towerofanimus | (no subject)

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Who: Marty and open (if you don't mind the freezing snowy outside)
Where: Floor 35
When: Evening
What: Fallout isn't just physical.
Warnings: Uh, this is depressing. Serious downer under the cut.

Today, Marty was standing at the edge of the fishing lake, staring at the water with his hands in his pockets. He sort of had to because it was getting colder every day and the last thing he wanted was frost bite. Just hiding them under the cowboy poncho he wore over the 2015 self drying jacket wasn't quite enough right now.

Today, staring at the water was the only way he could even remotely feel calm. After everything that had happened, he wanted to rampage. To break something, anything. To have enough power to break into the restricted levels and demand those people bring back everything he had known.

What kinda life was this? He had seen the future. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to grow up, get a job, marry Jennifer and have two kids. Maybe even a dog. Doc was supposed to marry Clara and have Jules and Verne (so Doc said but Marty hadn't quite gotten to that point when he'd been ripped out of the universe.)

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Watching the water, snow falling slowly, was the only thing that could keep him steady.

When monsters roamed freely.

When they lived in what could only be one of H. P. Lovecraft's Eldritch abominations.

When people died and came back.

When oatmeal was the meal of choice.

He was starting to feel like a rag doll someone had constructed and given memories just so they'd have a more interesting play thing. Like he didn't have a life of his own, just living someone else's.

Had any of it even been real? His life, his childhood. Setting the carpet on fire... Jennifer. It'd been real, right? Love had been real? Family, and pets?

Doc Brown was here. That was the one constant since this whole thing began. It was a small comfort.

No, he wouldn't cry. Not after everything he had gone through. There was still... just so much work to be done. He couldn't stop now.

"Fucking hell." It came out as a shivery, gasping sob. He still wasn't crying. At least that's one thing he could hang on to.

Even if he stared at it all night and froze to death, he would just wake up again.

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Ken was entirely disappointed by all the floors 31 through 36--not in their contents, because they were mostly great--forest, lake, open land, fresh air. That was probably about as good as this place got.

No, he was disappointed because no matter what form he first took when he set foot (or paw) on the first of them, he was forced painfully back to his human form, trapped in it, and weakened until he'd passed through. He'd spent hours on the floor with the forest, hunting because he couldn't eat the crap the cafeteria was trying to push off on them, only to leave with nothing. He simply couldn't hunt properly like this. Luckily he was still weather-tolerant, it would have been insult on top of injury if he was shivering on top of feeling humiliated, exhausted, and hungry. He just wanted to get back to the dorms, find Aya, and curl up for a long nap.

When he got up to the lake, there was someone else there. And because he just couldn't leave well enough alone...

"It's way too damn cold to go swimming, y'know."

Letting out a short, mirthless laugh, Marty shook his head. "I'm not worried 'bout that. I'd just wake up tomorrow, good as new. I've died, three, four times already. It's always the same." Except for that last time. He'd gotten to know what it was like having a full blown nuclear meltdown in his face.

He didn't even really feel the cold, anyway. Those old cowboys knew how to survive in harsh climates, and he learned a few things.

"This lake's no good for swimming anyway."

Hey, it worked to get the kid's attention anyway. That's the first step of making sure you don't drown yourself out of misery, right?

"Does it really matter how many times you've died? You're alive now." Ken has a very matter-of-fact view on that--you're either alive or dead, and the former is great while the latter is a fact of life. That sometimes doesn't stick. "Obviously you're just too much for death to handle."

Psychological trauma, what's that? Ken is Courage Wolf personified. ~~Easy for him to say, he hasn't been around long enough to die horribly yet.~~

"Better than swimming pools, that chlorine shit smells horrible. Seriously, how do you even stand it?"

Edited 2012-12-05 20:24 (UTC)

Marty gazed at the newcomer with incomprehension written on his face. Swimming pools and chlorine? What was this guy eve talking about?

He wasn't in a good mental place to be going over philosophical stuff.

"People aren't supposed to die over and over."

Absolutely nothing. He's not very well-versed in conversation and tends to jump all over the place topic-wise. Not even his friends get what he's talking about half the time.

"Well no, but that's how this place apparently works. Maybe I'll change my mind when I've been around longer, but I'd rather be alive than dead, no matter what the circumstances."

