ghostharasser | Open Post

[THAT NOISE MUST HAVE BEEN SOMEONE ELSE, CERTAINLY NOT STANLEY...

Stanley beams wide though and without thinking about the state of either of their clothes he pulls Mason in for the quickest little tight hug. Good to see you, bro!

Neither of them are capable of letting their guard down for more than literally half a second though, so it doesn't last. Stanley settles quickly into the seat next to him and gestures to the bartender. He grins, points rapidly between himself and Mason, and then mimes tilting a glass toward his mouth before offering the guy a Lemon Fanta cap from a little red bag. He doesn't specify a drink for them, but the guy will figure it out, probably.

As soon as the bartender has their back turned, Stanley slides the bag over to Mason so he can see what he's earned. There's a couple dozen bottle caps in there, mostly grape and lemon, but a few strawberries as well. Not bad for just a few hours, right?]

[Ah- Pretty much everything he wanted to say and ask dies in his throat when Stanley pulls him in for a hug. Though he allows him to disengage, Mason definitely holds him ...very tightly for a moment, and almost doesn't want to let go at first, before he gets his shit together and tries to brush it off like that didn't happen At all.]

[He catches what he's doing, but before he can even say anything, Stanley already has the bottle caps out. Ah ...of course.]

[Someone's already been busy. He has a tired smile on his face despite it all as he looks at the bag.]

You've already gotten your feet under you, huh? Nice work. I can't believe you caught me slacking off.

[He gives him a light little punch in the shoulder.]

...I'm glad to see you. Is your brother with you...?

[All it takes is "Nice work" for Stanley's whole face to light up. He did it! He did a good job! And now neither of them have to worry about money for at least a couple days, probably!

He laughs though and slugs Mason back, just as lightly. It's a small bit of normalcy that neither of them get very often. He doesn't have to say it out loud for Mason to know the feeling is mutual. He's glad to see him too, and glad to immediately prove himself useful.

At mention of Ford though, that happy face falls. He shakes his head and then points from himself, to his temple, to Mason in quick succession. I - thought - you? You don't have him? The more that realization sets in, the deeper the pit in his stomach grows. Of course he's not with Mason. He was supposed to be with Stanley. Ford's missing and it's entirely his fault.

While Stanley is on this guilty face journey, the bartender sets down two non-water drinks for them - something cold and amber-colored in a tall glass.]

[Ford isn't with him, just like Mabel wasn't with him. Or rather, they haven't run into each other, yet.]

[He's quiet while he processes this, but after a moment or two the gears start to turn. He slams back an impressive amount of whatever's in that glass. It's good, whatever it is. Alcoholic. It's so nice to be able to enjoy something for fucking once despite the suddenly more concerning turn things have taken. Once the mug is on the counter again, he will start to rattle off his thoughts.]

We'll just go look for them. If you and I woke up here, then the odds are good they're here, too. We can both cover plenty of ground and while we look we can scout places to stay.

[It's Mason's Plan Mode, which Stanley should know very well. If he makes plans then the anxiety and dread can't catch him.]

[He's very familiar with Plan Mode, since he's always ready to fall into his job as second in command when it comes to keeping the family safe. Sure, sometimes he goes a little off-script, but together they always get things done. They know how to split up duties and focus on what they have to do to get by.

Mason takes a long, impressive, very cool swig of his drink and rattles off what they have to do next, and it seems to pull Stanley out of his mood a bit. He gives a firm nod, but when he tries to do the same with his own drink he chokes on it and as he coughs he has to wave an arm to insist he's fine he's FINE he just tried to breathe alcohol that's all!!!

After he catches his breath he takes that again and nods one more time. Yeah. They'll find them. If they're here, they'll find them.]

[Mason is very kind to him and doesn't laugh, but he does have to turn and check his coat conveniently to hide the way he almost smiles. Cough.]

[But that's good. That means that Stanley isn't dwelling on anything he shouldn't, which he could tell he was from the expression on his face once they'd established their missing siblings. They've always pulled together by being busy. This ...this would be no different.]

[He stands, to start getting ready to head off. After a moment, he pauses and taps on Stanley's shoulder, then gestures to the bloodstain on his shirt.]

...Are you still injured?

[He doesn't know if he wants to ...call attention to the obvious thing here, which is that Stanley looks like he got fatally wounded. That both of them waking up in this place happened because they were both dead.]

