driftfleet | Sweet dreams are made of these...

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Sweet dreams are made of these...

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm going to assume your brother was an asshole. Hopefully your long-lost sister wasn't.

[ he shrugs and turns the photo around in his hands to look at it. and maybe most kids this age would smile or look fondly on it, but Isaac just frowns. it deepens at the question. ]

Yeah, was in the military, went off, never came back, you know the deal. [ it bothers him, more than he's showing but the words fly out of his mouth like they're rote at this point. no, he doesn't have any coping problems, none at all. ] Mom left early on and then it... was, well me and Dad. [ he shrugs, setting the picture down, a gesture none too different from Dave's hand wave before. nothing to see here, keep moving. ] He's gone, too.

[ by now, he's said this so many times that it comes off flat, pretty blunt. it's easier not to talk about those things, right? ]

[It gets a flicker of something from Davesprite, but it's hard to tell what.]

Oh. Sorry.

[He says it in a way that comes off more matter-of-fact than anything else. Like it sucks, he knows it sucks, and sometimes people trying to be sympathetic makes it worse.

He does a minor circuit of the room, just looking and not touching, from the poster to the shovel to stepping over never-melting pile of ice.]

Why a French flag.

Before this place kidnapped me, I was going to France. Er, with a friend.

[ could Mr. Argent be considered a friend? or was he more family at this point? probably both. the room takes on a distinct chill, like the freezer might have kicked on. he's not given himself time to think about Allison here, and whoops, there he is. thinking about her death, her dying. ]

But I hear France is boring anyway. Why, you want it? [ he even picks it up and half-heartedly throws it at Dave. look, Bird Dave, a gift. ]

[Davesprite is a Texas kid, so he notices the temperature dip quicker than most. Shit. Did he fuck up? Is there something chilly about France? How does he make the temperature undrop—

Oh.

He catches the flag, a little surprised, and holds it at arms length.]

Not really my colors. They clash pretty bad with orange. [Never mind his alt self's taste in red and the fact he isn't orange anymore.]

I don't know, the weird clash of colors might be good for you. Show off your weird personality, you know.

[ he shrugs, kicking things about in his room as he wanders it. amazing what the mind will do, isn't it? the temperature stays chilly. sorry, bird boy, apparently angst means cold. ]

Where are you even from anyway? Nowhere normal. You know, wings and all.

[The greatest of tragedies: cold weather.

He drops his arms, though he's not really sure what he should do with the flag. He vaguely remembers something about dropping flags on the ground being disrespectful, but like he cares about that. Earth's a dead dustball, anyway.]

I dunno, Houston wasn't anything special. It's not like I always had wings; I used to be... [He trails off, rethinking his phrasing.] ...I looked like a regular kid.

[Since even if he doesn't look particularly birdy at this point in time, he's never exactly been normal.]

So you weren't always an annoying bird man?

[ there's not a lot of fire behind it, and Isaac rolls his eyes a little bit. ] It's not like I was always a werewolf either, but here we are. On a space ship. As a bird man and wolf man. We're really ticking off all of the "this must be a bad movie" boxes.

[ he shrugs a little and leans back against the wall, stuffing hands into his pockets. ] But yeah. Sounds like we've had a blast. Maybe that's why they kidnapped us. Huston sounds pretty boring, though.

[He shrugs back and moves to drop the flag on the freezer.]

It was alright. Warmer than here, which instantly puts it head and shoulders above your brainbox. Seriously, dude, you got a thermostat in here, because it could use a little tune up.

[ sorry, Davesprite, if you wanted it to be warmer, you shouldn't have drawn his attention to the freezer. because the moment that the flag touches the freezer (and likely Davesprite's hand), he will get a glimpse of Isaac, being chained into a box freezer, the metal walls scratched and stained, very much like the gashes all around the room they're currently standing it.

there might even be laughter, muffled somewhere outside of the box itself before Davesprite is thrown back into reality. or whatever fucked dream world this is. ]

Yeah, right, I'll work on that.

[ whoops, every muscle in his body is tense, and he eyes Davesprite nervously. ] Maybe you should have just kept the flag. France is weird. I was supposed to go there. I got an A in French at least.

Fuck. Uh.

[He shoots a look at Isaac, one hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, and takes two steps away from the freezer—and, more subtly, Isaac. Like he isn't sure how much he fucked up and doesn't want to stand too close to find out.]

