dick grayson (
dickism) wrote in
meadowlarklogs2021-02-20 02:40 pm
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(no subject)
WHO: Dick, Kyna, Bellamy + others
WHERE: All around New Amsterdam
WHEN: IC September
WHAT: Various open/closed starters
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a
WHERE: All around New Amsterdam
WHEN: IC September
WHAT: Various open/closed starters
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a
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[She says, tugging at a long lock of hair. She was more annoyed than she'll admit at losing her hair when she first got here.
But now she waves him over, patting the seat of the stool next to her. Ominous?]
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But he is alone here, without anything that feels familiar, clad in an outfit consisting of pieces of clothing that he had just thrown together, none of it what he would actually wear if he had the option of choosing. Simon is exhausted simply from the lack of sleep and agonizing pain of being alone, and so he finally sits, though not without pulling the chair a bit farther away from her.]
Did you wanna... Talk about it?
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Speaking of, she doesn't really answer Simon's question, just slides the fries toward him.]
Try it.
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[Simon's answer is curt, said with an air of childishness. He may be eighteen, but he has all the emotional instability of a young boy who has only just hit puberty. He lets out a huff of air, folding his arms and leaning backwards in his chair.]
I'll pass.
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[She says it in a singsong voice, slightly cajoling, that "dare at a party" tone lacing her words.]
Are you afraid of it?
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[sIMON SHE DIDN'T CALL??? YOU THAT]
I am a leader of the Apex, a self-published author, and the uncontested champion of Chubby Bunny.
[nobODY nEEDed this MONOLOGUE]
I will not be defeated! And I...
[A huge gulp.]
Will not cower in the face of one measly, disgusting-looking fry.
[He takes one bite after teasing the smallest one out from the pile, immediately wincing, repulsed. Simon does swallow though
eyyy.]God, why? Why would you order something like that? It's just soggy potato and chemicals? With crunchy pieces of I know that can't be real bacon-
[He's just gonna continue grumbling and y'know, being a general annoyance.]
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Wait, wait— Chubby Bunny? Is that like some Fortnite shit?
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What? Oh, no.
It's the game with... Y'know, all the marshmallows? That you put in your mouth.
[Simon is weirdly earnest about this.]
You stuff your face with as many as you can and try to say the words "Chubby Bunny" without all of them falling out? The person who can do that with the highest number, well-
[s i m o n]
They're the undisputed reigning champion.
[why those specific words...]
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Wait, why are you using that to impress me?
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[He is dead serious.]
It's a title, and titles mean things.
[nonono, please don't say the next thing-]
And it's a useful skill!
[NOOOOOO
HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT]
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Useful, huh?
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[He has No Idea.]
In the event that a foraging expedition is intercepted by a null or other potential threats to one's personal safety, the inside of your mouth can serve as a useful storage space provided that all other methods for containment are otherwise occupied.
[He sounds like he's reciting something from a book, a line he memorized a long time ago. Simon does scrunch his nose a bit though, realizing that his words may come off as uncouth.]
I know it sounds kinda gross, but... You do what you have to if you wanna survive.
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Are you a chipmunk?
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[He scoffs at that.]
No, I...
Don't have the typically identifiable characteristics and/or species trademarks, plus I am much taller, a d d i t i o n a l l y-
[He blinks, finally catching himself in his... Um, weird infodump spiral.]
Wait a second.
Are you makin' fun of me?
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I'm not making fun of you. I'm teasing you. There's a difference.
[Teasing isn't mean. Usually.]
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Simon and Grace trade barbs all the time. His quips can never quite match up to hers and sometimes the teasing does feel a little targeted, but this dynamic is familiar to him.
So he sits. Oddly, Kyna's demeanor is helpful. This feels more normal than most of the conversations he's had.]
Well then... I guess that's okay.
[The more time that passes, the more unappetizing those soggy fries look.]
But is eating all this icky stuff really gonna make you feel any better?
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[It's complicated, Simon! And while she'd usually just brush him off, not really talk about her feelings much, he kind of reminds her of how she used to be—really, really bad at talking about this shit. So.]
I'm like... wallowing, you know? So I'm gonna let myself eat a bunch of shit that's bad for me for a while and mope, and then... Try to suck it up, I guess.
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[Simon's brows press together. He's not the best at talking through things, especially when it comes to the emotions of others.]
Did you two get in a fight? You 'n your, uh... Not husbandy... Guy?
[He would say "boyfriend," but sometimes things are not that simple.
Simon knows that he and Grace are friends, but he also can't deny that he's always been hoping for more. No matter how crazy it might sound. He's just too much of a coward to take the next leap. That and he can't afford to lose the only friend he's ever really had.]
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[She says it more softly, tugging absently on a strand of hair.]
He wasn't my husband or my boyfriend. He was a really good friend of mine.
[That's the crux of it, whatever crush or attraction was there.]
And he disappeared. I think he went home.
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So that's where people go.
[The "I think" is not reassuring, but for once, Simon has the wherewithal not to ask about it. This woman is sad, possibly inebriated, and is making poor dietary choices. Lance or Ren are more reliable potential sources of information.]
Would you say that he was-
[Simon is hesitant to speak the next few words, because knows what he can and can't deny.]
Your best friend? Here, I mean.
Or, like, close.
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Yeah. One of my best friends.
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That's so hard, that's really hard, I-
[If anyone knows what it's like to feel alone, to struggle with the idea of putting your truest self out there only to have your hopes dashed when trying to connect with other people, it's him.
So much of that is Simon's own fault, although there is a small bit that isn't. If he could just stand to leave the spooky vault of his own twisted, fractured mind and just try to see things from the perspective of another person, maybe things would be different. But nobody has taught him how, you see, for he has spent the greater portion of his now young adult years unsupervised, unguided.
Somehow, Kyna's misery makes him uncharacteristically upset. Because for once, he believes he just might understand how the other person feels.]
I'm so sorry.
[If he was still on the train with that eerie green glow in the palm of his hand, he would notice that the numbers on his arm would be changing this very second, and perhaps when he returns-]
Is there anything I can do? U-uh, oh, I...
[There will be less of them.]
I guess I don't really know you.
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But he's trying, and she doesn't want to be an asshole.]
Um, no, it's okay, it's—
[God.]
I mean, thanks. I'm not good at this stuff, but you're helping.
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[Wow... He.]
Like, me? I helped?
[...Simon isn't used to hearing anything like that. Briefly, he looks around to see if she's talking to anyone else behind him and... Oh, no. Yeah, that really was directed at him.
If he were to have a peek inside Kyna's head, he would have a loud outburst. Something along the lines of, "Oh god, same."]
And, uh, don't worry about it.
I'm no good at this stuff either.
[He shrugs haphazardly.]
But I'm tryin' to be better?
[Well, would you look at that.
Again, Simon would not be able to see it, but his number would in fact continue to decrease.]
I miss my best friend too. But, uh, I guess... She was never really here in the first place. Like, here here.
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Yeah, you helped.
[She nudges his shoulder playfully, even as she focuses on that last part.]
What do you mean, she wasn't really here?
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