revivalproject | From the sewers to a space ship

Entry tags:

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.

Wildcard
[Have other ideas? HMU! I'm at

eternalferret or Discord SupahFerret#0368]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Eddie makes a face. Richie says that as if most of the Losers weren't extroverts in their own way. Of course, he definitely was the loudest and most in-your-face about it. It was good to see Richie happy and acting like himself, though. That gave him hope that this might not be so bad.

He snorts, "Yeah, you say that now. Next thing I know you're gonna be daring me to get one." He could already see the dare wars beginning. Shooting Richie a smirk, he jerked his head in a direction generally away from the shop. "Go on, asshole. Just don't get kidnapped and end up some alien slave or something."

"Hey, some of those slaves are wearing metal bikinis. Don't lie, you're just dying to see me parade around in one. I know you, Eds..."

He winks at the guy and cackles as he rushes off to go on his errand. It's the best thing he can do to stop his heart from beating out of his fucking chest at the thought that he was joke-flirting with Eddie. Eddie! If he tried to do it again he'd probably vomit all over the floor and wouldn't that just be irresistible to all the men here?

"Oh my God, Richie," he complained to himself. "Are we ever gonna stop being twelve?"

Eddie shouted after him, "Yeah, your mom, maybe!" Turning back to the shop, he found a few aliens giving him weird looks. Fuck. He gave them a sheepish smile. "No, no. Not really. I... Oh fuck it."

Sighing, he heads into the shop to find some clothes.

It takes him a little bit to find stuff that isn't too weird, but eventually he's standing outside with a bag, looking for his wayward friend.

Richie comes back with a grin and a few new items in his hands. "Dude!" He was all but jogging which wasn't easy for a man of his age and health habits. Still, just seeing Eddie was enough to put some pep in his step. Even with some time passing, Richie can still remember the bone-deep grief he'd wallowed in after Eddie's death. And now that was over.

As long as that cheek didn't fester.

"Dude, there is this big like... I don't know. Temple thing. Everyone in there is all magic and Matilda-y. It's fucking cool. And they gave me stuff for your face that will make it all better."

Eddie's eyebrows raise at the jogging. No, really. Richie is jogging. Is hell frozen? Granted, they're on an alien planet so who the fuck knows.

"Everyone is what?" He shakes his head, "Okay, cool. It's not going to do anything weird, is it? Also I still need to wash this shit off my... uh... everything." He gestures to himself. "Any idea where I can do that?"

"Yeah, man. Don't worry. There's a hotel place that I think is just over that way. Rent a room, grab a shower, boom. You're no longer a creature from the bleck lagoon," he says with an exaggerated little grin. Silently asking Eddie to both understand the joke and to laugh at it.

"C'mon. Let's go." He starts to lead the way while also peering at what Eddie got for himself. "Okay, spill. Did they have your particular style of polos here? A nice sweater vest, maybe?"

Eddie shorts, shooting Richie a smile. "Yeah, you won't see me in another lagoon any time soon." It really is nice to joke around with Richie like everything's normal.

He follows, rolling his eyes at the question. "No, asshole. Seriously, though, a lot of the shit in there was really fucking weird! It took me a while to find something I could actually wear. They look like that should be comfortable, though."

Even with him covered in sewage, Richie is desperate to have contact with Eddie. The guy's back from the fucking grave and seeing him smile and tease back is like balm on gaping wound. He'll never get enough.

"I can't wait for the fashion show. Do you think you can make Bev proud?"

"Oh maaaaan." Eddie shook his head, grinning at the thought of the fairest of all the Losers. "Could you imagine Bev here? She'd lose her fucking mind over some of the clothes. Fuck, I think everyone'd find something to like about this place. Hey, maybe there's a comedy club. You could steal some alien jokes." He gently shoved Richie's shoulder with a laugh.

Richie shoved Eddie right back and beamed at him. "Fuck that, man. I don't need to steal jokes anymore. I don't know why I was doing that in the first place. Nah, I am going to go back to talking about what I know:

"Your mom."

Eddie didn't even care that the aliens were looking at them with disdain as they fucked around like stupid teenagers in the street. He pointed a finger at Richie, "Fuck you, dude."

Tilting his head, he shrugged, "I mean, it's like I was telling your sister the other night..." He trailed off, giving Richie a pointed look. Two could play that game.

"Ooooh! Fuck you, man. My sister has better taste than that." He swung an arm around Eddie's neck and yanked him in, other hand giving him a noogie. Of course the whole time he was laughing, tickled by this familiar fight.

"Besides, you wouldn't know what to do with her. That girl would destroy you and that's no way to lose your virginity."

"Hey!" Eddie flailed, nearly dropping his bag as he tried to extract himself from Richie's grip. "Shut the fuck up, asshole. Besides, if I wanted to be destroyed I'd just fuck your mom again."

"Get your own material, leech."

The hotel is close and Richie grabs Eddie's elbow to unnecessarily guide him the rest of the short distance. "And, really, you're in like. A fucking glass house right now when it comes to fucking mothers. I got to see Myra, dude. That is like...Freud's whole dissertation in one relationship. I'll let you blame the clown for that but...seriously. Glass house. Crystal glass house. Shouldn't even kick up some gravel in there..."

"Pot, kettle?"

Eddie nudges Richie. It's a little weird for Richie to be holding his arm, but he's not going to stop him. It's just good to have him close by.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off talking about Myra. I'm guessing my marriage doesn't even matter any more."