Cool. I never took French. Never took any language if you want to be real, but I know goddamn Welsh for some reason. Which is useless as fuck, to be perfectly honest; it's not like there's a Welshland [WALES, DAVESPRITE] to visit or nothing. Just endless spaceland, like a fucked up Disney trip that's never gonna end. Like whoops, sorry you wanted to check that planet out. Get your ass back in the car, junior, we're not hitting a pitstop for another bathroom break until we've passed three planets.

[He grimaces a little. He's not totally sure what he just saw in Isaac's head, but it's enough to rattle him and set all his preteen paranoia on high alert. Combined with the laughter, it's like Lil Cal is ready to jump out of a corner at him.]

Shit. Sorry. My bad.

[ yeah, well, not the first time someone's been afraid of him. he's almost killed a good handful of people before (and most of them he wanted to). it isn't that which bothers isaac, but even he can hear the echoed laughter, it's not just part of the memory, but it does fade eventually. doesn't change the fact that he is digging his nails into his palms. pain makes you human, after all, is what Derek had told him, after all. ]

Welsh is pretty useless, but it's Wales, I think. Not Welshland. But what kind of name is Wales, anyway.

[ and he shrugs, letting Davesprite ramble, because now he's just too keenly aware of the freezer, the chain near it, the shattered glass on the floor. ] Not like you meant to. Not like I meant to. Just -- it's nothing. [ but it is very much something. bute it's not exactly easy to explain away, and maybe it's better they just talk about weird space instead. ]

Disney in space, huh? Sounds like a pretty fucked family road trip.

[It's less fear and more guilt. But Davesprite doesn't want to cause a fight where neither of them can abscond; he's way more afraid of the idea of that than of Isaac, if he's honest. He's sick to death of fighting.]

Sure it's nothing. Everyone always says it's nothing. [His inflection is a little weird, almost bitter before it falls short into a dead kind of matter-of-factness. He pockets his hands, looking down at the glass on the floor.]

But whatever, right. No wonder they use this shit as reality TV bait. Road trips are like their own fucking movie genre.

[ well, luckily for Davesprite, there's nothing to fight over. the strange inflection, that weird sort of almost-bitterness does not go unnoticed. he raises his head to look at the other guy. ]

We didn't take family road trips because my dad thought it would be a fun game to lock me in a freezer when he didn't like what I was doing, so. [ he shrugs, frowning at the thought of him. there's no fear there -- his father's dead, after all, but his chest tightens still at the very feeling of closeness the memory has left with him. he sucks in a breath, the air rattling in his chest. ]

Got a C in Chem, freezer. Forgot to unload the dishwasher, freezer. Last time I saw him he said I had to do all of the dishes, then smashed them all on the floor., so. It's not nothing, but it's not really worth talking about either. It's great. [ he shrugs again, shoulders tight. ]

Edited (1 2p3ll gud) 2015-12-29 07:43 (UTC)

[The sunglasses might make it hard to tell, but there's surprise in the way Davesprite tilts his head at Isaac and holds it there for a couple seconds, before his expression hardens over and he looks away.]

Yeah, well. Some assholes shouldn't be allowed to raise kids, I guess. Which doesn't change anything. And I guess talking about it doesn't really, either. But [he shrugs a little] it still sucks.

[He looks around the room again, not totally sure what to do with himself. He's never been that great at staying still for too long.] I dunno, I've never been on a family road trip, either. Didn't know they were a thing until I saw Chevy Chase drag his family cross-country on TV.

Yeah, well, some assholes are allowed to raise kids. A few of them, even. He wasn't always like that, but I don't know where it began. But whatever, I know a lot about freezers now.

[ there is serious sarcasm dripping from his voice because he can't not talk about it. he loves his dad in a way, and in a way he hates him immensely. there's much to be said for his father, for the mistakes he made, but who else did isaac have otherwise when his mother and brother both left? ]

Pretty sure homeward bound was as close as I got to a road trip. Fucking Sassy complaining the whole way.

[It's probably shitty that Davesprite feels a flicker of envy. Like maybe he got the better deal, living with a piss-poor guardian who sucked the whole time instead of some dude who 180'd because...who knows the because. It's not like Davesprite knows what he missed outside of hypotheticals, listening to friends talk about their families or whatever.

...Ugh, it sounds so fucking petty and he's only thinking about it. It's not like his bro locked him in a fucking freezer.]

After getting stuck on a space trip for a while, I guess I can relate. [He certainly complains enough.]

