revivalproject | So much for a normal life...

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So much for a normal life...

WHO: Eddie and you!
WHERE: Various places
WHAT: Shenanigans!
WHEN: early May
WARNINGS: Grossness. Acid snot is disgusting, man.

My Car!

Eddie sighs as he gets out of his rental car. He looks up and down the street. Hopefully he's finally found a decent place to park and he'll make it one day without losing a vehicle.

He pulls his bag out of the back seat, slinging it over his shoulder as he starts toward his office building. At that moment, a piece of the building next to him is broken off by some superhero fight or another. It plummets to the street and, you guessed it, crushes his car. He turns, eyes wide. "Oh come on!"

Achoo cw: mucus

Determined to keep the day from being a total loss, Eddie takes himself out to lunch. He finds a nice little sidewalk cafe and settles with his newspaper. He shakes his head as he reads over the latest headlines. Alien invasions and giant cats. "What the hell is this city coming to?"

A strong breeze rustles the pages. Unfortunately, it also rustles the nearby tree, shaking loose pollen and who knows what else. Eddie feels a tingling in his nose and gasps. "Oh no. Ooooh no." He claps his hand over his nose and mouth, panicking. No, no, no. He can't hold it in. Turning, he prays no one is walking by as he sneezes. The spray sizzles as it hits the plants and pavement and anything else in its path, acid burning through everything it touches.

"Uuuuhhhhhh. Check please?"

Wildcard.

[Want to do anything with Eds before he turns to the dark side? Now is the time! If you want to plot hit me up at

eternalferret or Discord at SupahFerret#0368]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Richie is still recovering from his time at the bank with the armed robber when he passes what looks like the end of a battle above him. For the millionth time he thanks his lucky stars that he wasn't gifted with the ability to fly. Everything up there looks dangerous and complicated and Richie can't be bothered. He keeps walking up until there is the familiar sound of a building cracking. After that he is just able to watch as the piece of glass and metal plummets down and into a car.

Into the car of...well. A really hot guy. With a goatee. And, apparently, a bad day that just got worse.

Richie waits about a moment, wondering if he should just keep walking before he figures he might as well and crosses over to the poor guy and his mangled car. Under his arm, he pulls out his notepad so he can not immediately put the guy to sleep asking if he is okay. Instead he writes:

Hey! Are you okay? Other than the compact car, I mean?

And holds it out.

Eddie looks up towards where the debris had fallen from. He can see lightning and smoke coming from the rooftop. Great. Another super fight. Ugh.

He doesn't notice the guy until the notebook is held towards him. He starts a little, initially suspicious of people trying to hand him things out of nowhere. Oh. It's a normal looking dude. Yeah, okay. He raises an eyebrow, looking at the notebook. ... Compact car. Okay, he can't help but smirk and shake his head at that one.

"Would you believe me if I said that was my fourth car this week?"

By his open-mouthed look of surprise, no. No, he can't believe that it's his fourth car of the week. Richie pulls his notebook back and writes underneath the last bit:

Is that your really messed up super power? The ability to make your insurance jump tall buildings in a single bound?

He hands it back over with another smile and a tiny little thrill. His last joke had made the guy smirk a little. It had been a really nice look.

Who the hell is this guy? He's amusing as hell, which he can definitely use right now.

The second crack gets a snort and be shakes his head. "Nah. But could you imagine? One of those stupid rich guys with the crazy super cars. 'you don't know it, yet, but when your next bill comes...'"

Oh no. He's cuter when he laughs. Even when it is just a tiny laugh. Richie's cheeks flush a little and he takes the notepad back to draw a funky cartoon of what looks like an evil monopoly man laughing while a rich man cries over his damaged car. Above it he puts a line and 'EVIL DR. __________'

You should write your name there and make it official, Dr.

Smooth.

This one finally gets a full laugh from him. Is he going to be late for work? Yeah. Does he care? Not particularly. This guy is funny and... Well, yeah he's cute, too. Besides, any employer has got to be flexible when hero shit happens. He just had his car flattened!

"I don't know," He pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Dr. Eddie Kaspbrak doesn't really sound very intimidating."

That laugh. That laugh. Richie grins ear to ear as he writes 'Eddie K' on the line. And, as an afterthought, puts his own name underneath it. Richie Tozier.

He tears the page off and hands it over as though it was a gift. With the fresh page he kept writing.

It's plenty intimidating with the 'Evil' in front of it. Power of marketing.

He looked back at the broken car for a second and hummed.

So I think you're gonna need an Uber?

Eddie takes the paper, his eyes scanning it. He'd say this guy had to be a comedian, but what comedian can't talk? A writer, maybe?

He bobs his head. "Yeah, you've got a point, there." He's got a nice smile. There's just something about him... He just can't put his finger on what. Tilting his head, he smirks at the other man. "Trying to get rid of me so soon, Richie?" He teases, "Actually I work right over there. Honestly, though, I'm not in a huge rush."

Get rid of him? He'd rather get rid of his left arm than stop this conversation. Especially when he also doesn't seem eager to leave himself. Frantically he scribbles out his previous note and writes instead:

Not at all! I just didn't want to let the villain up there win by cancelling all your plans for the day.

But if you're just going to work then forget it. They did you a favor.

This guy writes fast! Eddie smiles, nodding as he reads the note.

"I don't want to keep you from anything you were gonna do, though. I..."

There's another crack above them and Eddie looks up to see another piece of debris falling their way. He grabs Richie and yanks him forward to safety.

"Whoa! Are you okay?!"

"Woah!" He was too surprised to really stop himself from saying something as he is suddenly yanked forward. His notepad flutters to the ground and he instinctively goes to grab Eddie's shoulders.

Oh, fuck. Of course the guy works out.