Richie snorts loudly. "Okay. I set you up for that one but still. Touché."

At the mention of Myra, Richie's good mood fades though. He's only about a month past Eddie's death and the meeting with his widow is something that came to him often. Richie is quiet as they get into the hotel and move toward the lift that will bring them to their room. Only on the lift does he speak.

"She. Uh. Yeah, no. She was pretty pissed at all of us and you for kicking it. Back home you're legally dead so the marriage is pretty dead alongside it. Yay?"

Thank you, thank you. He'll be here all night.

Well that definitely brought things down. Eddie swallows, silent for a moment as that sinks in. "So you, uh... met her... I guess... I guess it's good that you guys told her." He clears his throat. Right. That's that, then. "But yeah, I guess you're right. There's no point in thinking about that any more."

As always, Richie sees 'the line' after it's well behind him and the option to not cross it is laughably impossible. His smile fades alongside Eddie's and he is silent the rest of the lift ride, mind spinning on how to fix what he's broken.

"I mean. She...uh. She seemed... Uh. She seemed to care about you a lot. So that was nice."

He walks toward the room and pushes it open, still shifting awkwardly as though the current mood was some physical ailment of his.

"But hey! Bachelor again, right? Time to go and party! Sow those wild seeds! I assume they're organic and non-GMO."

Yeah... This is awkward. Like. Really awkward. Why is it so awkward? Eddie spends much of the ride trying to figure out why he feels so weird talking about this with Richie.

He elects to let the comment about her caring about him slip on by. Instead, he smirks and shakes his head at Richie as he follows him into the room. "Richie... At what point in my life could you imagine my 'seeds' ever being 'wild'?"

Richie bursts out laughing because, yeah. Touche. "Means you gotta catch up, right?" In the room Richie flops onto a bed and kicks his shoes off. He's forty, after all. Nap time sounds like a good plan while Eddie showers.

"Okay. Get that filth off. Once you're all squeaky clean I got some shit for your face that I can put on and fix you up with. Hopefully you keep that mark as a scar though. Get all the chicks."

Oooohhhh fuck, man, a nap sounds so fucking good. But first, a shower. He gives that bed a slightly wishful look before nodding. "Yeah, sure. Because a scar will magically make me more attractive to anyone." He snorts before heading into the shower. Seriously, he never understood that. All a scar meant was you were hurt and healed. How did that make someone more attractive?

It certainly gave him something to think about as he tried to figure out how to work the shower. Eventually he figured it out and was able to blessedly wash all of the sewer crap and blood. His face stung like a bitch but he was clean damnit!

Clean, dry, and dressed in dark gray pants and lighter gray tunic, he stepped back into the room. There was a belt, vest, and boots to go along with the outfit but he tossed those on a chair to be dealt with later. "Fuck it's good to be clean again."

Eddie all cleaned up and dressed in that dark grey outfit is doing things to Richie. He sits up as the door opens and isn't quite sure he's hiding the way his mouth goes slack into a small 'o' and his eyes widen. When Eddie had been covered in gunk it had been easier to compartmentalize the guy he'd been terrified and protective of in the sewers with the guy who he'd been teasing and desperate for the attention of, before that. Now, the distinction is gone.

It takes a moment to coach his face into something other than 'stunned adoration' and even then he's probably looking a little too stricken to be normal. Time to excuse it with a joke.

"Holy shit. Man. All that crap around here was just your face. That sucks. Maybe someone here can just. You know. Fix all that ugliness."

He smiles and winks at Eddie to offset his irritation at being teased and pats the bed.

"Okay. My turn to be doctor. Sit on down, Dr. K. Dr. T is going to patch that cheek right up. I promise to not even stitch my initials on it. Where people can see, anyway."

What's with the face, trashmouth? Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion.

Confusion which is then knocked askew by jackassery. He rolls his eyes, making a face as he walks over. "You're one to talk, asshole. You could rent your forehead for advertising."

Sitting next to Richie, he gives him a side-eyed look. For all his bluster, he trusts Richie to take care of him and not fuck it up.

Richie smiles as Eddie sits down. It's impossible for it to not be fond. Eddie is just too...Eddie. It made no sense and yet all the sense and Richie would never be immune to it.

"C'mere, oh Hole-y one."

He takes out some antiseptic wipes and gently starts cleaning the wound up. His attention is more focused than it probably had ever been in his life. It's the only way he can ignore the feel of Eddie so close to him. The fact that he's holding his face and close enough to just...

Okay. No more of that train of thought.

"You sure you wanna close this up? Imagine how cool it would be to smoke through your cheek or whatever...."

"Oh ha. Ha." The laugh is sarcastic but he can't help but smile. Richie being here and being, well, himself, is more of a balm than whatever is being wiped on his face. Of all of the Losers, he always counted Richie as his best friend. They'd been together through thick and thin. He'd always been the closest to this asshole. He never really knew why, nor did he ever try to figure it out. It just was.

"Dude, do you have any idea how fucking disgusting that idea is? Even ignoring the fact that I don't and would never smoke." Aside from being pressured into trying one of Bev's cigarettes once... He'd nearly coughed himself unconscious that time. "It would get all yellow and black from the tar and other toxic shit in those things. Not to mention that food and shit would just fall out of it all the time. God I feel nauseous just thinking about it."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject