Welcome to where time stands still

[the_freak]

Who:Eddie Munson, OTA
What: Playing music and games
Where: Temba, Outdoors and in the Diner
When: Early to Mid June
Warnings: TBD



Go Play Outside

The weather was nicer and drier and Eddie didn't have a creepy tail anymore, so rather than being hunched over a table in the diner he's outside in the fresh air. Sort of. It's smoke-y air. And he's in the shade. And not really doing anything super physical. But it still counts, all right?

Sitting cross legged with his acoustic on his lap, Eddie's cigarette was burned down dangerously close to his lip, forgotten as he jotted down his revisions in his note book. He cursed, taking a final draw and stubbing the thing out, dropping the notebook so he could try the new lyrics out.

Go Play Inside

D&D meanwhile wasn't easy to play outside. Papers would blow away, the ground was too uneven for dice rolls. He'd tried it. It never worked.

Players were also at an all time low, and without them it was just Eddie telling a long and complicated story to no one. So he opted to try and up interest in a way he was intimately familiar with- making an ass of himself.

He climbed up on top of his table (a little more wobblily than the ones in the cafeteria, shit), and gestured wildly at the few heroes just trying to eat in peace.

"Who among you has what it takes to be an adventurer!? The guts? The passion??...Seriously, anyone? I'm actually asking here?"

Comments

Inside

[thepurpleone]

The steady increase of heat was not promising, and given the only summer Donnie had experienced previously had a volcano attached to it, he is not at all looking forward to a repeat while anxiously keeping track of the massive rock formation in the distance. Maybe he should have asked Sonic to plant a seismic transponder while he and Robotnik had gone out there...

One would think that wearing extra layers when the weather was warm a deplorable choice, but Donnie was sure his skin would absolutely fry if he didn't have something over it, or at least it had felt that way the previous summer. So it is that one fully-clothed turtle teen steps into the diner, seeking some foodstuffs to pillage. He's got a light hoodie on and some space-jeans, on the account that they were bought from a spaceport. He's even got sneakers on, and of course, everything save for the jeans which are a tasteful shade off black, are in violet tones.

"...." He blinks at the shouting and the guy standing atop a table. "People eat there?" he can't help but point out, because, gross. "It's too hot to be adventuring, and personally I'd like to keep my guts from evaporating out of my ears."

[the_freak]

That is...a turtle. Eddie has seen the turtles around, but he hasn't really talked to them before now, and his eyes flick briefly in an up-down motion, accepting the reality of it fairly quickly.

"Yeah, I do," he agrees, looking down at the table. Hell, he's being a lot more considerate than he would be back home, he could be parading across all the tables. "Aren't turtles cold blooded? Shouldn't you like the heat?" he wonders/encourages, "And what better way to distract yourself?"

[thepurpleone]

"Have you experienced this heat? It is terrible. New York is at least humid in the summer but out there it feels like every bit of moisture's being sapped from you." Donnie sighs. "I am an apalone spinifera- a spiny soft-shelled turtle, and my brother is a Trachemys scripta elegans or red-eared slider, so we're partial to things being on the wetter side. I knew I should've put priority on setting up a pool..." It is going to be another miserable summer at this rate.

"I'd prefer to 'distract myself' under such circumstances by some gaming, preferably inside where temperatures are least likely to cook me."

[the_freak]

"It's pretty shitty," he agrees, arching a brow then at those proper naming conventions which mean absolutely nothing to him. Turtles...like he said. "You know there's one at the community centre," Eddie notes, "Unless you need like a special...turtle pool."

He then gestures emphatically to his feet and the table where the collection of dice and paper sit. "That's what I'm saying, Dude."

[thepurpleone]

"-wait, like functional and not empty?" Donnie blinks, this apparently news to him. Why has no one informed him of a usable pool??

His attention is then sufficiently drawn to the detritus at the human's feet, the turtle drawing closer towards the table to have a better look.

"...oh. You meant like. Fictional adventuring as opposed to actual outdoor expedition-adventuring."

Outside;

[sinistral]

Eddie wasn't the only one out on the fresh air. The weather was warm but not too warm, decent for outdoor exercise. For the Soldier that meant what he called a run and what anyone else would call advanced parkour. He picked a point A, decided on a point B, and committed to as straight a line between the two as possible. If that meant climbing a building or leaping and obstacle, well, it was a workout.

He was nearing his endpoint when he heard the music: stopping and starting again, just a guitar and a voice, like someone practicing or maybe trying something out. He noted the general direction, keeping it in mind for his return trip.

On the return trip he adjusts his route to pass by the musician: a ten with a guitar, someone he'd seen around but didn't formally know. Looked like the guy had just finished whatever he was working on, judging by the notebook next to him.

"Not bad," he said, pausing his run. From the Soldier, it was a pretty good compliment.

[the_freak]

The Soldier was someone Eddie had likewise only ever seen in passing or heard whispers about, and there was a momentary look of surprise to see this was who his compliment comes from. Eddie doesn't play at bashful, he grins and looks pleased with himself.

"Yeah? You hear much of it?" he asked, not sure how long he's had an audience for without knowing.