The trip to the farmland fruitless, Enoch continued up the tower, since it was easier to get to his room that way. He was looking forward to the moment he left these power-nullifying floors behind. Snow was brutal when all you had on your feet was sandals. His cloak pulled tight around him, he slowed to a stop on the stairs when he heard Marty.

He couldn't leave someone who sounded like they were in so much distress without trying.

Enoch approached, slow going for the cold, and pushed his hood back a little, so his face was at least somewhat visible from the side as he stepped up to the lake beside Marty, for the moment going for the old standby of simply being a presence, hopefully comforting.

Kyrie hadn't come to an outdoors floor for any reason in particular. It seemed a good idea to test the differences in cold between the 'indoors' and 'outdoors', but nothing much else.

Of course, finding a boy about her son's age clearly in distress wasn't what she had expected. At first she intended to leave, not wanting to disturb Marty or get herself wrapped up in something. But when she heard his weak cursing, she pressed forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Marty just shook his head, ducking it and running a hand through his hair to dislodge the snow building up.

"That's the thing, we die but we don't die here. There's no way out. So what do you do when there's nothing left to live for?"

Only taking a second to glance over, Marty wasn't sure what to do or say with the newcomer. He was less likely to curse again. It was something he did because he thought he was alone. The last thing he wanted was for Doc to see him like this, or it to get back to him.

The sudden warmth of the hand was enough to make Marty start slightly, too deep into his own thoughts to really notice someone approaching him, which was sort of dangerous because the monsters would be coming out soon.

"Uh... hi..." It came out a bit lame sounding.

"Dying isn't a way out of anything except life. Nothing's everthat easy, kid. And I dunno, I've always been the sort of guy to live just for the sake of it."

Ken shook his own head, he probably wasn't doing any good. Omi was better at these kinds of talks than him.

"I've talked to a few folks who're dead and have stayed that way, they'd think we were damn lucky to get a second, third, or tenth chance at it. Even if the circumstances fucking suck."

Enoch hadn't expected the face that belonged to the distressed person to be a familiar one. Or, rather, one he'd seen once before. He was good with faces.

"...This tower wears on all of us."

"I dunno... I had a life back home, you know? Jennifer, my parents, my brother and sister..." Marty had been having a lot of trouble since coming to the tower, but never this bad.

"I get that life isn't supposed to be all fun, but it's like they're trying to torture us here. Dax says they aren't but... how can we live here if everything's a lie?"

It was a bunch of random, rushed thoughts, and Marty spoke the words quickly like they would get lost if he didn't let them out.

"Wears?" The word came out harsh, with incredulity tinging it. He dropped his head and sighed. "Grinding seems better..."

"Are you alright?"

She offered a warm smile, tilting her head to the side slightly as a small gesture to lighten the mood.

Enoch turned a little to face Marty and leaned in a bit, to seem more open without giving up the warmth of his raised hood and closed cloak. "...Will talking help?"

Doc hadn't particularly searched to see Marty today, he figured the boy needed some time alone after all and he hardly could help him after all that had happened. Yet he found him on the 35th floor as he had taken Copernicus out for a walk, while Einstein was most likely sleeping in the lab. Having two dogs was a bit too much for him at once, especially at his age.

He didn't speak immediately when he spotted Marty and heard his words, though he could say his friend and assistant was in a really... Bad state. He himself was having a hard time to cope with the tower, even more so since the explosion and his subsequent death.

"I'm sorry Marty." he finally spoke with a grave voice, much like how he had when Marty had seen his father's grave in the alternate 1985 "I promised you we'd find a way out of this quickly but I'm afraid this time I have totally failed it."

This was so much worse than that. So much more worse.

Oddly enough, that was one of the things that had been running through Marty's head in the past hour. The graveyard in the Tower, having to go by it almost every day.

This was his whole family, minus Doc and Einstein. The universe. And it was just too much to handle anymore.

"Doc... you ever wish you could go back in time and change things?" He tried to keep his voice light, the joke already being bad, but it didn't go well and it cracked somewhere around "time."

Slowly, he shook his head. He didn't know what would, to be honest, but feelings were often unpredictable.

"I don't know what to do. It just feels like we're ants trying to take down a mountain."