[When Mason stands, so does Stanley. This is no time to sit around and drink; they have kids to find. Stanley's already mulling over the different places he's already been and where else they could look when Mason taps his shoulder. He looks down at his shirt as if he's noticing the bloodstain for the first time. Oof. That does look pretty bad, huh?

Stanley shakes his head, and gives two thumbs up. No, he's good. But this has him looking over Mason for the first time and noticing that he's got some blood stains too. Hesitantly, Stanley reaches out and gives Mason's coat a tug near the worst of the damage, and he looks genuinely concerned. Are you still injured?

They're important questions, even without getting into what happened or if either of them are mentally okay. It's just another thing on the survival checklist. If they're hurt, they need to stop and take care of that, find supplies for that. They won't get far looking for Ford and Mabel with fatal injuries.

The implication is sinking in though, but it's bigger than just the two of them. Neither option is great - if they both died to get here then either their siblings died too and are around somewhere...or, they didn't and they're in Deerington alone. It just makes Stanley antsier, and even quicker to head for the door.]

[Yes. It’s getting harder and harder for Mason to continue compartmentalizing everything that’s threatening to broil out of him. Keeping th tight lid on his fraying nerves is only going to happen for so long, now when they’re both looking at the hard truth.]

[Mason’s hands shake for a moment, but he shakes his head, pulling his coat back a little for Stanley to see. The rip in his clothing is big enough that the scarred skin is visible. He’s healed, somehow or another.]

I’m fine.

[He shakes his head, tries to offer him a smile but ultimately just swallows it back down. They had siblings to find, then Mason could fall to pieces over how much he’s fucked up. If they’re all dead, then their blood is on his hands, and he can’t run from it forever.]

Let’s keep an eye out for clothing, too. The smell of blood might attract something.

[Mason's fine. Stanley's fine. They're both fine. No one's going to fall to pieces right this second, so Stanley takes it at face value. He won't push if Mason doesn't.

The clothing thing is a good point though. It had gotten him a couple of pity points when he was out earlier, but generally walking around covered in blood is just asking for something to smell it and come try and rip your insides out. They need clean clothes.

Stanley gestures for Mason to hold out his hand, and when he does he'll pour about half of his bag of caps into his palm. It's not much and he didn't exactly count out an amount, but it might be enough for him to get something to wear. And hey, if that doesn't work Stanley can always steal him something.]

[Everything’s fine. They just need to keep moving and everything will be fine. Keeping moving is what kept them alive until it didn’t, after all.]

[Mason startles a little when Stanley pours the caps into his hands like that. He almost doesn’t want to take them. Stanley earned them, even though they’ve always shared everything up until now. Ah, the guilt is going to eat him alive at this point.]

[He takes them in the end, giving him a grateful smile. He can’t falter now, not when they still have to find the others. The guilt can destroy him later, but right now Stanley needs him to keep his shit together.]

Let’s meet up back here when the sun sets.

[Too bad, Mason. Stanley isn't going to take no for an answer and it shows all over his face. It isn't until Mason accepts it and offers a smile that Stanley eases.

He nods, and holds up a hand so they can deal the deal with a high-six - or, a rare high five, since Ford hasn't been found yet. They've got this. They can do this!!!]

[They can't do this. Or at least, Stanley can't do this.

Stan headed more toward the east, getting himself a new outfit at the East Street Bazaar before trying to find places Ford or Mabel would be getting their noses into. There was a general store with craft supplies, but no sign of Mabel there. He did pick up a green leather-bound notebook and pens after challenging the tough lady working there to arm wrestling to lower the price - he lost and she didn't, but she said she liked his moxie. He also came across a forge and some kinda old timey pharmacy, which were both great things to keep in the back of his head, but his feet carried him to the one place he was sure Ford would have made it to - the Docks. The place is pretty abandoned though, and after a couple hours of searching and throwing rocks in the water and feeling sorry for himself, he has to admit this might've been wishful thinking. Maybe it's just where he hoped Ford would be.

He gets back to the Tavern first, leaning against the wall outside with his arms crossed like some punk, face half-hidden in his hood, but he's really just feeling pretty lousy about failing to find anyone. But hey, maybe Mason had better luck?]

[This is rough, and Mason feels like he is low-key-high-key standing at the edge of a panic attack the entire time. Being around people and expecting hostility from locals and then not getting it, looking around for any signs of the others and finding nothing, feeling lost in a place he doesn’t know after spending [???????] years in the same town and knowing it inside and out. Everything about this has him deeply overstimulated.]

