TDM - JANUARY 2021

[robbies]

TEST DRIVE MEME - JANUARY 2021

Good to the last gasp.
CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma and other problematic material, body horror, dolls, violence

---

“Help me. Please, help me…”

A child’s voice, calling out for aid. There’s no rhyme or reason for when it comes to you. It’s so quiet, a whisper in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Were it not for the sharp, stabbing pain it pulls out of you, you could ignore it. You could even pretend it’s just your imagination.

It all happens so quickly and powerfully. Left in the dust, your brain struggles to process it all. Blacking out is the least it can do, but it’s also all it can do, and it does so before you even have a chance to fully register just how young the voice is, and how deeply, heartbreakingly lost it sounds.

When you finally awaken with your bare feet tangled in soft sheets, a layer of fuzzy fleece or slinky silk clinging to your body like another layer of skin, the sunlight pouring in from the window next to your bed momentarily blinding you, and the cries of happy children playing outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—

Something is horribly wrong.

---

JANUARY 1st.

It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping. If you’re twenty years old or older, the bedroom you wake up in is very clearly a couple’s bedroom — with separate beds like a modest, modern couple of course! A similarly lost and confused stranger is in the other. They are your counterpart, for everything in this room has a matching counterpart — the nightstand and lamp each of you have beside your beds, the framed pictures on the wall, even your pajamas. If you’re under twenty years old, your room is smaller but more personalized, filled with comic books, model kits, stray baseball cards littered around the floor. Dolls, fashion magazines of people dressed from a bygone era, stacks of vinyl records neatly arranged next to a record player. And then there are the pictures. They’re everywhere in the house — in a frame on your nightstand, hung on the walls, stuck in the photo albums and scrapbooks lying on your desk or tucked away in drawers. Here you are on your wedding day, exchanging vows with your partner. Here’s you sitting in a fishing boat with one of the younger members of your house. Here’s a picture of you at ten years old getting ready for the first day of school. All of the photographs are aged, sepia, even yellowed and dusty in frames hung for a long, long time. By the time you make it down to the living room, you’ll notice that the television is on; someone must have forgotten to turn it off before they went to bed. On it, the morning news is playing. The newscaster, a man in a gray suit and horn-rimmed glasses, keeps shuffling his paperwork on his desk as black and white footage of people in the midst of celebration — throwing streamers, wearing paper hats, toasting flutes of bubbly liquid — is interspersed between his droning report: ”New Year's Eve was in full swing last night as citizens from all over Santa Rosita came together to ring in 1961. A surge in ginger ale and sparkling cider beverage sales was reported by Honeybees as early as eight o'clock in the evening, a boon for the store…“

---

GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS.

As you get acclimated, you gradually begin to learn more about this strange new world you’ve found yourself in. You’re in a neighborhood on the east side of a town called Santa Rosita located… somewhere in California (wherever or whatever that might be). The year is 1961. If it wasn’t clear enough, your neighbors are more than willing to humor you if you ask. Even if you accost them with questions and demands. Sure, you and your family are a little kooky, and you have a very overactive imagination, but the key to any good joke is playing along! And how could something like “I’m from the future, from another world” be anything but a joke? A. CLOWN AROUND. If December was a time for sweet treats and good food, January is the month where everyone is trying to unload their leftovers. Who better to enjoy them than you, the newest family on the block? Your neighbors have quite a bit of food to share: Throughout the month, they'll stop by to say hello, bringing a new sugary dish with them each time. As always, jello molds are a staple. One plate turns into three turns into five, and by the end of the first week of January, you're likely to end up with a collection of jiggling pink, green, and orange lumps taking up space in your fridge. From mountains of Whip 'n Chill to Broken Window Glass cake, you'd be forgiven in thinking that there's no end to it. And yet, there's the occasional exception. Someone comes by with a Bundt cake lathered in vanilla icing and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Were it not for the giant candy clown head topping it, it would almost look good enough to eat. "There's a rumor going around that you've been a bit under the weather, so I thought this would cheer you up!" they say, right before thrusting the technicolor nightmare into your hands, the clown's dead pink frosted eyes staring up at you. Your neighbor is quick to tell you to eat it while the icing is still fresh (you never know who might lick it off when you're not looking, eh kids?), but not that the clown itself is made out of styrofoam. That's something you'll just have to find out for yourself when you take it back inside and start chowing down!

