[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 20 2011, 06:20:18 UTC
[Pokey was holding a cup of coffee when he heard this call on the phone.
That cup? Is now out of his hand and neatly smashed on the tile of the kitchen. For his part, Pokey hasn't bothered to move either. Just standing there in the kitchen. Dully. Not thinking.
He had wanted this. Since he'd gotten here, he'd wanted Picky to show up, hadn't he?
At first he had. As time had gone on, as he'd cared about more people and lost them, had seen how dangerous it was...the more and more he hoped his little brother would never show up.
But now here they were. He was here.
It takes Pokey a moment more before he moves over to the phone and filters the call.]
Shut up Picky. Shut up right now. Don't say another word about who you are to anyone.
[phone][Filtered]imjustpickyOctober 20 2011, 06:28:57 UTC
...Pokey?
[That's his brother. That's Pokey. It couldn't be anyone else, not with shouting like that.]
Pokey! It's you! IT'S YOU!
[He had waited and waited and waited and sometimes he had doubted but finally his brother was back, and...]
...w-what? What do you mean?
[More joy wants to erupt from him, but he's tamping it back down, and quickly. This isn't the kind of reunion he had imagined. Something feels wrong about it all.]
B-but I don't know where I am! And you're here? But.. you left, a-and...
[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 20 2011, 06:32:16 UTC
No. Quit it.
[Do you hear it Picky? Underneath the usual irritation and grumpiness, there's a trace of fear there. He wants you here, and he doesn't. God. What is he going to do.]
This place is super dangerous. You got it. You can't let anyone know you know me.
[A pause as Pokey breathes lightly, trying to collect himself.]
Alright. I want you to find some mail or go outside and tell me the address. Can you do that, Picky? Find the address for the house you're in.
[phone][Filtered]imjustpickyOctober 20 2011, 06:42:13 UTC
[There's normal angry Pokey, and then there's serious angry Pokey. This is the latter. He hadn't forgotten that. Some things go bone deep.]
Okay. Okay, I won't.
[He swallows hard, and shifts the phone receiver from one ear to the other.]
It's dangerous? It's... creepy, but it doesn't look dangerous.
...just a sec.
[And the receiver is set down with a clatter. Pattering feet can be heard running away, and after a little under a minute of silence, Picky returns.]
7132 Brooks Lane. I'm at 7132 Brooks Lane. I saw it on a letter.
Where are you, Pokey? Are you nearby?
[He dares to get excited again, and to let it come through in his voice. Even if Pokey was being really serious and really demanding... well, this wasn't too different from how things used to work.]
[School has normally been uneventful for Clod. She came, listened to the usual litany of national pride and enmity for those dirty Communists, and left with homework that she would often neglect to do. It just wasn't all that fun to her and therefore, not worth doing.
It's lunch time now and the little green girl took her tray and started finding a place to sit. Anyplace will do. Even...
... Hey. Is that... is that her brother? In the distance is a boy who looks similar to Pokey except that he didn't quite have as much volume. Their hairstyle and color seemed to match almost exactly. Clod walks over with her tray to where the boy is sitting alone and sets it there without so much as permission.]
... Yeah, right, there was no way you could be Pokey.
[Picky briefly looked to the girl when she came to the table, then quickly turned his attentions back to his peanut butter sandwich. He had to be careful, that's what Pokey said, or...]
W-what?
[Snap. His head came right back around again, moving with enough speed to momentarily blow the hair from his eyes. Someone was recognizing him already.]
[He seems confused. Well, that's natural when some stranger comes up to you and starts saying what very well might be cryptic statements. But Clod couldn't care less. No, instead, she'll just be sitting right near Picky.]
[He uses this as his chance to cram his mouth full of peanut butter sandwich. It'll take a while to get it chewed and swallowed, and he can use that time to think of something else to say.]
...Finch. I'm Finch.
[It was that or Aloysius. And... no. Aloysius was a terrible name.]
Around Townluxury_bananaOctober 20 2011, 06:28:13 UTC
[It's around the afternoon and the haunted house team is running low on supplies. Already. They're running out fairly quickly all things considered and Fassad takes his car out over to the tool shop from 502 Ricardo. He grumbles a little as he wonders why he has to be the one to fetch what the group needs.
What is he? A monkey?
Along the way, he sees... a kid just crossing the street. He seems to be looking around as he's walking which is only making things slower for him. Well, Fassad knows how to fix that.]
Around TownimjustpickyOctober 21 2011, 03:23:08 UTC
WAAAH!!!
[Picky was no longer lost in his own absent thoughts. The blaring of the car's horn brought him right back into reality, and it brought some serious motion and energy to his legs. He shot off like a bolt, and was across the street in no time.
And then he was turning around to gape at just who or what almost hit him.]
(Engie frowned slightly. The boy didn't seem fine at all. Without hesitating, he took one of the loaves of bread he had just bought and passed it to the kid, a friendly smile on his face)
You don't look too good. Here, have some bread; it's hot and fresh outta the oven.
[Picky takes the loaf of bread, but just stares at it. What's he going to do with a loaf of bread? There was bread at home, right? He frowns, shakes his head, and then offers it back to the man.]
I'm not hungry. There's food at home. This is your bread. It's okay. Here.
[Lucas is in the park doodling in his notebook and doing nothing in particular when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. He half-turns. And stares.
His first thought is a Porky-bot, but the person was too thin. His next thought was some kind of deaging machine having gotten Pokey, but again. Too thin. ..............What was going on?