[But he does manage to find clothes, and …throwing out that old coat was a lot harder than he expected it to be. As Wastes, they simply did not own things, just the clothing on their backs. To lay that to rest…]

[He can’t think about this now. He takes to the south and west, passing through the SEAMEN Research center looking for Ford specifically, but more or less checking every shop he can find for Mabel. She would be anywhere and everywhere, honestly. Both the kids would.]

[As the sun sets, Mason trudges in late, empty handed. Feet like lead. Did the sun get to him? Is he just tired…? He thinks he sees Stanley, just a little more-]

[Mason drops to the ground about ten feet away from Stanley.]

[Stanley spots Mason, and he's about to wave at him when the guy just. Drops half-dead to the dirt in front of him. The pity party is instantly over and Stanley rushes to his side.

At first he just gives Mason's shoulder a couple of rough shakes, but maybe that's not enough. This is important, maybe even life or death, so he doesn't hesitate to call out to him--]

M^as_on!

[He hates his stupid cracking out-of-practice voice, but making sure Mason is okay is more important. He does checks that feel almost routine now - is there a heartbeat? Is he breathing? Is there a wound to tend to?]

[He is pale and sweating, and looks like he’s been out in the heat a little too long. Otherwise he isn’t wounded, and he’s breathing but just a little shallower.]

[It takes a few rough shakes to stir him, but what really finally brings him around is …]

Snnrk-!

[After all that time of having his voice be made fun of, finally his comeuppance…]

[WOW, FUCK YOU TOO, MASON.

Stanley is red-faced with embarrassment and drops him maybe a little more roughly than he should given the circumstances, but if he's alive enough to laugh at him then he's probably going to be fine. ...Probably

Still, Mason's got to get out of the sun. Stanley gets behind him and scoops him up under the arms, and shifts him a little until he has a good grip on him, and then lugs his dead weight into the tavern. This time he nudges Mason into a booth so he doesn't have to balance at a bar stool and can rest his head on the table if he needs to.

Soon, Stanley is nudging a tall glass of water against the side of Mason's face like it's an ice pack. He's gotten them a big pitcher from the bartender, which makes this the least they've had to worry about water in a long time.]

Oof! haha- sorry, I’m sorry…!

[He sounds pretty weak and he is literally dead weight as Stanley drags his sorry ass inside. He takes his place with his face on the table, groggily reaching for the glass so he can continue holding it to his face.]

…s’too hot out here, Stanley.

[Once a Californian…]

Didn’t have any luck.

[Really, Stanley shouldn't be doing much better. New Jersey isn't exactly known for oppressive heat after all, but a lot of the places he looked were indoors or by water.

He mutters something in the affirmative - not a whisper, but more of a mumble than a "yeah it's too damn hot here". He's still a little embarrassed, but at least he got something to help continue avoiding the problem.

After a second of scribbling, he pushes his open notebook under Mason's nose. Maybe it'll be easier than charades while he's feeling like shit.]

ME EITHER

BIG DESERT

LOCALS SAID ITLL GET COLD AT NIGHT

[The unspoken part being that, if they stay here and rest long enough for Mason to get his bearings, the temperature will drop and it won't be so oppressive out.]

Edited 2024-08-12 05:43 (UTC)

[Oh?? He startles a little at the notebook sliding towards him enough that he finally properly lifts his head to look. He takes a sip of water.]

That makes sense.

[That was a desert thing, right? He's pretty sure he remembers hearing about that in the past. When he was the kind of person to just read shit like geography books for fun. It is a relief, though.]

I've been eavesdropping a little on the locals. It sounds like ...people showing up here displaced isn't all that strange. [Like Deerington, he doesn't say, but he's sure they're both thinking it.] We should keep looking, but there's a chance they just haven't gotten here yet. There's also word of housing up for grabs in a place called the Daybreak District. I think we should check it out later.

[Stanley's thinking of Deerington, but he's thinking of more than just that. He bites at his lower lip, and takes the notebook again.]

THINK EVERYONE HERE'S "DISPLACED" LIKE US?

[And in case that was somehow too subtle, he doodles a little skull and crossbones and effectively says the quiet part out loud...sort of. As "out loud" as Stanley gets these days. Then, like he never brought up the elephant in the room:]

I WOKE UP NEAR THERE. LOOKED PRETTY SECURE? THEY'RE BIG METAL SHIPPING BINS.

[Of course they'll have to check it out more closely themselves, but a solid metal structure will keep out whatever creatures live here at least, and give them a safe place to sleep.]