B. SNOW DAY

What awakens you one cold Friday morning isn't the blare of your alarm clock or your family getting ready to start their day or even the chilly air that tickles your toes as they poke out from the bottom of your covers, but the sound of hooting and hollering outside your window. The sight that awaits you when you go to investigate is something out of a Norman Rockwell painting: The entire neighborhood is outside, playing and carrying on in the snow. While everyone was sleeping, Santa Rosita got four inches of snow, more than enough for the schools to close but not enough to stop everyone from enjoying it.

And enjoy it they are! Children build snowmen in their front yards while their fathers work on shoveling their driveways. Most, however, are busy erecting snow forts in their yards and the middle of the street, running back and forth as they collect ammunition for an ongoing snowball fight that takes up half of the neighborhood. Nobody is spared from their assault, not even the adults, and especially not the newly arrived ones who leave the house. Good luck getting the mail, mom and dad!

"Come on! There's plenty of snow!" one young boy yells at you over a snowdrift. "You can join my team!"

"Nuh-uh!" another boy shoots back. "You can join my team!"

And on and on it goes. Well, for the pacifists among you, making snow angels is always an option!

---

THROUGHOUT JANUARY.

CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma, and other problematic material

There’s no business like show business! And business is hopping at the Starlight Drive-In, which has been boasting about its all-new film premiering on January 2nd and playing all month long. The critics are raving, the townspeople are flocking, and plans to go to the drive-in seems to be all anyone can talk about. “Make sure you get there early to see the serials,” many of them suggest, eyes wide with excitement. “I couldn’t look away!” Whether you come with your family, your friends, or simply come on your own, the lot is packed, Robbies and normal townsfolk alike beaming as they hook the individual speakers onto their cars. Apropos of the cold weather, the concession stand has added seasonal items to their menu, serving up hot chocolate and kettle corn in addition to its usual soda and popcorn. Watching a movie against a backdrop of gently falling snow while you're sipping on steaming chocolate and melted marshmallows has a certain je nais se quoi to it that even you have to admit is appealing. At last, when it's finally dark enough to start, the projector clicks on from the booth in the back of the lot and the movie begins. A. COMING ATTRACTIONS. The movie, Curse of the Doll People, is a horror flick. A real chill-o-rama, starring actors you've never heard of playing a group of archeologists who unknowingly trigger a deadly curse that sets a group of murderous living dolls upon them. The poster pasted on the ticket booth promises it'll be the most fun you'll have screaming. Unfortunately, you have to sit through several minutes of previews first. The coming attractions aren't anything special — a bunch of westerns, a romance, even a beach musical. Far from being bored to tears like you might be, the people in the cars around you are glued to the screen, popping snacks into their mouths and whispering their commentary among themselves. The movie is the reason why everyone's here, sure, but you don't just get one flick out of going to the pictures! There's also the serials, little 5—10 minute long chapter plays that tell a story in pieces. Nothing can beat those, and when the first one starts, everyone sits in rapt attention as if it were the feature presentation itself. But as the scene opens up on a sight that is instantly familiar to you, and your own face stares back at you from the projection screen, it becomes clear that this is no ordinary film. You watch your memories play out in grainy black and white footage, aired for all the world to see. Or perhaps not — though you may not realize it, the movie playing out on the screen differs from person to person. No one sees the same thing. The person next to you might see one of their worst fears come to life, whether imagined or real, practical or fantastic. You might see one of the worst moments of your life — the death of a friend, your hated enemy bringing you to the brink of death, your absolute lowest point — exactly the way you remember it... save for the way your double on the screen occasionally turns to face the audience, staring directly at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. Or the way your loved ones will sometimes go off-script, gazing at you with pleading eyes as they beg you to help them. The people of Santa Rosita will see an exciting battle between two pirate ships, swashbuckling and cannon fire in place of the traumas you're witnessing. When the serial ends on a cliffhanger, much to the disappointment of everyone around you, it's almost a mercy. "Tune in next week for the thrilling second part!" Well, you will, won't you?

---

END OF THE MONTH.

