maskormenacelogs | I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole

WHO: REGGIE MANTLE and YOU!
WHERE: Heropa, Nonah, Maurtia Falls... or anywhere!
WHEN: May 25th - 31st.
WHAT: After a year and a half, Reggie finally made his first trip home... and back again. Needless to say, a lot has changed.
WARNINGS: References to canon-typical death/violence/suicide ideation/zombies, possible mentions of underage drug use, drinking, self-harm, and/or sexual implications. Spoilers for Afterlife With Archie #9.

INTRODUCTION

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[ He has to be sedated when he first arrives; Reggie is manic and hysterical, yelling nonsense -- calling out for someone named Sabrina, asking where she went, if she'd heard him, that he'll do it -- grasping at the air and pulling his hair out, his mind refusing yet to make any of the connections required to remind him where he was. While they don't know what's wrong with him, why he's acting so out of his mind, in the Porter lab they're always prepared for almost anything. Reggie responds to the sedation, calming and collapsing to the floor, and not twenty minutes later he remembers where he is -- where he'd been -- as the dull reality of what must have happened hits him like a cold splash of water along with a year and half of displaced memories.

When he's finally "well" enough again he's given his papers and sent on his way, though Reggie doesn't know where to go. ]

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▸ HEROPA | NONAH | MAURTIA FALLS;
& feel free to PM or plurk me for a custom starter,
or wildcard it and tag in with your own prompt!

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[ A few more days into his return, Reggie makes a decision -- he makes it so easily, in fact, that once it occurs to him he can't help wonder why he never thought of it before. Maybe because Reggie didn't have something from home before -- a mission, a goal, a memory -- to commemorate permanently on his skin, because he never wanted to preserve that connection before. But things are different now, and a tattoo seems like the perfect way not to lose his focus while he's here, no matter how long that ends up being; better yet, it'll vanish when he ever does go back, when he no longer needs it. It's the sort of "eureka!" moment where there's a pinball machine in his brain setting off lights and bells in sequence, yet also the sort Reggie can just sense intuitively that he should keep to himself. Not out of shame, either; he just knows that no one else could ever "get" it, so he'd rather not have to deal with the hassle of answering questions or having his character (and/or sanity) called into even further question.

Like he really needs more judgement.

Therefore, after Friday he might be found walking funny as the new ink, where his hip meets his thigh, starts to dry -- that is to say, heal. He wears jeans of the non-skinny variety, favors one side, and if he has to sit he's very careful about it -- which is how it will be for the next few weeks -- but since he's spent so little time in Maurtia Falls in all his time here he figures he might as well take in the sights as long as he's up here. He was just in Pennsylvania not long ago, and it's a little jarring how different the two experiences are. He stops now and then, looking at the flashing neon signs over the bars and pool dens, the shiftily murmured, drowned-out-by-the-canal conversations on corners or stairwells, the jewelry stores displaying what he can only assume is stolen or fake merchandise, and smirks vaguely to himself. Reggie can't help but be somewhat charmed by all the earnest dishonesty. To himself: ]

glad

[ That'll show all the would-be muggers! Reggie shifts his hips again, rubbing his butt idly in lieu of being able to scratch his tattoo; the pressure travels, if applied right. ]

fun

[ He's still talking to himself so it's mostly a rhetorical question, though spoken loudly enough it may sound like he's looking for more recommendations. ]

I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole

MAURTIA FALLS ▸ ALWAYS INK RESPONSIBLY