gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.

[killtime]

WHO: Residents of Maurtia Falls #4 & Co
WHERE: MF #4
WHEN: Post-CNC2020
WHAT: Self-defense, video games, etc.
WARNINGS: TBD

(Individual threads within!)

Comments

[measuringdicks]

[Tough crowd. Richie has one reaction to tough crowds, and it’s this:]

I am a lover, not a fighter. Just ask my friends’ moms back in Derry, they’ll tell you. [They would probably all call him that weird, bug-eyed kid with the voices, in all honesty. But anyway, pithy joke said, Richie stuffs his hands back into his pockets, listening attentively. Clumsy he kind of knew, already—puberty is a gift—but advertising his moves? Yeah, that’s new.]

Yeah, I’m pretty good at running. Gotta be, if you’re a Loser.

[There’s a weight to the word: Loser, he says, like it’s important, like he’s proud. Welcome to the Losers’ Club.]

If I had a baseball bat with me, would that improve my chances? Like—[and he mimes taking a swing with one.] I knocked a clown flat on its ass with one, the one time. [It, not his or her or their. It, like he’s talking about something not human.] That means I’m good at that, right?

[killtime]

[ He is a weird, bug-eyed kid that does voices — but she's not judging. He can say whatever the hell he wants really, not like it's going to hurt her feelings. At a certain point in her long ass life, she just stopped caring enough for that. But she can tell he's paying attention — and that's the important bit. ]

A Loser, huh. [ She picked up on the emphasis, even if she doesn't know the meaning of it. ] Well. Long as you don't end up a bloody smear of Loser on the pavement, I guess.

[ Her dwindling cigarette finally gets flicked away. She gives him a little look as she smothers the stub in the dirt underneath her boot. ]

Do I even want to know why you were assaulting a clown? [ Not that she's particularly fond of clowns, but. ] Being armed usually helps. As long as you know what you're doing. If you don't, it's just something for the other fucker to take from you and beat your ass with.

[measuringdicks]

'S'why I'm here.

[He stuffs his hands in his pockets, starts to seemingly, aimlessly pace. With anyone else, Richie would be loathe to say much more about it, but Andy's six thousand years old, right? And she's been here a very long time. So if there's any adult who might stand a chance of at least not thinking he's cracked, it's her.

Also, he didn't bring his bat, so he's looking for some rocks to throw. Not a whole lot of decently-sized rocks for a rock war here, so he has to settle for pebbles to collect while he talks.]

It killed and ate kids back home in Derry. Ended up eating the wrong kid, so we went after it. [He pauses.] It didn't look like a clown to everyone, it changed to look like whatever you were scared of, but I think it liked being a clown best. That's what it looked like when it was trying to scare all of us, not just one.

We killed it fucking dead. At least I'm pretty sure we did. I knocked it flat with a bat, my friend shot it in the head, it fell down a well and everything. [That's what he remembers, anyway, but his memory of that fight's going a little fuzzy around the edges.]

But it was overconfident, y'know? Like, it didn't expect us to come in and fuck it right up—[And then he tosses a pebble towards Andy.]

[killtime]

[ Honestly?

It's not even the weirdest shit she's heard since she got here. She's met robots and aliens. Gods. Vampires. Clones. The works. Nowadays, a murderous kid-eating fear-clown doesn't actually seem all that absurd. Takes her a moment to process the idea, her eyebrows pinched together as she tries to picture it — but after a moment, she seems to just accept his story as the truth, humming out a little noise of acknowledgment.

Tough kids, taking on a thing like that.

She opens her mouth, maybe to say something along those lines — but the words drop dead in her mouth as something hard bounces off her fucking forehead. The pebble falls to the ground in front of her, right between her boots. Her eyebrows pinch again. She gives Richie a look. ]

You could have at least used a bigger fucking rock. [ There's a tiny little red mark where the pebble hit her — or is there? Funny, but it seems to be gone already. She doesn't seem deterred either way, instead pointing out across the yard by the tree where there's a small branch that's broken off. ] Go pick that up. Show me your clown-killing technique.