towerofanimus | 001 - This Isn't Cool At All

Entry tags:

001 - This Isn't Cool At All

Characters: [AU2] Picky Minch and you!
Setting: Room 3-16 and around Dorm block 3, Floors 1 and 6
Format: Action brackets to start, but I'll totally match you!
Summary: Another new arrival wakes up and tries to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: None

Room 3-16 and Dorm
[It's bad enough to not wake up in your own bed, and bad enough that it's freezing. Not being able to move, even just to kick your legs and warm them up, that was really freaky-bad. Even in that short period of paralysis, Picky is starting to work himself up to quite a panicky state. So when it wears off he's up with such a start that he just about flings himself off the bed.]

Aaaagh!

[In the process of getting to his feet he finds the standard Welcome To The Tower note, reads it, and just... stares at it.]

Porky... Porky must've...

[And then it occurs to him that he might not be alone in here. This kind of looked like a dorm room. He folds the note up, wraps his bedding around himself for warmth, and hushes up while trying to take in what's around him. Maybe there's a roommate to have a chat with. Or someone in the hall that'll clue him in further.]

Floor 1, cafeteria
[Oatmeal for breakfast? Picky couldn't object too much. It was hardly his favorite, and it could really use some sugar, but it was hot and he was pretty hungry.

So hey, there's a teenager in a leather jacket, with hair in his eyes, actually kind of enjoying the standard introductory breakfast. And as he eats, he sits back and watches the other people wandering around. Maybe there'll be someone he knows. Maybe someone he can ask more questions to. And heck, some of these people are pretty weird looking. It's probably best to keep an eye out.]

Floor 6, forest
[This place was a tower, right? With lots of levels, right? Why not explore it? Why not check it out? So, pockets full of nutrition bars and head alarmingly free of clues as to the kind of trouble he could be encountering, Picky had explored his way up to the 6th floor. When he saw that it was a forest, that piqued his interest and brought him off the staircase. Sure, it was cold, but he had warm enough clothes on. Maybe there'd be something good out here? Something like...]

Oh, hey! A rabbit!

[There was one, right over there, a snowy white bunny just hopping past. And it didn't even scamper away in fright, like Picky had expected it to. Maybe the animals were friendly here?]

Hey there, Mr. Rabbit. Hey. You hungry? [Slowly approaching, Picky slipped one of the nutrition bars from his pocket and unwrapped it. And then he knelt and extended his hand, offering the end of the bar. The darned things tasted enough like sawdusty oats and spongey nothingness that maybe a rabbit would find them a worthwhile treat. Or something different than grass to nibble on.] Yeah, it's alright. C'mon, have a bite. [Maybe if it went well, he'd have a pet rabbit for himself. Could they keep pets in the dorm? He'd have to check with his roommates, he guessed.

Surely nothing will go wrong, here, and no one will need to step in to help! Or to point and laugh. It's just a rabbit, after all...]

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[Congratulations, Picky. You've got a chance to ask someone for information.

Pokey had decided to come into the cafeteria to get breakfast. Most of the food, as far as he was concerned, sucked, but it was better than nothing. And saying no to eating wasn't something Pokey did that often. He takes a quick glance around the room, more compulsory than searching for anyone in particular.

And feels his appetite drop away immediately.

His gaze locks on Picky, and it's hard to tell what he's thinking. Despite how much older Picky is then when he last saw him - when he saw Picky in Mayfield....

No. He probably shouldn't do that. The chance that this is somehow that Picky grown up is abysmally small. But it's still Picky.

He feels a rollercoaster of emotions. Shame. Guilt. Happiness. Irritation that Picky is even here. Fear of even trying to speak with him.

But he might as well. Pokey's been staring at Picky long enough that it's impossible Picky hasn't noticed him. So he clears his throat, and speaks.]

You grew up well.

[He might not have caught notice of Pokey if he hadn't stuck around so long, weighing his options. But after Picky's next casual scan of the cafeteria space, he spotted him. Big brother Porky. Only... not so big. Not so old. (Thinner, too? No, couldn't be right...)