CW: body horror, dolls, violence

Aside from the horror of the drive-in, January might seem to be passing calmly... until one night, something changes. In the middle of the night, once you fall asleep in your comfortable bed (or on your couch, or with your head lolling against the kitchen table), a nightmare comes to you. The shift from whatever dreams you were having to the cold, dark void you find yourself standing in happens gradually and quietly. So too does the image that plays out in your mind's eye: From out of the darkness, a featureless mannequin stands ramrod straight, facing you with its arms pressed rigidly to its sides. It has no face, no identifying marks, no features at all. It's a blank slate in every sense of the word... until it isn't. Slowly, the material of the lower half of its face begins to split as a searing pain tears through your own, as if invisible fingers are ripping your lips off inch by inch. The slit on the doll's face widens and deepens until, finally, mercifully, its new mouth opens as yours disappears, replaced by a flat, smooth barrier of skin. Like it was never there to begin with. The pain returns, this time in your arms and neck — right as the doll's own begin to jerk. Your joints are hardening, seizing up as the doll's arms go from minutely twitching to slowly flexing. While every nerve and bone from your fingertips all the way up to your shoulders grows heavy, the doll tilts its head and looks down at its hands, as if seeing them for the first time. By the time it takes its first step, you've taken your last: the pain has spread to your feet, ankles and toes hardening and locking into place. Every part of you is claimed this way; what isn't taken by force simply fades from your body and shifts into being onto the doll's, your skin replacing its cloth body, your clothing dressing it, your hair filling out its head. Your tongue goes numb as the licks its newfound lips, coarse cloth and batting surging up from your lungs and all the way to the back of your throat. By the time it's over, you can't move. You can no longer breathe. All you can do is stare at the perfect, eyeless double of yourself standing before you. As your eyes begin to burn, the last thing you see before everything goes black is the sly curve of a smile — your smile — before the face wearing it turns away and walks back into the darkness. Luckily, you wake up to a room full of sunshine and the distant sound of traffic as the neighborhood gets ready for another beautiful day. The morning air feels cold and dry on your skin. You're you. As much as you've always been. Right?

A. DOPPELGANGER.

It's the kind of morning that makes you want to sing. Where the sky was once dull and grey, it's now a deep blue. Barring the usual hustle and bustle on the streets of Shadyside, the first sound that greets you when you wake up is the steady beat of water trickling outside your window as the snow begins to gently melt under the rays of the sun. You may even hear the chirp of a bird! January, in all its dreariness, is nearly at an end.

When you leave the room to go downstairs — or upstairs, if you slept in the living room — the house is quiet and flooded with sunlight. With how perfectly silent everything is, it's easy to mistake the calm for solitude and think you're alone.

This is not the case.

Waiting to greet you is a familiar figure. If you go downstairs, you'll see it sitting in your kitchen with its head bowed and its arms hanging limply at its sides; if upstairs, lying in your bed on its back. There's no mistaking who it is. Even at a distance, their hair, face, clothes and features all instantly recognizable, and you know who it is before you even fully register their presence:

You.

Motionless, your doppelganger looks more puppet than person. Its chest is still, not a single breath leaving its mouth. Its eyes are closed. They snap open when you get closer to it, wide enough to see the whites, as its head jerks up to look straight at you. In a staccato imitation of your voice, it chirps at you:

"Hi!"

"Good morning!"

"Hello!"

"Rise and shine!"

Your clone is a good imitation, but not a perfect one. Its movements are stiff and uncoordinated, like a marionette being commanded by unseen strings. Though its cheeks are rosy, its skin is pale and almost glossy with the texture of newly polished porcelain. None of these setbacks bother it in the very least. If left alone, it goes about the house mimicking your morning routine, though given how awkward just walking is for it, it's almost certain to do a very bad job. Still, it tries its hardest, following you all day around the neighborhood, trying to imitate your movements — all with a smile!

That is, until you become aggressive with it.

It doesn't take much to set your doppelganger off — a simple shove will do it. When that happens, its eyes will do the impossible and open even wider, its mouth yawning into a wail that pitches louder and louder. That's the point when it will lunge at you. Its hands will try to go for your throat, but not always. It's resourceful enough to improvise with whatever it has around it, whether that be a kitchen knife, a paperweight, or even a letter opener. Luckily for you, they're fragile. Just hitting them is enough to crack and chip away at their skin. With enough strength, their limbs can even come off. Unluckily, they don't stay down for long; even a severed appendage can be popped back into its proper ball-jointed place.