[He sees what Stanley's putting down and it makes him fall quiet for a moment.]

[This is really the elephant in the room, huh? The thing he was trying really hard not to think about. The thing he was clinging to denial on. If he died then he had it coming, but the Stans...]

[He sucks in a breath and then ...reaches for the notebook. It's cowardly, but he knows if he tries talking he won't keep it together.]

In the end both of you died, too, huh.

[He taps the pen a moment, then swallows, forcing himself to keep writing.]

I'm such damned fool, if I had just listened to Mabel from the start none of this would have happened. I got my entire family killed...

[He drops the pen and covers his face.]

[Stanley's a little surprised that Mason takes the paper, and doesn't fully grasp why he's choosing to write. Maybe he doesn't want anyone to overhear? But then Stanley reads it and...oh.

Oh.

He gives Mason a second to gather himself, though mostly it's because he's not sure what to say or do at first either. Right away he's waving both both hands and shaking his head, but that isn't really doing much when Mason won't even look at him.

So instead of immediately writing, he shuts his green leather journal and thwacks Mason on the head with it. Not hard of course - the thing is home made and the cover is on the softer side anyway - but hopefully enough to knock just a little sense into him. It's only then that he scribbles more--]

ME AND FORD DIDN'T LISTEN TO HER EITHER YKNOW AND YOURE THE REASON IT DIDN'T HAPPEN EVEN SOONER SO CUT IT OUT!!!!

[He pauses, debating if he wants to keep going. But...he probably should, so that Mason quits blaming himself for things that aren't his fault.]

I LOST FORD. DUNNO IF HE MADE IT.

HE LET GO OF ME AND I COULDN'T SEE HIM. THAT'S NOT ON YOU.

[It's uncomfortable to admit though. He still slides the notebook to Mason, but he shuts it first this time and suddenly seems extremely invested in his own glass of water and swirling it to make the ice cubes knock into each other.]

[The bonk is what's most effective here. He is utterly concentrated on not dissolving into hysterics right now, absolutely wrecked with the grief of having to admit that "out loud". Of making it all the more concrete and sure in his mind than it was before. If he'd listened to Mabel, they would have been taken in by the other Pines.]

[None of them would have had to die. Mabel wouldn't have had to die.]

[So the sound he makes is awful when Stanley bonks him, and he looks up eyes red and glossy from trying to hold it in. He sobers somewhat while he waits. Is Stanley going to agree with him? Is this maybe where they part ways, because it's just too much-]

...

[Somehow that's even worse. That Stanley doesn't blame him. That he has this much trust in him and he's really just a huge fuck-up. His shoulders drop in a much more tired way, suddenly losing the energy to be truly anguished. His expression turns miserable and contrite. While Ford's situation is more ambiguous it does mean he's either alone now, or he died later on. With how dangerous it had been ...he hopes maybe he was the smartest of them all and went to the Other Pines.]

...She was dead before I could even reach her. I couldn't bring her back, Stanley. She died angry because I was a stubborn, useless idiot.

Edited 2024-08-13 09:08 (UTC)

[The heartbreak is clear on Stanley's face, the confirmation that Mabel is definitely dead hurts like a shot to the chest. It hurts like dying hurt, but he tries to reel it in a little for Mason. He looks Mason in the eye and shakes his head as firmly as he can. Points at Mason, then makes an X with his hands. "No, you're not."]

CMON ITS MABEL. SHE WOULDNT STAY MAD. SHE'D CALL YOU A DUMDUM ONCE AND MOVE ON, THATS JUST HOW SHE IS.

THATS HOW ITLL BE WHEN WE FIND HER

[He looks at the message, and then decides to underline WHEN aggressively before giving the journal to Mason.]

Edited 2024-08-13 23:34 (UTC)

[It feels selfish to be relieved that Stanley doesn't actually agree with him. That he's still arguing against him when he clearly thinks he should have some kind of justice for this whole mess.]

[His words to strike a chord, though. He can't hope that he's right, because that would be some insanely wishful thinking. Mabel has every write to sock the shit out of him, and he'd let her, but ...]

[But he can have hope that they'll find her, if nothing else. Much like a certain Great Uncle of his hoped for 30 years to see his brother again, regardless of how angry or upset he might be when he got back.]

...Alright. You're right. We'll find her, so I can apologize to her, if nothing else.

[He pulls himself back together with a deep breath, scrubbing at his face.]

Sorry, I'm better now. Thank you.

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