maskormenacelogs | girl, you're such a backstabber

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girl, you're such a backstabber

WHO: Edgar Nolastname & YOU
WHERE: Heropa, FL
WHEN: October 7th, throughout the day.
WHAT: Meet Edgar, your newest war-torn dystopian orphan!
WARNINGS: Blood (dried), J-walking.

a. FORK IN THE ROAD.

[Edgar looks like shit.]

[This cannot be emphasized enough. Tired, pale, and covered in grime at the best of times, Edgar's now added a rainbow of dried blood to his repertoire. Most of it is on the front of him, as though he was recently fighting a bleeding enemy, but there's a sticky puddle formed around his back, and a hole torn the fabric of his jacket, right in the center of the stain.]

[Edgar doesn't seem bothered by any of that, though. Edgar is standing completely still, a look of total, awe-struck wonderment on his face. He's staring straight up at the clear, blue sky, and the sun shining through the clouds, as though it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.]

[He's also standing right in the middle of the road. It's not a very busy road, so he hasn't gotten hit by a car yet, but... well, yet.]

b. READING RAINBOW.

[Do you have a house in Heropa?]

[If you've got an outdoor mailbox, someone is going through it. Someone named Edgar. Looking down the street, he's done this to the last few mailboxes down the way. He's pulling the mail out, opening it, and reading it before tossing it aside on the front lawn and moving over to the next.]

[Edgar's face is scrunched up in quiet concentration as he goes over each word, sounding them out slowly. He reads each aloud, stumbling over the bigger words. Hope you weren't getting any private correspondence!]

c. WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR A KLONDIKE BAR?
(As this would clearly only happen once, this prompt is only open to the first person who replies to it. First come first serve!)

[Edgar is having a staring contest with the barrel of someone else's gun.]

[Well, let's start at the beginning. Do you know how great Hostess Snacks are? And do you know how many of them are in the average convenience store?]

[Edgar had wandered into a gas station Kwik-E-Mart and discovered the essential goodness of zebra cakes, though he's yet to have the rules of commerce revealed to him. When he started opening boxes of food at the back of the store, he got in trouble with the man running the front counter. When he laughed it off, he only got further in trouble. Words got heated when he tried to walk out of the store with hands full of food. Eventually, the shopkeeper threatened to call the cops, and Edgar threatened bodily harm. Hoping to defend himself, the shopkeeper pulled out the gun underneath the counter.]

[And then you walked in the door.]

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Not yet.

[ Not thinking about things too hard was April's bread and butter for survival, so the bloody hole is noted...and pretty much just moved past. There would be time when he didn't smell like death on a summer day in bacteria beach to think about it.

Now? Now she just turns the shower head on full blast and steps back. It's set for medium warm temperature, but enjoy those moments it takes to actually warm up to that.]

[As predicted, Edgar flips his shit. That... may be an understatement. Edgar howls and reacts on pure instinct-- cold is death-- and flings his jacket off in one swift, panicked movement. It flies through the air, wet, bloody and disgusting, heading straight for April.]

[Edgar then dives out of the shower, smearing grime and soot everywhere along with him. That's where he stays, panting and hugging the tiled floor.]

[She is now covered in dirty jacket. Awesome. But rather than Dealing with that, or the boy in the floor, she picks option 3. She drops the jacket onto the ground and, now that the water is warmer, steps into the shower herself to rinse off the grim from her shirt. And, you know. Just get soaking in the process.

...maybe she went a little too far with this one.]

Look- just. It's cool. Okay?

[Well, that was embarrassing.]

[It was the shock, really. Edgar's been cold, far colder, than that before, but he wasn't expecting it and made a mess of things. Only in being in such a clean place does he realize how dirty he makes everything.]

[Luckily, Edgar doesn't really have time for shame or embarrassment. Well, not too much of it, anyway, not right now. Maybe later. He folds the emotion up and sticks it in his metaphorical pocket, to be examined at a later date. For now, he's got to make sure he doesn't let this woman show him up. He stands, still faintly damp, and manages to only slip once on his walk back to the shower. Smiling awkwardly,] Ah, sorry about that. Weren't expecting it. Let's see here... [He reaches out, and the water's warmer, much warmer. His smile is more assured, and he wanders more fully into the shower's spray.]

[Now that they're both standing fully clothed in a shower, it seems the time to ask.] Who're you, then? You live here?

[ Well, she's here. No need to go running off. Not when there's a part two to this process. She holds out her hand to him, ready to shake as if this is normal instead of two 'adults' standing soaking wet under a shower head while fully dressed. ]

April.

[As far as Edgar's aware, this behavior is completely normal in whatever strange, Trainless world from which she hails. He's trying to keep an open mind.]

[They shake hands.] Oh, yeah. You're the one with all the- [He tries to remember the word.] The raccoons. Grey told me. Uh- Edgar. [He points to himself, still a little unsure how, precisely, normal introductions work.]

Oh. So train nightmare.

[ It's almost a question, but not quite. He could still just be some random guy Grey brought home, but that wasn't usually his style. So...

Well. Whatever the case, April's shirt is more or less clean now, so she steps out of the shower to drip on the floor. Then turns to grab a towel so she's not actually facing him. The whole 'privacy' thing more for his sake than hers, what with the cold water prank and not getting stabbed for it.]

You need to strip now.

Now, 'nightmare' might be going a bit soft on- [What.] What?