All the while, they never stop childishly whining and shrieking at you.

"Not nice!"

"Why are you so mean?!"

"Not nice, not nice, NOT NICE!"

The only way to shut them up for good is to keep pummeling them until they're nothing but a pile of doll parts. But be thorough — even a mouth that's nothing but a shard of porcelain can still talk.

---

OOC INFO

Hello, and welcome to We're Still Here's second TDM! Here's a few things we'd like you to keep in mind:

The TDM is canon. You can treat this as the game's first real event and pick and choose what threads you would like your character to remember when they enter the game. For characters who app into the game, the events of the TDM will be treated like a dream. Upon awakening from it, characters will find that time has jumped ahead to February 1st. You may also feel free to use similar reality and/or time distortions to explain why the family members your characters have in the TDM aren't the same as the ones they may be assigned to in the game proper. Additionally, starting today comments made to the TDM will now count towards Activity Check. Current players are permitted to use up to five comments from it for this month's Activity Check — half of the required amount to pass. The other five must be made within the game's communities.

If you would like to have January or other winter-themed content in your relaxed housing prompts, please feel free! You are not beholden to follow our prompts exactly so long as the spirit is maintained.

There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.

Although the TDM is canon in the sense that characters are free to remember its events when they app into the game, it does not count as an official plot heavy event, meaning that characters will not receive regains from participating in it.

A note about the drive-in theater: Players are in full control over what memories, phobias, or fears the serials before the movie will depict. You can also specify whether or not other characters will be able to see your character's serial. Be sure to label your threads with relevant content warnings if needed!

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Comments

luther hargreeves — the umbrella academy

[spaceboys]

01. SNOW DAY

[ the first snowball that hits him explodes against his chest in a mess of white. luther, distracted as he is, doesn't even notice. he keeps walking, feet sinking into the wet snow and soaking his pants.

the next snowball that hits him gets him right in the cheek. that's enough to make him stop, a look of confusion appearing on his face as he glances up, trying to find the source.

that proves impossible though because there's people running all over the place, tossing snowballs at each other. reaching up, he wipes the snow off his cheek and frowns. ]

Ow.

[ that had really stung. when he thinks to just ignore and start walking away, someone runs over to him, pressing a ball of snow into his hand and patting it. she tels him he's on her team, she picks him and...luther's caught off guard enough to let that affect him in a much deeper way than it should.

it's a stupid snowball fight, he has no idea what's going on and why he's here but someone chooses him and that gets underneath his skin.

which is why he's chucking a snowball at the first person he sees, using his considerable strength to try and knock said person over.

he'll apologize later. ]

02. COMING ATTRACTIONS

[ when's the last time he'd been to a movie? luther can't even remember. after the whole thing with the moon and the apocalypse and the...not really being able to fit into chairs with his size, he'd just stopped going. easier that way. no one was screaming at him to duck down or go sit in the back.

but, luther's managed to shove himself into a car, head pressing against the top almost uncomfortably. but he wants to watch a damn movie. he wants to do something normal.

shoving food into his face, luther's attention is more on the snacks than the movie until he glances up and sees himself.

not just himself but himself and his family. everything that he's lived is playing out right there on the television screen and luther points accusingly, looking around to see if others are seeing this.

when a particularly intimate scene between he and allison appears, luther jumps, knocking off popcorn onto his pants and lurching out of the car. ]

Hey! Hey, how are you seeing that? How are you doing that?

[ around him, people just shush him like he's the biggest nuisance in the world. ]

03. DOPPELGANGER

[ it's not the strangest thing to ever happen to him. he's half man, half ape, he's lived on the moon, he's helped caused apocalypses and his mother's a robot thing so having a clone of himself tailig him?

not too strange. okay, it's a little strange. it's very strange and luther doesn't like it. he peeks back behind him, watching the imitation of himslf smile and look behind him, mimicking luther. ]

Okay, that's weird. That's weird. I think I've officially lost my mind.

