riverviewlogs | [open] lately i'm feeling like a big bang

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[open] lately i'm feeling like a big bang

who: marco & YOU
what: catch-all post with various open starters (amnesia and regular)
when: August
where: all around the Quarantine
warnings: descriptions of morphing (body horror) and nightmares; Marco is forgetting how to morph, though he's still capable of it.

i. nightmares/nocturnal (for floor 2)

[The thing is, Marco's been living alone for the past few years, or at least sleeping as alone as he can. Even back when he lived with his parents in the valley, he'd had his own room, his own space, with walls thick enough to hide it unless he was having the absolute worst nightmare possible. The only real exception had been when he was staying in Ax's scoop with him and Tobias, but at that point things had been so bad they were all having nightmares and judgement wasn't on anyone's minds.

But honestly, since the war had ended, Marco hadn't been obligated to share even a whole house with anyone, let alone a building floor with 9 other people and a room with 4 other people. So it's been a hell of a long time since he woke up, sitting up straight in his bed with sweat pouring down his face, yelling 'NO!' at the top of his lungs, in a room where people could actually hear him. And the whole floor probably heard that.

Breathing heavily, he pushes his hands back through his hair, dark eyes scanning around him, looking for an enemy for the first few, muddled seconds; after that, he's embarrassed and still panicking, his heart beating too hard, his face flushed, skin and hair damp with sweat, trying to figure out if anyone saw him.

Once he's dealt with the nightmare, he'll be in the kitchen with a light low, drinking water and making himself a snack. Anyone on the floor is welcome to hear his nightmare or run into him in the kitchen in the middle of the night.]

ii. morph-capable

[At some point, Marco forgot how he does it. Morphing. It had been so second-nature before, like a really, really unpleasant version of breathing, and now he can't remember how to trigger it at all.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't do it still. He just has no idea when it's going to happen. Or where. Or what he's going to turn into. Thankfully, he still remembers all the rules, and remembers how to get out of morph, or he'd be one sad sack nothlit in a flash. Unfortunately, pretty much no matter where he is, you might run into him spontaneously shifting forms, a gruesome mass of protruding bones and extruding feathers or scales or fur or mandibles. It's pretty unpredictable, and there's wide variety of animals and aliens that might pop out next - pick your poison.]

iii. beach party

[Marco was around the big River Festival party, wandering along the beach, checking out the water, occasionally going gull to scope the place out, do some recon, getting a feel for the place. It's been a while since he had to be secretive, since he had to hide what he can do, and who he really is, but it's a habit he falls easily back into, morphing out of sight, making sure his regular trunks are tight enough to do it.

But when he's human, all bets are off. Marco is loud, exuberant, and running around basically anywhere, on the regular beach or the clothing optional one, without a care in the world. And he's his usual charming, charismatic, wisecracking self. Even while he's gathering as much intel on the people here and what they can do as possible.]

iv. out and about

[Marco is no Rachel when it comes to shopping, but he's no slouch either. After all, with 7 million in the bank and counting, he's learned how to do a fine bit of shopping. Unfortunately, he's totally lacking in the 7 million here, so he's got to manage a budget, and thankfully he's pretty decent at that.

Marco will be out and about around stalls in the various outdoor markets, haggling up a storm. He'll also be at the outlet malls looking for discounted brand stuff, an trying to figure out the style conventions in a totally new world. Everything he knows is totally wrong here, and he's not Marco if he's not ready to grace the cover of GQ at any moment.]

v. wildcard

[Throw me a random starter, combine any of the above prompts, or hit me up via PM for a customized starter or to plot something special!]

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[He's not sure about the whole floor, but Teddy definitely heard that "no"; then again, he hasn't been sleeping that well since his shifting turned off. Luckily, he also doesn't need much sleep.

He's not sure it's really the best idea to interfere- maybe whoever it is would really rather be left alone right now- but he guesses asking is probably better than ignoring it. And whoever it was sounded pretty unhappy...

For someone his size, he's surprisingly quiet moving over to the bed he thought he heard the noise from, keeping his voice down as he asks the question.]

You okay?

[...Well, he knows the answer is probably no, but it's more of a query on whether concern is welcome or not.]

[Maybe Marco might prefer to be left alone, but right now he's feeling a little muddled, more than anything. A little confused and disoriented, because usually when he wakes up like this he's in his own bed, in his own mansion, and not in a weird summer camp for the displaced like he is right now.