[sinistral]

He shook his head at the question.

"Just a few minutes. Heard you while I was running." An activity probably made obvious from the way he looked a little sweaty, hair tied up off his neck and dressed in clothes more approaches to exercise than straight combat.

[the_freak]

"Right, I see you sometimes. You're scary fast." Though the guy only looks a little sweaty after all that. Eddie would've been soaked through. Or dead. Skipped far too many PE classes and smoked far too many cigarettes for any sort of endurance.

"You play? Or just an appreciator of the fine arts?" he asked with a laugh, fishing out another cigarette and turning the pack towards the other man in question.

[sinistral]

"Do you mean scary, or fast?" Either would probably apply. The Soldier knew he could be both.

"Appreciation, I guess. I could never play with this," he waved the metal hand. Just glancing at the guitar strings told him he'd do nothing more than ruin them with his fingers, even if he did know how to play.

He shook his head at the offer of the cigarette. "It's wasted on my metabolism. You'd just be throwing it away."

Inside!

[target_audience]

Peace was not Stu's ideal situation, so this was a welcome change to his slightly awkward shuffling around to get his bearings. If other people weren't here, he'd be more free to move around and figure this place out, or so he thought. He had lined up at the counter like he had seen others do instead, trying to learn the blocking, taken at least one of every weird alien food that he could see, and forgot to be worried about reading the room when his plate became stacked precariously high. He hadn't even decided where to sit yet, balancing the plate carefully, when this older guy (or was that just his haircut?) started jumping on the furniture. That was more like it.

Some of the food spilled across the table as Stu dropped his plate there, and himself into the nearest seat. Immediately, he was leaning forward where he could brace on one elbow, and grab the climber around the ankle to give a reckless tug as he greeted, "I didn't think we had a choice, man, is this where we can back out? Because I haven't even seen one little grey dude."

!

[the_freak]

As much as Eddie craved someone to 'yes, and' his performances, he was taken aback when it finally actually happened. He blinked in surprise at the new face, grin spreading a little uncertainly, arms adjusting to keep himself from overbalancing with the tug.

"Less backing out and more entertaining distraction?" he offered, stepping forward to drop off the table and use it as a seat instead now that he had captured someone's attention. "And these guys are actually sort of a pinky-purply colour," he added, gesturing to his shirt and the hellfire version of the agrii he sported on them.

[target_audience]

"Distraction?" Stu echoed, confused with a raised lip. There didn't seem to be much here that he needed distracting from, it was all very distracting and it was more like he was experiencing decision paralysis. Or leadership. Billy wasn't so enthusiastic about the sci-fi immersion. "You're captain of the fan club," Stu pointed out, acknowledging the shirt, "and you think we need distracting?"

[the_freak]

"We're in a lull period," Eddie acknowledged, "Give it a bit, you'll be clamoring for distraction. You arrived just too late to be some kind of mermaid thing. And before that we were out in space. Different space. Sometimes it's nice just to pretend for a bit, you know? Forget we're all trapped here?"

[target_audience]

While Stu was clearly trying very hard to listen and nod along, the argument was not convincing in the least, and this guy was maybe crazy or crazy-boring. Hands out flat on the table, Stu declared, "But that's awesome. What do you mean, I missed the awesome shit? I've just been hanging out in this big empty city, thinking the bugs and broken shit was cool, all I get is stabbed, but I could have been the little mermaid? Where are they, are they hot?"

Inside

[doubled_speed]

"I'm going to need to get a sturdier table in here, aren't I, rockstar?"

Tommy grins as he comes and delivers a tray of food to a safer part of Eddie's table.

[the_freak]

"It's fine," Eddie insists, even as it gives an appropriately timed wobble that he still with only mild panic. See totally fine.

"That or you could just install a stage for me and my speeches and keep your furniture boot free."

[doubled_speed]

Tommy's hands come up, almost as if to catch the man. But hey, Eddie finds his balance so he just lowers his hands again.

"I'm not installing a stage. So yeah, going to need a better table. But you get to clean this one for walking on it."

[the_freak]

Eddie looks down at him like he's debating challenging that, but ultimately he hops down. "Spoilsport," he accuses.

[doubled_speed]

"No one is going to want to eat on a table you were standing on, man," Tommy points out with a smile. "You can walk on it all you want, if you clean it after."

Outside

[work_wife]

"Hey."

Robin flops down beside the guy, and of course she's trying to peek at the notebook.

"Working on a love letter?"

[the_freak]

Eddie swats at her, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't actually mind, letting her peek to her hearts content.

"Something like that," he agrees, "It's a song." A song he's weirdly cagey about for Eddie, not immediately trying to get her to listen to it or anything.

[work_wife]

Oh no, that's adorable. Holy fuck.

"You're writing Steve a love song? That's pretty pop of you."

[the_freak]

"It's not a love song," he grumbles, cheeks pink, and his eyes roll harder. "It's...a ballad. It's totally different."

[work_wife]

"It's totally a love song," Robin counters with a grin. "It's not different. You're in looooooove. WIth my best dingus. Wait, does that make you a potential future dingus-in-law?"