[Who knew his voice could get that high?]

Clothing. Toss it over to the corner or something. I'll take it. Somewhere.

[ To a fire, was her first thought. But whatever. Probably just to the raccoons for them to clean. ]

And there will magically be new ones. Because it's your first week.

[Can this woman do anything slowly? Edgar understands the concept of bathing, honestly, but he's not sure why it has to happen like this. As much as he appreciates the offer... well, he appreciates the offer. What more is there?] Outta the room! Out!

[He refuses to risk scandalizing this woman. Look, he can be a gentleman.]

[ Scandal? Please. But whatever, less work for her the better. And the raccoons may have gotten the stain out of the couch by now...or at least ordered a new couch. But she grins over her should at him. ]

If you're out in less than an hour, we're gonna have problems.

[ Srsly, bro. Use every cleaning product you can find. Play with the water temp. For the communal good. ]

[He grins back at her, toothy and lopsided.] See you in two.

[Or until the hot water runs out. Whichever comes first. Once April leaves, Edgar takes his sweet time luxuriating in the shower, singing at the top of his lungs, and generally making a nuisance of himself. An hour and a half later, he's ready to sleep again. The bathroom also looks like a coal miner died a bloody death in it. Can't have it all.]

[He emerges wrapped in at least three towels like some kind of ancient shaman of Bath & Body Works. Edgar creaks open the door and sticks his head out (it's covered in a towel, like the rest of him), trying to decide what to do next.]

[ Lucky for him, more or less true to her word clothing has appeared like magic. Or at least like a raccoon has been left to stand vigil, holding one of Will's plaid shirts and some PJ pants for the man to wear once his cleansing was complete.

As for April, she's in the livingroom, living up to her video game destiny with a nice round of generic racing game. Just barely resisting the urge to go flush all the toilets in the house during his shower like a brat.]

[So Edgar appears, gloriously warm, covered in towels and wearing the clothes left out for him. This place is a house of dreams. He never wants to leave. It makes sense why Grey's stuck around for so long.]

[He lingers on the threshold to the living room, waiting for something. It may seem as though he's awkwardly trying to think of something to say, but in reality, he's savoring the cushy feeling of a carpeted floor under his toes.]

Oi, you need anything done? [He just talks to her while she's gaming; he doesn't care about fake cars in computer screens.]

[ Now he wants to do things. But April spares him a glance then gives a one shoulder shrug. ]

Why do you wanna do something?

Did me a good turn, didn't you? [Edgar has no problem with receiving charity, strictly speaking, but he doesn't like taking. Which is to say, he'd like to repay kindness in kind.]

[He'd also like an excuse to stay in the house and benefit from its soft warmth, but that's secondary to the point.]

Yeah. Just take it. Like I said, first week benefits.

[ After this she will demand and demand until he has the good sense to say no. There's no repercussions for not obeying April's insane demands, but she will exploit the weak and good hearted if they let her. ]

Unless you speak spanish.

[While Edgar is certainly good-hearted (or, well, he has his moments), he's not sure he's weak. Only time will tell how that works itself out.]

[Until then, Edgar flops down on the nearest free bit of sofa space (so soft!) and generally acts like the teenager he still is. The towel on his head flops over, covering one bright, inquisitive eye, and Edgar ignores it in favor of invading April's personal space.] Su casa es... something or other. What's this, then? [He pokes her game controller. There's simply too much stuff to stay on one subject for long; Edgar ends up horribly sidetracked.]

Sanity. Pick it up.

[ Grey had never taken to video games, but he would grudgingly play because he was good at taking orders and April good at forgetting she was taking advantage. So there was a possibility she might at least get some hilarious competition for a moment. ]

And you will refer to me in the formal usted if you try that again.

[ She's joking. She's deadpan and there's no sign of that fact. But...well. You got used to that or suffered in this house, really. ]

[Edgar, meanwhile, has very little concern for others' discomfort and annoyance, and assumes if she means it she'll repine on it later.] Honest with you, I only know to swear outside English.

[That, and, occasionally, how to count, and say hello. The joys of growing up in the multilingual nightmare train. Edgar takes the console and taps a few buttons, not really watching the screen. He's got his eye (the one still not covered by a towel) on April's hands.] There supposed to be a point of this, or d'you just like lost causes? [He grins, perfectly aware of where that puts him on today's hierarchy of needs.]

Oh my god, no. Everyone here sucks at video games. But you might learn them out of spite or something. That works.

[ Someone, please, just don't let her win this easily anymore. She does the button pressing, then nods to the screen. See the connection? ]

[Edgar is, for himself, eager to learn. He sees what she's doing and settles in to learn it, watching her hands, repeating the action, and observing the change on the screen.]

[A sly smile spreads on his face.] The buttons control the little man in the box, yeah?

Yeah. It's like being the most boring god.

[ Here, take the controller. Go forth and be terrible at the game for her entertainment. It's kind of tradition at this point. ]

Ha! I know what a telly is. Not that daft.

[Okay, his 'hilarious' joke falls a little flat when April completely fails to react. Edgar focuses on the video game.] So I'm to run you over, huh?

[ The game is srs bsns, okay. As is making people wonder how uncomfortable April can make a conversation. ]

Mm.

[ And the race begins, meaning she's not looking at him as she starts talking again. ]

So. You and Grey were, like. Friends or something.

girl, you're such a backstabber

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