Sitting up, he presses a hand over his chest, trying to calm the heavy, intense thumping of it, and his face feels too hot, a little sweaty, his breath is coming way too fast and way too shallow. Still, disoriented or not, he's immediately aware of the big blond guy coming up to the side of his bed. How could he miss it? The guy's built like a tank, all muscle and square jaw and blond hair and a million shiny perfect white teeth. Just like a guy version of Rachel, except not mean, because he's quietly asking if Marco is okay.

Pushing a hand back through his damp hair, he tries to force a smile.]

Ah, yeah, totally fine man, sorry for waking you up.

[It comes out shaky, which particularly annoys Marco considering how much of a perfect blond football player this guy is and how much Marco really doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of him, but he can only do what he can do.]

[He tilts his head, because he can recognise a forced smile when he sees one, and that isn't exactly totally-fine breathing he can hear, either, but otherwise keeps his thoughts about that to himself. He can recognise an attempted brush-off when he hears one, so a more overt approach might not be the best plan anyway, even if he's a little too concerned to just go. He gives a quick smile of his own, fleeting but reassuring.]

That's okay, I wasn't really asleep anyway. I was just heading to the kitchen, actually.

[He wasn't, but hey, at least it's likely to be empty about now, and it might do them both good to be somewhere out of the way for now. And being somewhere emptier might give the other guy time to calm down a little, maybe even talk a little. He shrugs, with his best casual, not-prying expression.]

Want to come with? I think I have some coffee hiding in the cupboard somewhere.

[It isn't so much that Marco wants to be alone - actually that's kind of the opposite of what he wants right now - he just doesn't want to be pitied because of a couple bad dreams, especially when he's so used to them that it's almost routine to wake up like this.

When the guy just gives him a quick smile and says he was heading to the kitchen, like it's not even a big deal and without a hint of pity, Marco relaxes a bit, smiles. Sliding out of bed, he stands up a bit shakily, and pushes a hand back through his hair again, nodding.]

Yeah, man. Coffee would be great right now, seriously.

Follow me, then?

[He stands up and heads off towards the main door, careful to be quiet threading his way between the beds, looking back over his shoulder to see if he is actually being followed. He mostly keeps the coffee around for Billy, actually, but he's sure his boyfriend won't miss a little and probably wouldn't mind in an emergency anyway.

He waits until the bedroom door shuts behind them before talking again at his normal volume, although that's not actually that much louder, despite his size. Hulkling gets most of the shouting done- not that he really wants to think about being Hulkling right now, when he can't shift- but in normal every day life, he's much happier being .]

I don't think we've met, but I'm not really around much in the day. I'm Teddy. New to the floor, or am I just really bad at noticing people?

*So there wasn't much movement from the bed next to Marco's as he woke up. But... there is a curious thing. Marco shouldn't be feeling alone as he heads to the kitchen. Like a gentle feeling that someone is there for him, and he should be feeling a little less uneasy, a little calmer, and a little better rested. At least than how he should feel after such a nightmare.*

...Do you want to talk about it, or do you want some sort of distraction?

*Lola's standing at the edge of the kitchen watching him for a few moments. She's very quiet, not entirely because it's the middle of the night and maybe people are trying to get back to sleep. Her hair is still that dead white color it turns while she's unconscious, and with that right level of bedhead to be cute but not amusing. She's wearing a thin nightgown over her tank top and shorts, but the gown is long enough to get down to her knees.*

*Look it's summer and and she doesn't want to wear any more than she has to. Sharing a room sucks.*

[Usually, when Marco gets a weird feeling like someone is following him around, it isn't exactly pleasant. In fact, Marco's pretty used to that paranoid feeling of someone following him, and he's pretty used to trusting it and being on guard. This one's a bit different, though. Instead of weird and uncomfortable, it's more the opposite, like being watched over instead of just watched. Super weird, and almost a little more concerning for it.

So when the voice comes from behind him, he jumps a bit, glances over his shoulder with his dark eyes wide.]

Oh man, Lola, you almost gave me a heart attack!

[Shaking his head, he laughs a bit. With her white hair and a little nightgown slip dress thing, she looks like a particularly cute ghost.]

And uh. I dunno. Probably distraction.

[Or at least, a distraction until he can manage to make himself talk about it.]

I... can't exactly feel sorry about that.

*For starters, there wasn't really any way for her to get his attention that wouldn't be startling. Oh yeah and he woke up screaming and that was really intense, and not the way Lola wanted to wake up.*

*Lola starts by setting a kettle on the stove with some water and picking out one of the teas that's suppose to be calming. She wasn't much of a tea drinker but she knew a little something. All of this gives her time to try and think of something distracting.*

I mean, I'd suggest we play a game or something but... no, that's dumb. We don't really wanna make a lot of noise and wake ourselves up more or anything else. Hmm...