[ he stops looking back but he knows the other luther is there. it doesn't stop following him and when luther runs, the clone runs too, keeping up easily.

out of breath, luther comes to a stop, hands on his knees and panting. the clone does the exact same thing but he doesn't look out of breath. ]

Oh, shut up. [ maybe he needs to cut out the sweets. ]

04. WILDCARD

[ if you have any other ideas, feel free to throw them at me. i'm game! ]

3

[sonicsiren]

It won't. Not until you destroy it.

[She's been watching Luther for the past couple of minutes, running, the doppelganger chasing him - or, rather, running after him. Dinah's already had a run-in with hers that morning. Now she's coming back from the hardware store, having picked up some supplies to fix some things around the house that she'd broken while fighting her clone.]

I came across mine this morning, and let me tell you, it gets worse before it gets better. I just bought a hammer, if you'd like to use it.

[She'd offer to fight the thing itself, but really, this seems more like something Luther should get the opportunity to do first.]

[spaceboys]

Destroy it?

[ luther scratches the side of his head, trying ot ignore how his clone does the exact same thing. maybe he could just do that, right? ignore the other luther until he goes away?

he's gonna have to get tired of just imitating luther over and over? he's not that interesting and without his family, there's little chance of any world saving adventures.

he thinks, at least. ]

You can't just like...turn it off?

[ luther's killed people before but...this is weird. this is like killing himself and that's weird. ]

There's no on or off switch? [ couldn't be easy, could it? of course not. ]

[sonicsiren]

It never occurred to me to see if there was, to be honest. It only took a minute or two of mine mimicking me before I went at it with a rolling pin.

[And that was just the beginning of their fight.]

There was something delightfully cathartic about it, though. Weird, whaling on a double of myself, but cathartic, too. If you stand still, I can see if it has an off-switch first.

[It seems like the polite offer to make, and given that the clone is going to copy all of his moves, it makes sense for Dinah to be person who inspects the clone.]

But if it doesn't, I'm not sure what decision you're going to feel comfortable making. Having a clone that copies everything you do, or putting yourself out of your misery.

[spaceboys]

Yeah, okay. I think...

[ luther trails off, glancing at the clone and making a face when the clone glances back with the same expression of hope. it's just so...eerie. does his face really look like that?

god, he looks like shit. he really needs to take a goddamn nap. ]

I think if I'm going to take a hammer to what is technically my head, I want to make sure there's not an easier way so I'll be still.

[ luther puts his hands on his hips and then drops then to his sides and then back on his hips. apparently being still isn't as easy as he thought. ]

[sonicsiren]

That's fair. Kind of wish I'd thought of that, to be honest. At least then my kitchen window wouldn't be shattered, and whatever the winter had left of my rosebushes wouldn't have been destroyed.

Don't worry, I promise to be gentle with your, er, other self.

[She sets the bag down on the ground - it's not like anyone is going to steal it here when there are far weirder things afoot - and she steps around Luther's clone slowly.]

I'm Dinah, by the way. Hi.

[She doesn't touch the clone yet - she knows from experience that it might not like to be touched, considering hers had started wailing. Of course, Dinah had hit it first.]

Okay...I'm going to check behind the collar of its shirt and...no. There's nothing. Hmm. Usually you'd think the killswitch would be there for easy access. I wonder if it's a Small Wonder thing and there's a panel in the back of it? Though I don't remember seeing any circuitry like that when I broke my doppelganger's back.

[spaceboys]

Luther.

[ he'd wave but then the clone would wave and he doesn't want to make any sudden moves that might cause it to...go off. he's seen enough of people going off like bombs to last a lifetime.

course, that other person had been his sister, not his clone and he knows there's no off switch for vanya. ]

You broke your doppelganger's back? Damn. How strong are these things?

[ it makes luther the tiniest bit nervous because he's very strong even without enhancements. ]

Where did they even come from?

02.

[mandelbrots]

[On the roof of the car next to his, jacket spread out beneath her like a picnic blanket, Amanda is staring at the screen in rapt attention, a piece of popcorn half-in, half-out of her mouth. The lurching exit catches her attention, but not enough to look away from the screen. Instead, she just stage-whispers her comment to the figure in the edge of her vision.]