"Holy crud, that was..." He looks up and into the other guys eyes and suddenly finds breathing and talking to be a lot more of a challenge. His mouth goes bone dry as all the moisture goes toward his palms instead.

"Close..."

Oh. Oh they're really close. Eddie doesn't actually seem to mind, though. The glasses magnify Richie's eyes, making it even easier to tell how nice they are.

Then he... Talks? What's with the notebook, then? Eddie's brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he feels a sudden fog roll in. Why is he tired out of nowhere? He blinks, shaking his head to try to wake himself up. "You... You can talk?" He lets go of Richie to cover a yawn. "Shoot, I'm sorry."

Richie could curse. He has to step out of the very comfortable and incredibly attractive man's arms to go and get his notepad once more. With a frown and a small shake of his head he started scribbling notes out again.

If I talk then you're gonna be taking a nap on the sidewalk. Really awesome power. Love it.

He draws a sad face underneath it and hands it over with a shrug. As though this were just one of those things instead of the bane of his existence.

Eddie watches, confused, as Richie retrieves his notebook. What the hell? Then he takes it and reads and all is clear.

"Ah... Got it. I-" Dust from the debris tickles his nose and Eddie's eyes widen. "No..." He thrusts the notebook back into Richie's hands before stumbling away a few steps before he sneezes. The droplets sizzle as they hit the sidewalk and the side of the building. Soon enough each one burns a hole straight through the surface it landed on. He sighs, straightening and turning back to Richie.

"I know the feeling..." Awesome power he doesn't want... Yay.

"Wow," he says again without thinking before slapping a hand over his mouth and going for his notepad instead.

Okay. I'd offer you a tissue but I don't have one made of titanium.

Still he looks down at the holes and lets out a soft whistle.

I think you might share genetics with that dinosaur in Jurassic Park.

And he draws a bad picture of the frilled thing spitting on an unhappy man.

Eddie snorts, smirking and shaking his head. Okay, the guy isn't grossed out or afraid of him. That's something.

"Thanks. And maybe? I don't know, I honestly don't think about it." He sighs as he hands the notebook back. "I'd honestly be happier if I didn't have this at all."

He nods, completely understanding that.

I would love to be able to talk to people for more than a couple minutes. I get it. Sometimes powers are a real pain in the butt.

He looks over at where Eddie said he was working and then off toward the street, looking for something. And, yeah, this might be a bold move but this guy was cute and nice and they already had something in common...

We could talk about it some more while you wait for a tow? Maybe at that bar over there? 5 o' clock somewhere when your car gets destroyed.

It's nice to find someone who actually gets it. Maybe having his car crushed this time wasn't so bad after all.

His eyes skim the page. The invitation gets a smile. Oh that's tempting. He looks back at his work, one hand stroking his chin as he mulls it over. He should say no... But it's been a bad week and this is the first good thing that's happened. And he's not ready to part ways with Richie just yet. Finally, he nods. "You know what... Yeah. Yeah, sure. That sounds like a great idea."

Oh, that smile. That fucking smile. It was going to be the end of him and he was going to die happy.

Richie nods and jerks his head toward the bar before starting to walk toward it. He'd been there once or twice so he knew they'd be okay with his notepad and weird inability to actually say his order. He also knew that the booths were cozy and sometimes had candles.

Just a nice ambiance. That's all. Easy to talk in.

Inside he pointed over to one and sat down with a big grin, pad out and facing toward Eddie.

So what job are you blowing off? If it's surgeon, I might feel a little bad for encouraging you to play hookey.

Eddie readjusts his bag on his shoulder before following. God, he's never done anything like this before. Ditching work is one thing, but going out for a drink with someone he just met? Seriously, what is he thinking?

He's thinking that it's nice and he's not in a rush for this feeling to stop.

He tosses his bag to the corner of the booth to be forgotten until they leave. He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no I'm not a doctor. Nothing as exciting as that. I'm an accountant. I work for people who have more money than I could ever dream of. How about you? Mime?"

Richie realizes too quickly that he has no idea what his laugh does to people. He's going to find out now though because that whole Mime comment has him cracking up. Oh, Jesus. This guy was hilarious, too. Was he going to reveal he was loaded and actually prince of some country, next?

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes a little as though exasperated with his own answer.

I wish. Always wanted to be a comedian but clearly that's not gonna work.

I work at a radio station. Button pusher. Stuff like that.

Eddie worries for a moment that the laughter would knock him out. That would be unfortunate because the guy really does have a nice laugh. Thankfully, though, it seems like the laugh doesn't have any effect on him. He grins, pleased that his joke was appreciated.

"I mean, you could always write for one of those comedy shows, or write material for someone else. Or release an album of comedy to sleep by." Does he want to make the guy laugh again? Maybe... "Pretty cool that you work at the radio, though."

Richie shrugs again but is giggling as he does. Apparently that doesn't make people pass out so at least he's got that going for him.

Would be cooler if I had a show or something. But you're right. Best thing I can do is a sleep podcast or something.

The Sleep Talker Hour with Richie Sandman Tozier.

The server comes over and Eddie orders a beer. So what if it's early? His car was just flattened, he's entitled.

"See? There you go! 'Tired of listening to heroes fighting an alien invasion? Listen to The Sleep Talker and you'll fall right to sleep.'"

It's my actual calling in life! You figured it out! Now we just have to think about one for you...

Richie makes the sign for another beer to match Eddie's. If drinking was happening, he wasn't about to be the sober one in the group. Besides, he needed to take some of his edge off so he make sure this...lunch....not date... went okay.

He sketched a little on his pad and then turned over a drawing of a very poorly drawn Eddie in a cape.

Look! It's Deconstruction Man! Able to level buildings with a bad cold!

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