*Lola's still actually feeling a little tired, so she goes for the idea of least resistance. She pushes one of the chairs up next to Marco's. Sits down, and curls up against him.*

I mean, all teenage boys get distracted when a girl in their pajamas is curled up against them. That's always a thing right?

*...Lola...*

I should, probably. Say I'm sorry, I mean.

[Marco shrugs his narrow shoulders, pursing his lips and watching her as she starts putting on a kettle of water and digging out some tea. This is weird, honestly, having someone make tea for him after a bad dream - he's pretty sure his mom was the last one who did that, actually. Back when he was like 9 years old.]

Thanks, too, you know.

[It's uncharacteristically soft, and he shrugs, mouth pursing a little as she settles into a chair next to him and leans over, curling up against him, and suddenly it's not reminding him of his mom at all. Swallowing, he smiles a bit and puts an arm around her shoulders.]

Well, guess you've got a point there.

You had a nightmare, those happen. It isn't your fault.

*She couldn't guess why. Nightmares happened to lots of people for all sorts of reasons. Maybe it was a space thing? That stuff seemed kinda big and scary.*

There's not much I can really do, I can make tea, I can be distracting. Plus this distraction is very comfortable and means you know you're not alone. That helps, right?

[What she says is so incredibly simple and genuine that something relaxes in Marco when she says it, so easily excusing him for waking her up and being pathetic enough to have a nightmare so loudly in the first place.

He takes a sip of the tea she made him, makes a soft hum of pleasure in his throat, and relaxes back in the chair a bit while she leans against him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tries to calm down, to relax enough that his heart stops beating so hard, to get his breathing under control. She's not wrong, about being distracting, and after a moment he hums.]

You're right. My only complaint is that kitchen chairs are not comfortable. You...wanna move this to the couch?

*Lola smiles.*

A really good idea. It'll also give us some space from the bedrooms so we can talk a little louder.

*Lola hops up first and takes Marco's tea-less hand in her's. Curling up on the sofa is way better than in chairs. Sofas are always better.*

Sounds perfect.

[When she gets up and takes his hand, he goes with her, following her into the other room and to one of the big comfy sofas. When they get there, he lets go of her hand and settles down on the couch, one corner of his mouth perking up.]

You want to be on the top or the bottom?

*Lola, being Lola, decided to just curl up in Marco's lap. Not next to him and cuddling up this time she decided to just sorta drape herself over him because she's tired, he seemed comfy. And the goal of all of this was to be very distracting from his nightmare.*

I wouldn't be as distracting if you were on top.

[When Yuffie goes to bed that night she isn't expecting anything strange to happen. When she wakes up she decides that something strange has definitely happened. This isn't her room or her bed. It isn't the first time she's woken up somewhere strange however she usually knows how she got there.

She stretches out, tugging at the blankets, before noticing that she isn't alone in the bed. Yuffie pauses and looks over at the mess of black hair.]

Ah, good morning?

[Yuffie is at least dressed.]

Edited 2017-08-27 23:40 (UTC)

[Ed had gotten used to seeing some strange things in all the various worlds he'd been to. Although Attollo hadn't boasted much on the monster front, Purg and the Quarantine certainly had their fair share. Plus there was always the random resident here or there that looked like they fit in better with the monsters.

He was used to all of that. Truth be told, if he considered it he'd also be used to the idea of someone shapeshifting, not only Envy from home but others over the years as well.

What he wasn't used to was someone in the middle of the path he was on that appeared mostly human, as scales seemed to grow along his arms and neck while a giant snake-like tail started to form out of nowhere. Only for the process to reverse just as abruptly as if the guy had no real control over it.

Sorry Marco, that doesn't seem normal.]

Hey, are you all right?

[At this point Ed's just hoping this is something unique to this guy's personal experience and not the new confusing and horrifying surprise awaiting everyone on the moon.]

[Considering he hadn't acquired anything new recently that he might've gotten an allergy to, the whole 'morphing by accident and not under any sort of control' thing is really, really disturbing. And annoying. And dangerous, because, as is apparent by the blond guy with the long braid walking up to him looking vaguely concerned and asking if he's alright.

Well, so much for stealth.