Wait, dude, did I miss something? I thought that was his sister. [Crossing her legs, she leans in closer and gives an appraising hum.] She's hot, though. I mean, get it, girl.

[spaceboys]

What?

[ luther looks over, mouth hanging open in a very, very poor impression of a fish. he shuts it quickly, looking aghast.

she can't know that. how can anyone know that that's his sister. but it's not — she's not really his sister. ]

She's not my sister. Well, I mean she is technically but not biologically. And we didn't do anything!

[ is he big enough to run up to the screen and block it? luther's definitely considering it. ]

1

[heraldingangel]

[ He wasn't expecting a warzone when he woke up that morning and dressed in a two-piece suit and a coat to stave off the cold. His sensible shoes clip smartly on the pavement as he walks down the sidewalk following a road he thinks will take him out of town. Unfortunately, he doesn't get a chance to follow his hunch when a packed snowball hits him with enough force to make him slip on the icy sidewalk making him lose his balance. His hands go up instinctively which is most definitely a flail before he lands on a pristine spot of snow making a genuine snow angel. ]

[spaceboys]

Oh, shit, I'm so —

[ luther grimaces, starting to pick his way over to the man that he'd just downed with a snowball. he'd been trying to have a bit of fun but he hadn't wanted to kill someone.

god, that would be just his luck? show up in some strange place and immediately kill someone with a snowball. his next vacation is going to be to delaware. nothing exciting happens in delaware. ]

Hey! Hey man, are you all right? Please be alive.

[heraldingangel]

[ The trials and tribulations of being human are proving to be a lot more difficult than he first expected. He gets up, skin prickling where a bit of snow managed to sneak its way between his collar and nape melting against his skin. Catching sight of someone hurrying over to him, Castiel shakes his head reorienting himself. ]

I'm alive.

[ He states candidly, pushing himself up from where he'd fallen. ]

Did you see who attacked me?

[ He squints past him searching for the perpetrator before they launch another attack, but the place is empty. Perhaps they were hiding, waiting for another chance. His eyes narrow. ]

[spaceboys]

Uh, it was kind of...it was kind of me.

[ luther watches the other man get up and winces, shifting from foot to foot which probably looks strange on a a man his size. but, he is genuinely sorry. sometimes, he forgets how strong he is until he beans some random stranger with a snowball. ]

But it wasn't an attack. I wasn't trying to take you out or anything. It's a snowball. You throw it at people to have fun.

[ or if you were his family, you threw them at each other to see who was superior. ]

[heraldingangel]

[ At the admission, his head turns in his direction with a look of betrayal. Not an attack? By the look he gives him, it's clear he doesn't believe him. ]

You throw frozen projectiles at people for fun?

[ Sounds suspicious there Luther. Also, how are you taller than Sam?! Give him a moment so he can crank his chin up a little higher just to be able to look you in the eyes. ]

Why?

[spaceboys]

Well.

[ luther shifts from foot to foot, putting his way too big hands on his wait and trying to think of an excuse that wasn't absolutely stupid and would also make sense. ]

It's kind of a game, man. When it snows, you have snowball fights.

[ if you were a normal kid, that is. ]

You've never had a snowball fight?

1

[hardcase]

[ Flagg's almost as tall as Luther is, but he's nowhere near as strong and if anything his height makes it easy to knock him off balance. So, when he's hit with the snowball he falls right down into the nearest snowbank.

If anything he's a little impressed that one of these kids managed to hit him with that much force until he wipes the snow away from his face and sees that his attacker is very much not a child. ]

Aren't you a little old for a snowball fight? [ He doesn't get up. He can chill in the snowbank for a while, it's fine. ]

[spaceboys]

[ wow, his aim's a lot better than he thought it was. even diego might be impressed. or diego would roll his eyes and stomp away because that's what diego did.

realizing that he's been asked a question, luther shakes his head. were you ever to old for a snowball fight? probably, yeah, if you were ninety five.

but he's not ninety five. ]

Is there an age limit for snowball fights here?

[ it's a serious question. this place is strange enough that he can see an age limit being possible. he hopes not, though. he doesn't want to get arrested. ]

[hardcase]

Not a hard limit, but I find it's mostly kids.

