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21 // action // forgetting whole days is my favourite thing!
[ In the library is a big ol' pile of books. Several of the books have forks and spoons lodged between their pages, as though the cutlery has been flung at them at high speed. But it isn't any big ol' pile of books: no, this is a book-and-blanket fort, lovingly built to withstand even the most vicious of onslaught.
Inside, Alex is just waking up.
He notices his pounding head and horribly dry mouth, and makes a long noise of discomfort.
He notices the fact that he's not lying on his couch, but on something hard and uneven, and makes a slightly shorter noise of confusion.
He realises that he doesn't know what he's lying on, then cracks his eyes open until his sluggish brain adds helpfully that he doesn't know where he is, and he makes a considerably shorter noise of panic and sits abruptly upright, jostling the sleeping man beside him (plus the rather large and now rather disgruntled spider which had made a very comfortable web between his arm and chest). He doesn't think about that part, though; it turns out that sitting up so quickly was a bad idea, and now he's knocking books and blankets out of the way so that he can lurch outside the fort on his hands and knees and puke. ]
Inside, Alex is just waking up.
He notices his pounding head and horribly dry mouth, and makes a long noise of discomfort.
He notices the fact that he's not lying on his couch, but on something hard and uneven, and makes a slightly shorter noise of confusion.
He realises that he doesn't know what he's lying on, then cracks his eyes open until his sluggish brain adds helpfully that he doesn't know where he is, and he makes a considerably shorter noise of panic and sits abruptly upright, jostling the sleeping man beside him (plus the rather large and now rather disgruntled spider which had made a very comfortable web between his arm and chest). He doesn't think about that part, though; it turns out that sitting up so quickly was a bad idea, and now he's knocking books and blankets out of the way so that he can lurch outside the fort on his hands and knees and puke. ]
[action]
[ ...is really all Philip has to say to the matter, before his mind slips back into blissfull unawareness, almost as if knowing that once he opens his eyes he will have to deal with his new outfit (http://i.imgur.com/CzVvj.jpg) and his eight-legged companion who, despite the position Philip just placed it in, is not in fact a fluffy pillow. ]
[action]
...What the hell. What the actual hell.
This is definitely a hangover. The Operator's never given him a hangover before. But why the hell would he have gone out and gotten drunk?
Moving painfully, stiff and with a hammer-shaped dent in his ribcage (apparently he was sleeping with one, for protection or something presumably), he sits back on his hackles and starts searching his pockets. It's slow, but it's urgent: he's looking for a camera wasp.
(...and he's gradually realising that there's something wrong with his hair. The balance is off, and it's not falling over his ears as it should. Cameras come first, however.) ]
[action]
Time passes.
Yet more time passes.
Then, at last, a voice behind Alex calls out, hoarse, low, yet with a desperate sense of urgency. ]
...eeeeelp! Some- somebody, help me!
[ Oh pillow, why did you have to betray Philip so? ]
[action]
...
This was another fucking event, wasn't it? Wasn't it? ]
I hate this place...
[ Voice: more of a dry cough than anything else. Talking: not recommended as an accompaniment to hangovers. Philip: clearly in distress.
...wait, run that third one past him again?
Oh, hell.
But Alex's reaction time at the moment is shot to pieces, so let's end this tag with him looking back into the fort with a sinking feeling to see not one but two huge spiders, and that Phil person nicely blanketed in webs, and realising that, crap, maybe the man's loving cuddles towards the creature were misleading. ]
[action]
When Alex woke up it didn't have much of an effect on Philip himself, but his spidery companion was very much roused from its peaceful sleep and, refusing to be used as a pillow any longer, decided to set some ground rules for this relationship.
Ground rules in a man / dog-sized spider relationship do of course include one calling over a friend nearby and entirely covering the other in webs. Guess which one is which!
Also guess why Philip has stopped calling for help. I'll give you a hint: It starts with "My mouth is covered in webs now" and ends with "OHGODOHGODOHGOD I'M GOING TO DIE OHG- CLARENCE, STOP SINGING, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" ]
[action]
Alex scoops up the hammer, steadies himself and... considers his chances against two dog-sized spiders. Then weighs said chances up against the chances that Philip will die if Alex, say, wanders off to find a glass of water.
...has he mentioned that he hates this place. This is one of those times when he kind of wouldn't mind still being able to freeze stuff, you know, as an emergency measure.
He eyes the spiders with a distinct lack of love, and picks up a heavy-looking book in his off hand. ]
Get lost.
[action]
You came, you are so pretty! But I have been webbed! Imeanuh...Philip would love to contribute, but even if his mouth wasn't forced shut, if the look of utter terror on his face is any indication, well, at least one thing in this fort is frozen solid, Plasmid or not.
When I purchased the spider surprise I was informed that they were highly intelligent specimen, so it is fair to say that Alex's gesture of rejection doesn't go unnoticed.
They are conscientious workers however, so they finish webbing the rest of Philip before feeling entirely underappreciated and taking their leave, presumably to share their webbed love with somebody else. ]
[action]
Both of these things, surprisingly enough, come to him as something of a relief. ]
--Crap.
[ He hurries towards the poor webbed gentleman, because the nasty thought's struck him that he doesn't know how well Philip can breathe in there, and even if he has no airway troubles it's unlikely that he's having a grand old time. Alex crouches down with a certain amount of discomfort and, once he's gotten a grip on the webbing, starts trying to pull it away from Philip's mouth and nose. ]
[action]
Are those spider legs?! Are they going to lay eggs in my mouth?!
...ah, reasoning? Sorry, he left that in his other dress. Anyway, he'll probably calm down and thank Alex sooner or later (much later). For now he will stick to nervous and jagged breaths which I'm guessing won't do much for his well-being either. ]
[action]
[ It's croaked, and turns into a minor coughing fit (jesus god he needs some water), but at least it's not the sound a spider makes?
Alex tugs at the web, pulling it away from the rest of Philip's face. ]
[action]
They were-- are they- they were real- are they gone, are they- did you-- You saw them too, didn't you, are they gone now?
[...attempt words of thanks, which somehow come out as something else entirely. ]
[action]
And there are more important things to worry about. He pauses for a moment before answering, because - the fact that Philip has to ask just makes him deeply uncomfortable, okay? ]
'Course they were real.
[action]
[ He looks around the fort again, now able to use his entire head to do so. After a while his breathing slows down.
By the way, did we say new outfit (http://i.imgur.com/CzVvj.jpg)? We meant of course new outfit (http://imgur.com/OUnMc.jpg), although it may not matter much on the long run... except that Alex will find his hands covered not only in webbing, but also in sparkles at some point. ]
'Course they were real...
[ His gaze stops at the ceiling, not just for a moment, but completely, and he continues staring, as if into a distance much further away, unable to grasp a coherent thought, including the one that he could probably move his arms and help free himself now. ]
[action]
The mansion... weird stuff happens here sometimes.
[ He peels lovely glittery webbing off the torso of the dress, and after some annoyance cuts Phil slack for not helping, 'cause your first event always kind of knocks you for six. ]
Pretty often.
They might've been someone's pets, people here have stupid pets. [ Pot, kettle, black. ]
[action]
[ Philip frowns. With the spiders gone he was just about to drift off into a blissful world of near-catatonic detachment, but Clarence's voice jerks him back into reality. ]
I thought you drowned, you fucking bastard.
[ And by reality we mean the knowledge that Clarence wasn't amongst the brain cells that were killed in last night's binge drinking. The reality according to which Philip just said that out loud with somebody listening? It'll take a moment to catch up. ]
[action]
What?
[action]
...and in which he just spat a nonsensical curse at the person next to him. The language alone is not something that normally makes it past his thoughts->words filter, but swears are probably the least of his problems with the content of that sentence still hanging in the air. ]
Ah, nothing.
[ He pulls himself into a sitting position. ]
Nothing, really. I'm-
I'm sorry, I guess I was still a little out of why am I wearing a dress?
[action]
[ Alex doesn't even try to sound like he believes it. Although he is cautiously relieved that Philip isn't accusing him of being someone else or freaking out and getting violent. ]
[action]
Was there... a party or something?
[ Philip drinks, absolutely, but only in moderation. Judging by the empty bottles of Jack Daniel's, 'Moderation' must be the name of their fort. ]
[action]
Event, probably.
[ Maybe Phil has heard about events? ]
[action]
Let's enjoy lucid for now though, because that party did actually have its effect on Clarence and he finds it difficult to make his message heard through Phil's (and arguably his own) throbbing headache. ]
Eventevents, they... happen periodically, last for a few days and...
[ He spent part of his first days learning Ivanova's information pamphlet by heart and is now reciting the results. ]
...and they are based on memories, can be silly or dangerous. Or both, I suppose.
[ Another glare at his dress and the bits of webbing still attached to it. A low groan too, because using his head made him remember just how much it actually hurt. ]
. . . .
Is that why you-- [ He points his finger at his own hair. ]
[action]
Wait, what's he asking now...? ]
Why I...?
[ He puts his hand on his head, and finds a buzzcut - what. Quests further and finds some kind of stiff, upright - is that a fucking mohawk? He looks horrified for a moment, then closes his eyes. ]
Oh. For fuck's. Sake, [ he says, in the tone of someone who has enough on his mind without
KUUUUURTthe universe throwing this at him too, tyvm. ][action]
The moment doesn't last long, not for Philip anyway, because he has gradually started to realise that the sinking feeling in his stomach isn't so much emotional discomfort as it is whatever party foods he had trying to escape to the surface. ]
I'm just... going to get some air.
[ He doesn't wait for a reaction and leaves the fort on his knees, the dress adding an extra layer of awkwardness to his movements.
Outside he finally gets up, stretches, takes a deep breath and-- freezes at the scenery around him. ]