Of course it's not like Marco was making any particular effort to hide the fact he can morph, especially after being so out of the habit post-war. Keeping it secret had been ideal, but not absolutely necessary after a few days of recon and working out that there doesn't seem to be any kind of Yeerk presence on this moon at all. Still, he hadn't exactly wanted to morph in the middle of the street in full view of the public either. Not a pretty sight.

As he finishes up the demorph, feeling the last of the nasty cobra tail slide back into his spine, he shrugs and gives the guy an easy smile.]

Yeah I'm fine. I know it looks super weird, but it doesn't hurt.

[No use in showing all his cards. He's not going to admit that it's out of control, no way.]

[His immediate reaction to that sort of dismissive reassurance is that it is hiding something. He's done this for too long to think otherwise, but there was something else that was immediately apparent to the blond and Marco could probably see the relief radiating off of him.]

I take it shape shifting is something you're used to. Sorry about that.

[Not about to be a moon-wide epidemic of people morphing snakes, got it. If anything he might look a little embarrassed for bothering the guy at all.]

Things can get a little weird around here, just thought I'd make sure...

[The guy's relief is pretty much palpable, and Marco can't really blame him. Morphing is a complete horror show, and it looks like it should be agonizing - feels like it too, honestly - but it isn't. Then the guy apologizes and comments that he must be used to it, that he's just checking, and he's calm about it, there's no panic, no weirdness, no pity.

There's just Marco standing there in a pair of athletic leggings and a T-shirt that pulls across his narrow shoulders, barefoot in the middle of a city, and this blond guy looking at him curiously. Thankfully, Marco's pretty used to standing in weird places in skintight clothing.]

Totally appreciated, man.

[Glancing around, Marco surveys the stalls and shops in the area.]

Hey, can I ask you a favor? Do you know this area? Because I could really use a pair of sandals and a shirt that leaves a bit more to the imagination...

Edited 2017-08-25 03:30 (UTC)

[Ed is used to weird and horrifying, and honestly very little of it bothers him anymore as long as it isn't painful and/or contagious. Those were his main concerns after living in Purg, and it continued in Attollo and now here. Was it painful or dangerous, and was it a new situation that could possibly be spreading throughout the place?

Another thing Ed is used to is pity for all the wrong reasons. It was part of his motivation for concealing the automail. Either he didn't trust a person enough, or even if he did he didn't want to deal with that inevitable awkward moment.]

Actually, I can help with that. Shops along the beach tend to sell clothing in case someone's in a pinch... shirts, water shoes, sunglasses- that sort of thing. There should be at least one nearby. Let's take a look.

[Ed's also making a mental note that these might be useful to add to the General Store's inventory, they hadn't had a chance to stock much yet and mostly stuck to the essentials from his days in Purg. He knew they weren't likely to sell much through a repair shop, but having a small stock in case of emergencies had always suited him.

He waves a hand for Marco to follow, starting toward the river and line of small shops peddling the usual beach fair, ice cream, snacks, coolers, sunscreen etc.]

We'll probably have better luck this way unless you want to grab real clothes from one of those big stores. That'd be a longer walk though, and I'm ... not sure they'd let you in barefoot, actually.

[This place had a lot of weird rules after four years in Purg.]

Edited 2017-08-25 21:42 (UTC)

Thanks.

[It's genuine, his brows raising a bit as he glances off in the direction of the beach where the guy gestures, and he nods. He's a little surprised he's willing to show him the way and come along, but Marco's sure not going to look a gift horse in the mouth (whatever that means) and so he takes it. Walking along beside the guy as the start down toward the shops by the beach, he glances over at the other guy.]

Yeah, I mean, I could probably totally charm them into letting me in, but I'm not really in the mood right now.

[And at least he's not stealing things in gull form or anything - the ability to pay for things digitally here is a total gift, and if they had a morphable phone that would make it perfect.]

I'm Marco, by the way. Pleased to meet you. I mean, the circumstances kinda suck, but still. You seem like a cool guy.

[ Cisco doesn't even think about it, as he gets into the elevator, waits for the doors to close, and hits the button for the ground floor. It's just like the thousands of other times in his life, when he's gotten into an elevator and just stood around, waiting for his stop. There's a young guy in the elevator, too, but he doesn't stand too close or try to start up a conversation, he's just standing on the other side of the elevator and maintaining the silence and personal space etiquette, so Cisco pays him no mind.

That is, until the elevator comes to a shuddering, loud halt. Then, terrifyingly, it drops - only about a foot, before it comes to a grinding stop once more. Still, that tiny drop was enough to get Cisco's heart racing, enough to make him shout dios mío and grab hold of the railing along the side of the elevator.