Picky doesn't say anything. He makes pointed eye contact (as much eye contact as you can make with that much hair in your face), and then looks away to finish his oatmeal. Yeah, he sees him there. He's got nothing to say. This is all his fault, this whole mess, he knows it.

He's surprised and not surprised when Pokey approaches and speaks. The words weren't ones that he expected.]

You're looking better than the last time I saw you.

[Flat tone. No warmth. There's apprehension in his voice and his posture.]

[Oh god. Did everyone back in Onett somehow know the even bigger bastard he'd grow to become?

In most ways, that doesn't bother Pokey. Onett was still a place he had turned his back on, and was quite happy to have done so. But after having been with you for a year Picky, after having you back....he had been confronted with the fact that you were something he had never wanted to leave at all. And had out of his utter cowardice.

The fact that you know what he's supposed to be? Somehow makes it hurt even worse. But not as badly as that tone hurts.]

From what I know about me? I can imagine.

Did the coward hurt anyone?

[There's some confusion on Picky's face, now. His expression is still hard, but... something's not right, here. Something's not how he expected it to be. Is this some kind of trick? Can Porky even pull off tricks like this? It must be a trick, because this Porky seems sorry about something.]

...what?

[He sets down his bowl of oatmeal and shifts in his seat, giving his full, undivided, totally confused attention to Pokey.]

Did what coward hurt what?

[For, of course, there's only one Porky Minch. One big brother, one time-hopping tyrant, one universe-ender.]

[Let him just cover his face with his hand for a moment to try and hide him gritting his teeth and the general annoyance and anger he feels right now. You're going to make him actually ask this, aren't you Picky?

When he speaks again, his voice is a hiss, his attempts to hide his agitation failing hideously.]

Did I hurt anyone when you last saw me?

[C'mon, Pokey, it wouldn't be a conversation with your little brother if things didn't take a turn for the annoying at some point.

Now Picky seems to grasp what he's getting at. And he gives a disbelieving snort and a nod.]

Yeah. You almost killed the bunch of us. You tried to haul Lydia off into time with you. You did suck in Dr. Andonuts and a bunch of animals and stuff.

[And he turned back to his oatmeal, but kept one eye on Pokey. What would his reaction be? ...no, really, what? Gloating?]

[Pokey just keeps his hand over his mouth for a moment. And then closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair and rests it on the back of his neck. And the look that crosses his face is recognizable, but maybe not on Pokey.

It's shame.

There had been a point where he thought he'd managed to start separating himself from who he was supposed to come. Hell. Lucas had even stated faith in that he thought he could change, and for the longest time that had floored him. And for a time he was certain he wouldn't be who he was destined to be.

But hearing something like that. Hearing he had almost killed his own brother....]

I'm sorry.

I know you probably won't believe that. But I am.

[That... that isn't a Porky-like reaction at all. Since when would Porky be ashamed of something like that? Beating up on weak little nerds, wasn't that what made him happy? He only looked ashamed if he got caught at something, if mom and dad were going to punish him. This... this didn't make sense.

It had to be a trick.]

Yeah. I don't believe you.

[Back to the rest of his breakfast. He wasn't fully ignoring Pokey, but he was making a big old show of snubbing him. He was still angry, still hurt, and not willing to be tricked somehow.]

The "world has been destroyed". I think I know who did it. "I'm sorry" doesn't cut it, Porky.

[...Porky?]

[Pokey knew that would be the reaction. And hell it was the reaction he deserved wasn't it? He had no reason to be upset or angry about it.

But he was. He could feel his hands shake and ball into fists. He shoved them into his pockets, if just to hide them. To keep him from trying to strike out at something. Or someone.

His face contorts through several emotions, from out and out rage, to surprise, to a forced grin, and over and over again. Finally, he gets to a poker face, and proceeds to talk.]

It's Pokey, not Porky. ...Or maybe something else soon. I dunno yet.

But you're right. It doesn't.