Edited 2012-12-10 00:43 (UTC)

"I don't think anybody's all right in this place. It's just... kinda fake." He didn't elaborate on what he meant, but it was fairly obvious he meant the Tower.

"I'm Marty..."

Truthfully, Doc avoided spending time in the graveyard. Not a good place and at best, it brought back pretty bad memories. Not only from the homeworld, but from the people they had known in the tower...

He sighed and nodded at Marty's word.

"I've created a time machine Marty! I suppose unconsciously I wanted to change the past. Maybe make it so my father and I would have been on good terms before his death." he spoke slowly and stopped walking as he reached Marty "But you and I know better than anyone the dangers of meddling with the flow of time."

He made a small noise of affirmation, and was quiet for a while. It was the same sort of feeling he'd had after October, after all. The feeling that nothing they did or that happened could go right.

"I know. And I know it won't seem like much, but...we can survive."

"Doc... do you think... maybe even if we make one now, it wouldn't work?" Marty slowly leaned over onto Doc subconsciously. "After what happened, you know... we don't even have Mr. Fusion now."

"Yeah, but what kinda life is that? I changed the timeline, so everyone would have a better life... now it's like, everything's gone, so what was it for? What's any of this for?" Marty's voice was quiet, calm, but it was the kind that warned of a storm coming, though not fully formed.

He looked up then, into the snow dropping down, and sighed. Everything that happened, was it for a reason? Was there something he was supposed to do?

"Kyrie."

She understood immediately, and certainly agreed, but it wouldn't do to just agree without saying anything more.

"It's true, maybe that isn't the right way to put it. But if you're standing out here in the cold, cursing, clearly something in particular is wrong."

"Dax is earnestly trying to restore our worlds. Our efforts at home will not be in vain. We only need to bide our time, and act when it becomes possible to do so."

Enoch shifted, letting go of the warmth trapped beneath his cloak to put a hand on Marty's shoulder. "Everything will be fine. Let despair pass, and keep your eyes open. We will find a way."

"Mr. Fusion was simply a piece of machinery Marty, it can be replaced! However I believe I may try to use an alternative energy source this time around..."

He sighed. To be honest, the Doc wasn't sure any more. He was fairly certain time travel is possible in the tower, that much makes no doubt. However would the tower allow the time machine to run, that is another question entirely.

"I do believe the time machine may work. The simulations I've run are very conclusive and obviously this world possess a Time Dimension. If anything the danger comes from what interference our host may throw in our way."

"Yeah, but how do we know that? I mean he could be lying. We'd never know." But the hand helped a bit, and he sighed, quietly gathering back his shattered feelings. "We don't know anything for sure. I dunno... this is too heavy. Nothing feels right anymore."

The description made him give a half-laugh and run a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess when you put it that way... me and the Doc were trying to do something with Mr. Fusion and we sort of exploded the Tower."

"Doc," Marty said, stopping him from going any further, "didn't you say your simulations worked with Mr. Fusion in the first place? They could be screwing around with the numbers! Who knows what they've got hidden around here?"

"Dax doesn't strike me as a liar." Enoch let out a long, quiet breath, visible in the air. "...But I know the feeling. And the best way to overcome it is to not... ...not be alone. Stay close to trusted friends, and share your troubles."

"I agree Marty, but can we stop?" he said and sighed "Time Travel may be our only hope to repair our homeworld! Maybe if the others manage to take temporary control of the tower, we could safely travel and prevent all of this from ever happening!"

"Yes there is a risk, but I cannot let a bad experience stop me now. When you fall on the ground, you don't stop walking forever because you hurt yourself Marty."

Marty thought about that for a moment, then sighed, his breath turning to fog in the chill air. "Yeah... yeah, you're right, Doc. I guess it just kinda hit me all at once."

Hurt, and feeling a little sick, he leaned against Doc for reassurance. "We'll try again."

As reluctant to admit it as he was, he finally nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes a guy just needs to be alone for a while, too, you know? But I guess there's bad times to be alone."

"When coming to decisions, when thinking on certain matters...I'll say, yes, it's best to be alone for this. But not when your heart is heavy with worry."

Enoch would rather not be alone at all. Maybe some time to himself every now and then but he wouldn't begrudge any interruptions.

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