Picky may eventually notice the blonde boy staring in some measure of confusion and trace amounts of horror.]
[As far as parks go, it's not a bad park. There's space to run, there's playground equipment and it's in good repair... and he makes sure to test this by climbing all over it at least once.
But only once. It's not that exciting.
By the time he has made his way to the swings, he notices that someone has an eye on him. And that someone looks way too freaked out to be one of the drones.]
Uh...
[It may be well-nigh impossible to find his eyes under all those bangs, but Picky's making eye contact with Lucas on his end.]
[He had to keep the act up. Or try to keep the act up. Or make enough of an effort so that Pokey won't slug him too hard when the whole thing fails miserably.]
Comments 187
That cup? Is now out of his hand and neatly smashed on the tile of the kitchen. For his part, Pokey hasn't bothered to move either. Just standing there in the kitchen. Dully. Not thinking.
He had wanted this. Since he'd gotten here, he'd wanted Picky to show up, hadn't he?
At first he had. As time had gone on, as he'd cared about more people and lost them, had seen how dangerous it was...the more and more he hoped his little brother would never show up.
But now here they were. He was here.
It takes Pokey a moment more before he moves over to the phone and filters the call.]
Shut up Picky. Shut up right now. Don't say another word about who you are to anyone.
Reply
[That's his brother. That's Pokey. It couldn't be anyone else, not with shouting like that.]
Pokey! It's you! IT'S YOU!
[He had waited and waited and waited and sometimes he had doubted but finally his brother was back, and...]
...w-what? What do you mean?
[More joy wants to erupt from him, but he's tamping it back down, and quickly. This isn't the kind of reunion he had imagined. Something feels wrong about it all.]
B-but I don't know where I am! And you're here? But.. you left, a-and...
Reply
[Do you hear it Picky? Underneath the usual irritation and grumpiness, there's a trace of fear there. He wants you here, and he doesn't. God. What is he going to do.]
This place is super dangerous. You got it. You can't let anyone know you know me.
[A pause as Pokey breathes lightly, trying to collect himself.]
Alright. I want you to find some mail or go outside and tell me the address. Can you do that, Picky? Find the address for the house you're in.
Reply
Okay. Okay, I won't.
[He swallows hard, and shifts the phone receiver from one ear to the other.]
It's dangerous? It's... creepy, but it doesn't look dangerous.
...just a sec.
[And the receiver is set down with a clatter. Pattering feet can be heard running away, and after a little under a minute of silence, Picky returns.]
7132 Brooks Lane. I'm at 7132 Brooks Lane. I saw it on a letter.
Where are you, Pokey? Are you nearby?
[He dares to get excited again, and to let it come through in his voice. Even if Pokey was being really serious and really demanding... well, this wasn't too different from how things used to work.]
Reply
It's lunch time now and the little green girl took her tray and started finding a place to sit. Anyplace will do. Even...
... Hey. Is that... is that her brother? In the distance is a boy who looks similar to Pokey except that he didn't quite have as much volume. Their hairstyle and color seemed to match almost exactly. Clod walks over with her tray to where the boy is sitting alone and sets it there without so much as permission.]
... Yeah, right, there was no way you could be Pokey.
Reply
W-what?
[Snap. His head came right back around again, moving with enough speed to momentarily blow the hair from his eyes. Someone was recognizing him already.]
...who?
Reply
You looked like family. So, what's your name?
Reply
[He uses this as his chance to cram his mouth full of peanut butter sandwich. It'll take a while to get it chewed and swallowed, and he can use that time to think of something else to say.]
...Finch. I'm Finch.
[It was that or Aloysius. And... no. Aloysius was a terrible name.]
Reply
What is he? A monkey?
Along the way, he sees... a kid just crossing the street. He seems to be looking around as he's walking which is only making things slower for him. Well, Fassad knows how to fix that.]
HOOONK! HOOOOONK!
Reply
[Picky was no longer lost in his own absent thoughts. The blaring of the car's horn brought him right back into reality, and it brought some serious motion and energy to his legs. He shot off like a bolt, and was across the street in no time.
And then he was turning around to gape at just who or what almost hit him.]
Reply
Next time get out of the street faster! Some of us have places to go to! Important places!
Reply
So why aren't you going to those places?! Stop honking at me!
Reply
Sorry there son, didn't mean ta bump into ya like that. Y'all alright there?
Reply
Ah..!
[After bumping into the man, he stumbles back quickly, hands up with flat palms.]
Sorry! I'm sorry!
I-I'm fine.
[Was that a real person? Or one of the drones? Picky peered up at the man from behind his bangs, cautious and unsure.]
Reply
You don't look too good. Here, have some bread; it's hot and fresh outta the oven.
Reply
I'm not hungry. There's food at home. This is your bread. It's okay. Here.
Reply
His first thought is a Porky-bot, but the person was too thin. His next thought was some kind of deaging machine having gotten Pokey, but again. Too thin. ..............What was going on?
Picky may eventually notice the blonde boy staring in some measure of confusion and trace amounts of horror.]
Reply
But only once. It's not that exciting.
By the time he has made his way to the swings, he notices that someone has an eye on him. And that someone looks way too freaked out to be one of the drones.]
Uh...
[It may be well-nigh impossible to find his eyes under all those bangs, but Picky's making eye contact with Lucas on his end.]
Reply
O-Oh! I'm... sorry. You just... You look a lot like...
Reply
[He had to keep the act up. Or try to keep the act up. Or make enough of an effort so that Pokey won't slug him too hard when the whole thing fails miserably.]
Reply
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