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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"A nice alien wouldn't want to marry me either. They would probably want to eat my tender human liver as a delicacy. But as long as there is a ball pit and burgers, I guess I will consider it a good run."

Richie still has his arm around Eddie's neck. He needs to move off. Eventually. Yeah, definitely soon. Maybe.

"You just want me to get a divorce so you're not the only one anymore. Admit it."

"Yeeaah, probably. Human liver with a side of fries?"

He hasn't made any move to extract himself from Richie's grasp. They used to be close like this all the time as kids, so it doesn't feel weird. Not to mention that it's just nice to be close to someone and actually enjoying himself. Is that weird? Fuck he hopes not.

He rolls his eyes. "Oh come on. How would that make a difference? I'm not divorced. I'm... like... a reverse widower or something."

"A reverse widower? What the fuck does that mean? Seriously dude, I think that going with 'divorced' is probably easier than 'Marriage got annulled because I am technically dead in the universe where I am married'. Unless you wanna get into that story every single time."

The lift lands and Richie pulls Eddie out and toward the door. Going out drinking when things are still so new and raw is probably a bad idea but he's going to do it anyway.

"Honestly, it might get you a free drink or two. Maybe you should trot it out."

He nods, "Yeah, you've got a point. Divorced, it is. I really don't want to go into my being dead every time it comes up. That's weird enough."

He lets Richie drag him along. Fuck, it really is just like when they were kids. He still wasn't sure about drinking, especially considering that he had no way of knowing what sort of ingredients they used. What if he was allergic to something. What if they had something that was close enough to a cashew and he went into anaphylactic shock and died?!

"I don't know about that... hey, lets at leas find a place that understands English. I, uh, gotta make sure I know what's in whatever we're drinking."

Richie rolls his eyes almost out of his head.

"Oh come on. Are you back to thinking you're so gentle you can't even look at a nut without breaking into hives? You probably outgrew half of your allergies at this point and the other half were probably just made up."

Eddie's mom was a trip and Myra didn't seem much better. With Eddie not remembering half of his life, who knew how far he'd slid backward in his growth. The idea of that--and someone else taking advantage of it--made Richie almost murderous. Luckily he probably won't be seeing any of the people he so hated ever again. Unless they showed up here. Fucking God forbid.

Off on the side is what looks like a cantina or something. It has music so that is probably a good sign. He moves them toward it.

"Live dangerously. I won't let anything happen to you. Well. Nothing too dangerous, anyway..."

"Gentle?" He gives Richie a look, "It's not gentle to not want to die when I eat something, asshole."

But... he had a point. He sighed, thinking back on his past. His mom and Myra had really been the driving force behind all of his medical history. They always treated him with such care, no matter what he said. Maybe... a memory flashed through his mind 'They're gazebos! They're bullshit!'

"Maybe..." He frowned, debating for another moment. "I'm holding your ass responsible if anything fucking happens."

"Gentle like a delicate little flower, resting on a peach."

Richie bumps Eddie's shoulder and drags him off and into the cantina so they can get some alcohol into them both and forget about whatever the fuck it was that brought them here. And, hell, if they could forget some of the shit that happened before too, he would be thrilled by that. But that was probably not gonna be in the cards for awhile.

"Dude. You say that as though I wouldn't hold myself responsible," he says a bit too seriously. And, yeah. Back to that 'not being able to forget what happened before' shit, huh? Hunch proven correct. Or at least need for alcohol levels to increase proven, perhaps.

Even now he can almost remember the limp body of the other man in his arms, slowly getting cold. Alone.

"Nothing is gonna happen to you, okay? We aren't here long enough for me to get the necessary alcohol for that level of guilt so, ergo, you'll be fine."

"Oh for fuck's sake, asshole." Eddie laughs. He's not a fucking delicate fucking flower, dickwad.

But he lets Richie drag him into the alien cantina (... dude that guy looks like a giant bug). Hopefully there's a free booth because he's not sure if he can handle the bar right now.

Right... this conversation is getting weird. And he's really not sure what to make of it soooooooo hey he was changing the subject the other day. "Hey, tell me about that weird temple thing you found."

Richie sidles up to the bar and immediately orders two drinks of whatever is good. The bartender is like a preying mantis that prayed real hard to be a real boy but was light on the details of what a 'real boy' was. He tries not to look at it too closely and instead pulls out one of the cigarettes he'd gotten much earlier, searching around for a light.

"It was pretty cool. I met this guy, Beej. I think his name was OB Juan, or something like that. He could do that whole mind magic shit that the Gremlin can do, too. Sort of seems like he might be in a cult, though. Whole temple kinda seemed cult-y. But a rich cult like Scientology, not Jonestown."

Eddie sputters at the drink order. "Dude! You don't even know what the fuck is in that!" Seriously! You could at least try to care.

The cigarette gets an eyebrow raise. "Since when do you smoke? Do you have any idea what shit ends up in those things?" seriously, dude. Ew.

His eyebrows raise even higher at the 'gremlin' comment. "Uhhh. Okay. Uh. Yeah, I met Kenobi when I got here. He did some magic shit to calm me down cause I was freaking the fuck out." He pauses, "Gremlin? Like... Seriously?"

From the sewers to a space ship

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