I wish I could say I'm not behind this. But I guess I could be.

...There's another me here, Picky. This place is a nexus, and it seems to grab people from other dimensions along side from other worlds.

And the other me here is closer to the version you encountered.

Be careful, is what I'm trying to tell you.

Edited 2012-12-10 07:30 (UTC)

[There's discomfort on Picky's face now, easily visible behind the bangs and through the last few mouthfuls of oatmeal. Pokey, and not Porky? Another him? That was weird, and crazy, and he couldn't believe it...

...but someone had already told him about this place having people from whole different universes... And if there's the Porky he knows here, the real deal... ugh. The thought of it makes his stomach flip.

He finishes his oatmeal, drops the bowl to the table, and the spoon in the bowl.]

Okay. Okay, fine, so Pokey Minch is sorry. What makes you different? How do I know you're not trying to trick me?

....I guess you don't.

If you want me to just to away, say so. And I won't bother you while you're here.

[That's... kind of proof, in its own way, that this is a different Porky. Or Pokey. Or whatever. That he simply hasn't been told to go die in a hole somewhere for being such a horrible little brother, or something. But can he even trust a different version of his brother?

He looks torn. Really torn.]

I dunno. I...

[He groans and passes a hand through his (kinda cool) hair.]

Let me think about it, okay? This place is weird, and that letter was weird, and you are really weird and... I don't know, okay?

Don't...

[Okay. Now Pokey is somewhat annoyed. He was hoping Picky would give him the easy option. Would just tell him to leave him alone and while it would hurt Pokey wouldn't be obliged to feel any other emotional attachment. He isn't even his Picky. But he can't help it, not when he looks so much like his brother.

He grits his teeth, trying not to frown too hard.]

Look. Don't worry about this but...be careful in this tower. It's dangerous. Maybe even a lot worse than anything I could do.

Geez. Even if you've gotten older you're still a stupid nerd.

I'll be careful. I'll...

[He spoke without even thinking about it. Of course he'd be careful, that's what you said to someone saying 'be careful', even if it was someone that didn't make sense...]

Hey! I am not a stupid nerd!

[He continued to speak without giving it any thought. And to act without thought, too. Picky rose from his seat, fists balled, looming over his 'big' brother. It was exactly how he'd have reacted at the age of 7 to Porky's teasing and insults.

It's a lot less adorable and dismissible from an 18 year old.]

[It's odd. Pokey can recognize it so much as part of their routine, but seeing it now...he can't help but feel threatened by it. Hurt by it. The idea of being "hit" when it was his little brother at 7 and being hit by said brother at 18...it definitely has different connotations.

Still, he just turns his head. And looks at the ground.]

Go on. Do it.

[Picky hadn't recognized it as part of the old sibling script. Not until the words were shouted and the threat was made. Not until Pokey didn't give the expected reply. Horror passes across his face, and his fists immediately unclench.]

I...

[What was he doing?! Was he seriously going to take a swing at some kid younger and shorter than him? He jolts back, tipping his chair over, his horrified expression giving way to clenched teeth.]

Just get out of here!

[He's still mad. Hell, he's got twelve years of mad that never quite made it out of his system.]

[Pokey just stands there, staring still. Before nodding his head slightly.

He felt like he should say something. One last parting thing, maybe even a parting shot. But he lets it drop. Lets it fall away entirely as he walks away out of the cafeteria.

He doesn't know why his eyes are so wet, but he blinks the wetness away as he heads back to his dorm room.]

[That was it? That... that was way too easy. It couldn't be right. And there was a part of him that wanted to take it back, maybe shout after him, tell him he didn't mean it... but a very small part. The rest of him could barely think through all the confusion and unfamiliarity and anger.

Before Pokey was even out of sight, he turned away to pick up his chair. Then doubled back for his oatmeal bowl, but changed his mind and stormed off. Whatever. He'd be leaving, too. People probably saw that. People were probably staring.

Not like he could say much to anyone else, anyway, with this big lump in his throat.]

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001 - This Isn't Cool At All

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