[ He stands up, brushing the snow off of his jacket and pants. It's a drawback of being reduced to human levels of durability that he's actually sore after taking that fall. ] That's quite a throw you've got. You ever consider baseball instead?

[spaceboys]

Baseball?

[ his confusion isn't over not knowing what a baseball is. he does, he knows what a baseball is but he's just...never thought of himself as someone who likes sports. his upbringing didn't really allow it what with the missions and the training and the everything else.

his father would think sports as an idle folly kind of deal. ]

Uh, no. Why, you think I should have? [ he glances down at his hand and shrugs. ]

Probably too late for that now. [ and he doubts that anyone's going to want someone who's like...him on their team. ]

[hardcase]

Nah, big guy like you'd be a real slugger. Or you can just stick to snowball fights, but I don't think that's a big ratings draw.

[ Is he joking about the baseball thing? Kind of, but only because he doesn't actually like baseball and this place seems obsessed with it. America's favorite sport, after all. ]

I'm Randall Flagg, by the way.

2

[oldmanfive]

[ It wasn't exactly a secret that Luther and Allison had feelings for each other that went beyond the sibling connection. However knowing it and seeing it was two different things. He can't even help but frown. Ew. He didn't need to see that. Then he hears Luther's outburst from a couple of cars down.

Wait. Was Luther actually here in this strange fucking town? He jumps out of the car he is in and sees Luther with his own eyes. The man is too large to miss. ]

Luther! [ He calls out, hoping to all things holy that this isn't some trick of his mind. ]

[spaceboys]

[ luther ignores the sound of his name at first, too stunned by what he's seeing on the screen. he picks up a rock down near his foot and chucks it though it falls far, far short and even if it had gotten there, it wouldn't done a damn thing.

luthere's shoulders sag and he shakes his head before the fact that a very familiar voice had said his name. he swings around in the direction of the sound and squints, blinking several times to make sure that he's seeing what he thinks he's seeing. ]

Five? [ was that — was it really his younger but older brother? here? in this fucking weird town that was currently putting his memories on blast? ]

What the hell — how are you here? [ luther turns his attention away from the screen and starts to move closer. ]

[oldmanfive]

[ The sense of relief that floods Five is almost palpable, he'd been worried about his siblings. While Five was use to landing in weird places on his own, he had never experienced anything like this before. Being placed in a random house with a bunch of strangers was a first for him.

Five makes his own way closer and instinctively scoffs at Luther's question. ]

I woke up in this weird ass town the same as you did. I haven't got a clue as to how I got here. But if you're talking about this.

[ He gestures to the drive in in general, completely ignoring some of the exasperated looks they are getting for talking during the serials. ] Some of the people I'm staying with insisted on coming and dragged me along.

[ He glances over to the screen and slightly grimaces as it seems Luther's memory has finished and in its place, they are playing another one of his memories. More specifically the memory of him speaking to Delores in the darken department store only to be interrupted when Hazel and Cha Cha in their masks appear and start shooting at him. ] God, I hate this fucking place.

[spaceboys]

[ luther really shouldn't be grateful to see his brother's memories starting to play out on the screen but he is because it means his memories aren't up for everyone to gawk at.

luther watches the whole thing play out and winces hazel and cha cha show up because, well those guys were dicks. ]

The guy dropped a chandelier on me.

[ he nods at hazel before he shakes his head, trying to focus on five and not the whole...thing up there. ]

Okay, so you woke up here. You didn't jump? Your powers didn't...fuck up and get you here?

[ that didn't explain luther being here but one step at a time. ]

[oldmanfive]

[ Five lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. While that wasn't the worst memory of his that could have been shared, he still doesn't appreciate it being broadcast to the whole town at large like this. ]

Yeah, I remember Hazel saying as much when I had him and Cha Cha call the Handler. But I'm pretty sure he implied that Cha Cha did it.

[ He says with a shrug, not that it really matters who dropped the chandelier on Luther. Though Luther's line of questioning makes him feel pretty cross, yeah he's botched some time jumps but this shit isn't a time jump. ]

No, I didn't fuck up and land myself here! Luther, I don't even have my powers! I haven't been able to spatial jump or time jump since I woke up in this place.

[ And that is the most frustrating thing about being stuck in this shitty town to him. ]