He waits for the elevator to move again, or for the doors to open, but instead it just... stays there. Closed and unmoving. Cautiously, Cisco takes a step towards the panel, tries pressing a button. Nothing. He hits the door open button, and the light comes on, but the doors do not budge. He hits the number for the floor he'd come in from, but there is no change. ]

Well, fuck.

[It's a pretty standard part of his day - the ride up the elevator, during which he usually chills out and listens to music on his headphones or reads the network or whatever. He's doing the latter, leaning casually up against the wall of the elevator, hand draped on the railing, minding his own business, when suddenly the whole thing grinds to a halt.

When the guy in the elevator with him yells dios mío just like Marco's mom used to say when she was caught off-guard or surprised, Marco just gasps, and then, abruptly, the elevator is falling. Marco yelps, then screams, his hands going tight around the handrailing, until the whole thing falls short again. His breath catches, he's holding onto the railing with his hands white-knuckled, and he looks up at the other guy in the elevator with his dark eyes wide and a bit wild, his shoulders hunched.]

Holy crap, what just happened? Are we seriously trapped in an elevator right now? Aw man, this is not funny.

[ Cisco is already looking at the paneling around the controls for the elevator, squinting at the screws. He reaches in his pocket for a multitool that he carries around with him always - thank goodness for his mix of paranoia and curiosity that means he wants to be ready to open shit up at any moment - and starts taking off the cover. It takes a couple of tries to fit the screwdriver into each screw, because his hands are shaking pretty bad from the shock of that sudden drop. ]

If I had to guess? Something went wrong and the emergency clamps got triggered. There's still power, and I didn't hear any cables snapping... I don't think...

[ He is suddenly wishing he had brushed up on his knowledge of elevators - he'd gone through a phase of being really interested in them, when he was a kid and interested in any kind of complex machine he could think of - but that was a long time ago, and he didn't bother to check the particular model and systems in place here. Rookie mistake.

Cisco looks up, really noticing the other guy in the elevator for the first time. Something in his expression softens when Cisco sees that the guy is maybe a couple years younger than him, and looks very extremely freaked out by the situation. Which is how Cisco's feeling, too. But he manages a tiny encouraging smile and says: ]

What, are you tellin' me you never wanted to recreate that whole bit from the beginning of Speed?

[ It's feeble, as jokes go, but it's something at least. ]

[Marco doesn't usually think of himself as a 'phobias' guy, but being stuck in a tight space where he can't morph out of whatever small morph he's in is kind of freaky. This is definitely not that - hell, he could go full gorilla in here and tear the door open if he wanted. There's room. But phobias or not, there's still that feeling of being trapped that sets him off, the fact that if this elevator fell they'd both be totally screwed.

The other guy heads over to the panel and Marco keeps clinging to the handrailing, staring at him while he pulls out a tool and starts futzing with the controls. Biting his lower lip a bit, Marco slowly releases his grip on the railing, and shakes his head.]

Haha, totally hilarious dude. No, I definitely did not want to recreate that scene. I like being alive and not blown up. They blew something up in that scene, right? I mean, it's been a while.

[Fidgeting a bit, he moves a few steps forward and tilts his head, peering at the completely incomprehensible inside of the panel.]

Uh, you know about this stuff?

[ Cisco doesn't say anything at first; his brain has shifted gears to trying to figure out the internal systems of the elevator. His belated answer, when it does come, is light and just a touch sarcastic ]

Yeah I don't really remember right now, I can either fix this damn thing or talk about Keanu Reeves and I got a feeling which one I should be doing right now.

[ He can talk a little, though, so he goes on: ]

Tech? Yeah. Elevators? Not particularly. But I've figured out worse than this. I'm not gonna get us killed.

[ He says it with more certainty than he's feeling, because he doesn't want the guy to freak out. Cisco's good, but he's not good enough to deal with his own fear, and working out how to get the doors open, and dealing with a panicking stranger all at the same time.

He yanks a wire free from a tangle of others, pinching at the end and pulling away the casing, before he peers back inside the panel. If he can just find the right spot...

Cisco touches the wire to the place he thinks might control the doors. There is a spark (he can feel the hairs on his arms stand up) and a sound in the internal mechanisms. Then, the doors open, just an inch. He says, in a sharp voice: ]

Quick, wedge 'em open, use a shoe or something!

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[open] lately i'm feeling like a big bang

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v. wildcard

ii.

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ii, backdated a little

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