Sorry. I'd leave if I could, dude, but I haven't exactly mastered the dreamwalking BS despite previous practice. Though your brainscape could use more furniture; I don't even want to know what would have happened if I decided to sit on the thing.

[ Isaac leans back against one wall, and sinks down to sit on the floor again, legs splayed out in front of him. he feels tired, in a weird way, which isn't supposed to happen in weird dreams, but well, they don't exactly seem to be leaving. ]

Yeah, I'm not sure I'm made for the spaceship life. [ but he's not sure he's ready for life back home, either. for heading off to France because Allison's dead, the pack is falling apart, and he doesn't know how to fix it. he can't just magically make her come back, can't make his friends stop being so angry and worried all of the time. ]

You'd have probably flash freezed your ass to it. [ it's said with such a deadpan, a nonchalant shrug. but hey, a chair appears beside Davesprite at least. it even has one of those tie-on butt cushions. ] Just don't tell anyone. I didn't know it would do that when someone came to mess around in here.

[The chair gets a blink.]

Shit, you can do furniture but not food? You got ripped off, man.

[But he sits, half aware that this is really fucking weird, what with him in a chair and Isaac on the floor. Part of him feels like he should sit on the floor too, actually, but it's wolf dude's head. If he wants to sit on the floor and only offer chairs to guests, Davesprite's not gonna argue.]

But yeah, I get you. Guess Atroma's never heard that some shit ought to stay buried. [He resists the temptation to nudge the nearest item with his foot, which I don't feel like picking right at this moment. Not because he's curious about the memory, but because he's still feeling antsy.] Can you tell what's gonna happen with any of your memory trinkets.

We're in a broken freezer. do you really want me to try and make food? I mean I can think hard about it, but I'm afraid of what we'll get.

[ to be honest, he didn't even know that he could make anything appear. he didn't exactly plan on giving Davesprite a chair, but when one complains, one receives. ]

Not really, but I can take a guess. I mean since touching the freezer brought back the worst movie known to man. I mean, there's a lacrosse stick. If you like sports. Or you can study for a stupid English exam. I'm bad at English.

[ let's not even talk about the ice, the broken glass --- basically all the happy things in the room. no big deal. ]

[He appreciates the thoughtfulness, bro.]

Come on, man. Who knows how long we're gonna be stuck in here; I don't see any exits around.

[As for the second part, he just makes an indistinct, thoughtful sound.]

Dunno, sounds better than knowing what memory's what and then not being able to do jack shit about what people touch. I'd bomb your English exam, though. And your sports game. My experience as a victim of the educational system was pretty brief.

[ he gives Davesprite a rather distinct look but shrugs. ]

Yeah, I can try, whatever. What do you want? [ he looks around the room, and after a few moments, the take-out box rattles on the ground, like it's suddenly weighted down. there might even be the smell of mexican food. ] You gonna try that first? I don't trust this place.

[ he reaches for the box -- it's warm, at least -- and offers it out to Davesprite. ] A victim of the educational system? You're pretty dramatic, huh? [ he smirks, but there's something tired about it. ] Lacrosse isn't just any sports game, okay.

It's your head, dude.

[But Davesprite takes the box, head tilting as he cracks open the lid.]

But if it's only what I'm saying that is dramatic, I can rest easy making gratuitous hyperbole.

[His eyes flick up to Isaac, which is really only obvious from the way his head moves.] And I guess that's true. It's a French sports game, am I right.

Whatever, it smells good and it's warm so.

[ he shrugs. ] Just because it's my head doesn't make it trustworthy either. Sorry, did you miss the whole psycho freezer part?

[ Isaac looks up at Davesprite slowly, a mixture of some offense and concern in his expression. seriously, who doesn't know lacrosse? ] Yeah, I guess it might have started that way but it's not French. It's like field hockey but the sticks have nets.

[He wavers a little, before he glances away and back.]

Doesn't mean you're psycho. [He shrugs in return.]

But ok, so it's French field hockey. [Davesprite, stop.] Do you wear rollerblades, too. [(－‸ლ)]

Rollerblades?

[ there's no hiding the 'what a dumbass' sort of look his expression carries, all raised eyebrows and incredulously gaping mouth. ]

It's played in a field. Wheels and grass don't exactly go together. What planet are you from?

tl;dr

i think u mean perfectly acceptable tag length

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Re: https://emos.plurk.com/110412c5da9f117605a34a6849b5efcc_w48_h48.gif

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bye

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