revivalproject | From the sewers to a space ship

WHO: Eddie Kaspbrak and YOU
WHERE: Bishop, then open
WHAT: OMFG WHERE THE FUCK AM I?!
WHEN: Now? When the fuck is now even?
WARNINGS: Language, mostly. Possible canon talk

Bishop

There's a man in one of the bunks who was absolutely not there before. He looks (and smells) like he just rolled out of the sewers. His jeans, t-shirt and hoodie are covered in an array of multicolored substances. His left cheek is bandaged in a very soiled gauze patch. Needless to say... He looks worse for wear.

He sits bolt upright with a terrified gasp. "Richie!" His eyes wide with fright, he looks around. "Whaaaaat the fuck?" Inexplicably, he knows where he is and what he's doing there, but that doesn't make him feel any better. He was in the cavern, saving Richie and something... Something was wrong. He makes a face as he reached back to scratch a weird itch in the middle of his back. Alright. He's not going to get any answers sitting in bed.

He gets up and moves to the door, peeking out. It's going to take him a while to find the way out of the ship, especially considering the tightness in his chest. He wasn't claustrophobic usually, but he had to get some air. He can be found wandering aimlessly around the ship, looking confused and slightly panicked.

Outside the ship

When he finally stumbles outside, he takes a few deep breaths. "Ohthankfuck." Leaning forward, he braces his hands on his legs and tries to get his breathing back to normal. Once he feels sufficiently calm, he takes a deep breath and straightens.

Then he sees his first alien and that goes out the fucking window. Hello Coruscant. There's a human in the space port alternating between screaming in terror and laughing awkwardly as he tries to figure out if he's really hallucinating and having an anneurism at the same time.

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Eddie shakes his head. "Worse. It's not just a killer clown. It could, like, turn itself into whatever you were afraid of."

Chuckling, he smiles and nods. "God those things smelled like ass." Following Kyle, he looks around, "Have you figured out which of these places sell what?"

"It can turn into my crippling anxiety over being a disappointment to my parents? That IS impressive."

He snickers. "Kinda, yeah. There's like, a market type thing over this way so you can see most of what they're selling. And a lot of them seem to speak English.

"So, sorry, where are you from? Besides Earth, heh."

That gets a snort, "Hey, man, you never know. I saw a disgusting leper and there was this whole thing in a fucking creepy-ass basement where I couldn't save my mom from it. None of it was fucking real, but I gotta tell you, it felt real."

He trusts that this kid knows where he's going, so he's just going to follow and try to get the thought of that leper out of his head.

"Huh? Oh. New York. And Maine, I guess."

"A leper? Sick, dude!" Kyle might have a bit of a thing about getting sick. No doubt Eddie would understand.

Kyle nods. "You have a bit of an East Coast accent thing. Not strong, just like, a little." He leads Eddie toward the market, which is bustling. Many of the patrons and sellers are humanoid, but a good number of them are not. Kyle doesn't seem particularly bothered, and stops at a stall that is selling SOME sort of clothing anyway. It all looks a bit vaguely middle eastern.

"Right?! That thing was fucking terrifying! I saw it again earlier today and it puked up all this nasty black goo all over me. I thought I was gonna hurl."

He has one of those full body shudders that starts at the shoulders and just goes all the way down. Ugh! Everything had gone downhill from there.

He follows, stopping to look through some of the clothes at the stall Kyle found. "Soanyway what about you? Where are you from?"

"Dude!" Kyle sounds truly disgusted. "Black goo?! Ugh! Probably his nasty ass rotting insides!" He grimaces.

The clothes are very drapey, but it does look like there are pants. No jeans, though. "Oh, the ass-end of Colorado," he replies. "Tiny little redneck mountain town. Real boring." This last statement is a blatant lie.

"So this is pretty different. Jeez, I hope a lot of these aliens speak English..." Kyle turns to try and communicate with the vendor, asking where he might be able to find something like jeans.

Eddie cringes and shudders again, "Yeah no kidding, right? It's fucking horrifying"

He pokes around, feeling some of the fabrics. "Oh god. I mean, some of it isn't bad, but it's pretty weird."

"Dude, feel that shiny stuff, no lie it feels like tinfoil," Kyle says before turning back to the vendor, who seems to speak a little English. Mostly he and Kyle are miming, though.

"Okay," Kyle says to Eddie. "I think he's saying that dude over there sells jeans. Well, something like them, anyway. Unless you want a whole new Prince of Space look."

Curious, he reaches out and touches the one Kyle indicates. Wincing, he laughs. "Holy fuck it does. How can anyone wear this shit?" He says as someone walks by wearing pants made of that exact material. Fuck...

He turns, trying not to make a spectacle of himself. "Yeah, uh, something at least close to something we wear on Earth would be nice. Really not digging the space stuff."

"Me neither, although some of the robes look cool." He heads down a few stalls, grinning when he finds what sure looks like actual trousers. Some digging reveals something close to denim, although it's definitely not skinny jeans or anything.

"I'm gonna buy a robe. I always kinda wanted one, just so I could feel like an elf or something."

Dude, he's 40. He's definitely too old for skinny jeans. He's grateful to find something close to pants he's used to, though. He starts digging through, himself, trying to make sense of the sizes.

"For real? Dude, I haven't wanted one since the 80's when Bill tried to get us to play D&D."

The sizes really don't seem to be marked anywhere.

Kyle blushes. "...I like D&D," he admits. "It's honestly fun, you should have tried it with your friend."

Well that's just horribly inconvenient.

He winces slightly, feeling like a heel. Turning, he gave Kyle a smirk, "It was the 80s, are you kidding me? My Mom was convinced I'd start worshiping Satan or sacrificing babies or something."

"That did seem to be a weird obsession you guys had back then," Kyle concedes. "Was your mom super religious, or what?"

He makes a face, rubbing the back of his head. "Not religious, no. But she was crazy protective. It was... Really bad, actually. She used to say I was sick to make me stay home."

"I'm sorry," Kyle says with genuine sympathy. "My mom is real protective, too. Not quite that bad, but it could be pretty intense.

"Is she still around?"

He gives Kyle a shrug and a tight-lipped smile. "I forgot how bad it used to be until recently, actually. So that's something, I guess."

He shakes his head at the question. "No. She, uh, she died a while ago." Wow, that's a downer. He scoffs a laugh, "Hey, though I guess that means our moms can't exchange notes on hwo to fuck with us, right?" Awkward joke is awkward. Richie is the funny one, okay.

"How did you forget?" Kyle asked with a confused frown. That seems like the sort of thing a person is liable to remember.

"Oh, dude, I'm sorry." As a total momma's boy, he means the condolence. Still, he smiles at Eddie's weak attempt at humour. "Heh, yeah. They could have had a Guilt Trip Olympics."

"I think it had something to do with Pennywise... that clown. Once you leave town you kind of forget all about everything."

He gives Kyle a thankful smile. He appreciates it. "As dumb as it sounds, it's kind of nice to know that I'm not the only one who had a fucked up protective Mom."

"Huh." Kyle thinks about that. "Yeah. They say some people repress bad memories, maybe the clown just somehow triggers that process, I dunno."

He grins back. "Yeah. It really is."

"I don't fucking know, man. I haven't really had time to think about it. All this shit kind of just came back to me in the past day."

Yeah... it's just been a day. Fuck this noise.

From the sewers to a space ship

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Cw: emeto

Cw: emeto, general grossness

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