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

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?

[sonicsiren]

[Gently, Dinah is patting down the doppelganger, trying to find something - ANYTHING - that might shut it down. But there's nothing. She sighs. Maybe attacking it without question HAD been the right thing to do.]

Nice to meet you. There's no way to shut it off that I can find which is discomforting on a number of levels.

[The wrist radio things they have are overly large and clunky, and it's clear that the technology here isn't GREAT. But then there are the creepy movies that show scenes from their past lives, the fact that they've all been transported to 1961 somehow, the fact that these doppelgangers exist when the tech for them really shouldn't. Is it possible that they're somehow powered by magic instead of tech? A mix of the two? So many questions, so few answers. It's wildly frustrating.]

They're not that strong, and this is coming from someone whose metahuman gifts didn't include superstrength. Not that I have access to my metahuman power here, which is also another weird, discomforting thing.

I don't know about you, but I found mine in my kitchen. Not sure who let it in, or how it got in, or why. But they're clearly meant to screw with us somehow.

[spaceboys]

This thing was...well, I was going to use the bathroom and there it was, standing behind the door. It startled me.

[ startled, nothing. he'd stumbled backwards and tripped over his own two feet, ending up on the bed and nearly off it via the other side.

he was just going to keep all that to himself, though. he doesn't want to get some kind of reputation. ]

When you killed yours, did anything, uh, happen? After? Did you feel anything? Like pain or weird or something?

[sonicsiren]

That sounds a hundred percent worse than finding it in the kitchen, ready to shadow you while you struggle to make a good cup of coffee. Spoiler: Still not good at making the sludge.

[Hey, people deal with strangeness differently. Dinah's definitely not going to judge.]

This probably isn't the answer you're looking for, but I mostly felt relieved at having destroyed the thing. It's been awhile since I've gotten the chance to fight something, so there was adrenaline and a rush and other things that definitely isn't polite to talk about in 1960s society.

But no, it didn't feel like I was tied to to the thing in any way, if that makes sense. If it had lasted longer...who can tell?

[spaceboys]

Yeah no, I reacted...pretty well.

[ that is a lie. that is a huge lie but no one needs to know that but him and his clone and it doesn't look like his clone's much of a talker. he's fine with that. ]

All right, so I guess I either live with this thing constantly being around me, mimicking me, doing everything I do for the rest of my life.

[ on the one hand, instant friend. on the other, how sad is it that he's thinking that? ]

Or I bash its brains in and make it go away.

[sonicsiren]

[While Luther speaks, Dinah roots around in her shopping bag and soon comes out with the hammer. It's your typical hammer, nothing special, but it'll get the job done.]

There's no blood or guts, if that's what you're worried about, but fair warning - it does start wailing and screaming the second you get violent with it - and it fights back.

[There doesn't seem to be anything nearby that the doppelganger could use as a weapon, but Dinah's doppelganger had gone for her throat first, before Dinah had wrenched on of its arms off to beat it back with, so who knew how this one was going to react.]

[spaceboys]

[ fighting back is at least something he knows. he's a fighter, it's something he's good at so he wants to think he can handle...himself.

but then it dawns on him that if he's strong, his clone's probably going to be pretty strong too.

ugh, this was going to suck. he holds a hand out for the hammer since he thinks having a weapon's going to give him an advantage. ]

This feels weird.

[ but not the weirdest thing he's done. luther takes a breath and then cocks the hammer, apologizing quietly before he swings it down on top of the clone's head.

he's very glad that there's no squish of blood or bone but the clone does start screaming and fighting, just like dinah said.

so, he swings again, kicking it to stagger it backwards. ]

Holy shit!

[sonicsiren]

It helps if you detach yourself from the situation. You know, compartmentalize?

[Between spying and superheroics, as well as occasionally going undercover as a villain, it's a thing that Dinah's had to do a lot of over the years.

As Luther starts attacking his clone, it's something of a wonder that they haven't drawn a crowd, but it also makes sense, she supposes. The people of Santa Rosita seem absolutely determined to ignore or laugh off anything out of the ordinary. There's no way they'd survive a night in Gotham City and come out the other end sane.]

On the bright side, it stops mimicking you, at least. Are you okay?

[She hasn't joined in on the fight; that would be rude. But she is keeping her eye out for anything else that this could attract. Just in case.]

