, and leaves the rest up to whoever's governing the universe. He wakes up a little more, then, and realizes two things in quick succession. One: their lovely queen-size bed has turned into something slightly smaller than a twin. When he opens his eyes, he amends that to "slightly smaller than a twin and also in a dark box" because he barely has to stretch his arm out to touch the ceiling, and there is a wall right next to his left shoulder. It looks like there's a curtain or something on his other side, though, so. Very strange box.
Two: the bed is moving.
He turns the sentence over in his head a few times before it really sinks in, but when it does he comes very close to sitting straight up, and only manages to remember an inch or so before his head would have smacked ceiling. Never a good idea. And it certainly wouldn't have made his morning any better.
When he's calmed down a little, he starts groping around in the sheets in the hopes that his handheld will magically somehow have transported itself to the bed from the coffee table he'd left it on last night. Somewhat unsurprisingly, it doesn't work, but he makes a face anyway.
Ryan? he tries, just in case he's awake and just zoned out, or something.
And then he realizes that if the bed has magically transformed itself, he's probably not in their rooms anymore, which means that Ryan won't be responding anytime soon. It also means that he's not ever going to find his handheld around here, which
fuck
if there was ever proof that they really needed something implanted in their brains just in case any of them were separated from their handhelds, this would certainly be it. (Ryan would probably tell him, after hearing that, that he shouldn't have left his handheld on the fucking coffee table, dumbass, how would he know about any incoming messages if it was beeping in the living room, huh? He wouldn't, that's how. Spencer rolls his eyes, and then realizes Ryan's talking in his head and it's not even
Ryan
, and rolls his eyes again. This is ridiculous.)
He really needs to get out of this bed, though. It's starting to make him uncomfortable. And the motion is starting to fuck with him, too, although standing up might make that worse. He'd be able to hold onto something if he stood up, though, which is definitely a point in its favor. It
is
a curtain on his right side, it turns out, and when he grabs it he can feel it move, and a little sliver of light shines into the box of darkness, so he keeps on pulling. It looks like there's another curtain right across from him, and when he cranes his head a little he can see another under that one, so there's probably one under his as well. That would explain the ceiling, anyway. Of course, since one of his questions has been answered, about twelve spring up in its place. He would probably settle for knowing where he is, though. And why the -- okay, it's not just his bed. Why the bunch of beds are moving. Although it looks like there's a door or something at the end, so maybe he's in a giant moving house.
Yes. That's obviously the answer. He's in a giant moving house , and he's also incredibly thankful that Ryan didn't hear that, because he would
never
hear the end of it.
Standing is not as much of a challenge as he thought it would be after he gives himself a minute or so to get used to it. There's actually a door on either end of the, uh. Bed tunnel. Or whatever it is. But there's noise coming from one of them and silence from the other, so he figures he might as well go to where the noise is. Maybe it'll help explain whatever is going on.
"Hey, you're awake," says Brendon Urie, dressed in plaid pajama pants and what Spencer thinks was a Superman t-shirt at one point in its life and eating a bowl of cereal, and Spencer blinks. "Um. Yeah," he says, noncommittally, and nods a little for effect. "Okay, so, I have an important question for you," Brendon Urie says, and gestures expansively with his spoon. "If Batman decided he was only going to eat one kind of cereal for the rest of his life, like, until he
died
, what cereal do you think he'd pick?"
"Um," Spencer says again. He thinks he's met this guy in person maybe
twice
, talked to him on the handheld network maybe twenty times, and yet here he is talking like he knows Spencer well, like they're friends. Like they belong on this -- whatever it is. Demented RV, he thinks, maybe, as he looks around and notices cabinets and a microwave. And windows.
"Jon said Frosted Flakes, and I guess that's a good pick because who doesn't like Frosted Flakes, right? But Ryan said he thinks Batman would pick Honey Nut Cheerios, and I have nothing against the Bee, but those are just not badass enough for Batman, okay?"
Spencer has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying "Ryan?" really loudly.
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