[spaceboys]

Yeah, yeah.

[ luther's a little out of breath but he's all right. the thing had taken a few swipes at him, catching his chin and shoulder and while that stung, it hadn't dropped him.

it's strange to be standing above the corpse (could it be a corpse it wasn't really alive?) of the thing with his face. ]

Does this type of thing happen a lot? [ he doesn't know why he's assuming she's been here awhile but she'd known how to deal with this so he's going with it. ]

Strange shit like a clone just surprising you while you're trying to do your business in the bathroom.

[sonicsiren]

I've barely been here a month, but a friend told me that this sort of thing isn't exactly uncommon. Though from what I understand, the doppelgangers are a fun new party trick devised to torture us in some way.

[For what purpose, Dinah can't tell, but the fact that they were so marionette-like makes Dinah wonder if it's supposed to be some sort of hint. Act like the puppets that whoever is in charge of Santa Rosita clearly wants you to, or else?]

I'm more owrried it could be a test run for a more realistic doppelganger that could entirely replace us or something if we don't play along with whatever the hell this game is supposed to be.

[spaceboys]

Well.

[ luther's words trail off after that because that thought is kind of horrifying but also believable. if he can be what he is then why can't some mad scientist create some realistic version of him and take him out?

god, he's never going to get a good night's sleep again. ]

That's a terrifying thought and one that I am not going to say thank you for because it's going to be in my head for all time.

[ so, thanks dinah. ]

I'd rather not be replaced, if I can help it. But I don't want to play some weird town's game either.

[sonicsiren]

Sorry. I really should have thought before I spoke - I was just thinking out loud. Honestly, there's not a lot to go on as to why some of us received these visitors. I'm mostly shooting in the dark here.

[She gives what she hopes is something of a comforting smile to Luther.]

I met a friend this morning, he said they have some sort of neighborhood watch deal for those of us who aren't, ah, exactly native to this place and are coming across weird occurrences. I don't know when the next meeting is, but I'm planning on going. You're more than welcome to come if you like - strength in numbers and all that.

[spaceboys]

I've seen signs for those kind of things.

[ neighborhood watch, he means. he's never actually attended because, well, he wasn't part of the neighborhood and it wasn't like anyone else would look after their family home.

but hearing there's a group of people who know that this place is fucking weird and are trying to deal with it interests him. he doesn't just want to sit around and wait for someone to try and replace him. ]

You know how many people are in this group? Are there a lot of people?

[ seems like there would have to be to combat a place that could just create clones. if they wanted to have a chance, they had to have the numbers. ]

[sonicsiren]

I don't have an exact number, to be honest, but I believe a good enough amount. I'm friends with the man who created the group, and he's...well, he's got a good sense for these things.

[The guy in question was the gd Batman, after all.]

Though once we get a feel for who's in the group, and what skillsets they have...

[Did her house have a basement? She'd have to check. Given the doppelgangers, if any of these people didn't know how to fight, it might be wise for them to learn. Which meant that Dinah could very well end up running her own makeshift underground dojo.]

...I think we might have a clearer picture of what we need to do to move forward. From what I understand, everyone is mostly currently just playing the part this place seems to want us to play.

[spaceboys]

[ it's better than nothing. luther would love to have answers and plans immediately but he knows that's not how it works. not even back home, surrounded by his family, is how it works.

besides, their plans were always shit anyway and hardly worked so...probably better that he sees this out without comparing it to his siblings. they god things done...messily.

sighing, he looks down at his broken clone and shakes his head. ]

This the worst thing you've seen?

[ he points down at the mess he's just made. ]

Or should I prepare myself for worse?

[sonicsiren]

"Worst" is subjective, but this is the first time I'm seeing something that could be considered a physical attack.

[Sure, the things were only mimicking them at the beginning, but who knows what sort of sinister thing the doppelgangers would have done if one of them had tried to just live with the thing?]

And - I realize that this is in no way comforting - I'm pretty sure the worst is yet to come.

[spaceboys]

[ it can't be worse than the apocalypse, can it? he decides not say that out loud. ]

Okay, so this place is really shitty wrapped up in a pretty bow.

[ he can deal with this. he's lived on the moon, he'd seen the apocalypse, he can deal with this. ]

I guess the weather's nice?

[ silver lining. ]