Seth Gecko (
screwedontight) wrote in
entranceway2018-03-03 08:57 pm
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[The feed starts out of focus and when it comes back into focus, the view isn't much better. Mostly just a glass of amber liquid, but then these days Seth isn't much seen without one. Not unless a certain friend has been saddled with talking him down again. After a moment though the view shifts, showing the man himself. Midnight black suit, snowy shirt, even his tie is neat and knotted just show.
So much for predictions that after a while he'd start dressing down, though the girl that made the prediction had been shipped home so that might have something to do with it.
Anyone that knows the area though might recognize a booth at Lux. The same one his child self had occupied a few weeks earlier.]
Right so it hit me just now that I've been in this place over a year, which given I haven't stayed in a place longer than about six months since I was eight would be impressive. You know if not for the fact that this is about as mandatory as my last stint, and without the fun knowledge of a release date but with just about as many visit from my brother so that evens out.
[Even without Richie there, Seth's taking jabs at him. Not that he could fault Richie not visiting him in prison, but logic has no place in Seth's rantings.]
Whatever though. Most seem to keep a calendar here and the holidays and all. Christmas. Thanksgiving. What? Arbor Day's coming up, right? What about the rest though? Given we stay our same youthful, beautiful selves [He bites back saying Grunkles not included because dude, what even with the fez] does the rest matter but for ourselves? Do we count the years, or just the celebration of being alive to be stuck in this place? What about anniversaries and other dates from before?
Or does it all just become when you got here, and when all the people that matter left?
[Because for some barely functioning alcoholics without jobs to distract them, that's what's sticking in their heads, apparently.]
So much for predictions that after a while he'd start dressing down, though the girl that made the prediction had been shipped home so that might have something to do with it.
Anyone that knows the area though might recognize a booth at Lux. The same one his child self had occupied a few weeks earlier.]
Right so it hit me just now that I've been in this place over a year, which given I haven't stayed in a place longer than about six months since I was eight would be impressive. You know if not for the fact that this is about as mandatory as my last stint, and without the fun knowledge of a release date but with just about as many visit from my brother so that evens out.
[Even without Richie there, Seth's taking jabs at him. Not that he could fault Richie not visiting him in prison, but logic has no place in Seth's rantings.]
Whatever though. Most seem to keep a calendar here and the holidays and all. Christmas. Thanksgiving. What? Arbor Day's coming up, right? What about the rest though? Given we stay our same youthful, beautiful selves [He bites back saying Grunkles not included because dude, what even with the fez] does the rest matter but for ourselves? Do we count the years, or just the celebration of being alive to be stuck in this place? What about anniversaries and other dates from before?
Or does it all just become when you got here, and when all the people that matter left?
[Because for some barely functioning alcoholics without jobs to distract them, that's what's sticking in their heads, apparently.]
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[Least there's a smile with his sarcasm.]
Eh, I hadn't even realized it happened. No one wants to remember landing in an attic full of dolls.
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Means one of us didn't age while the other did.
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[Had to be said, but he doesn't sound too caustic when he says it. He takes in the man's appearance for a moment, then shrugs slightly.]
I gave up counting the years a few eons ago, but I'm a special case. Just passed a year here, myself.
*hitting all the buttons sorry*
[Least he was honest about it.]
About when do people who live forever, or close enough to it, stop counting? Like do you ever count those things?
lolol we've all been there
[He gets it.
Then, he thinks.]
What you have to understand is that I don't even view time in the same way as you. For you, it's finite. For me... barring the apocalypse, it's going to go on forever.
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Still not quite looking to die, but certainly not dreading it.
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[Not even sarcastic about it. Not entirely. Much less than usual with Seth.]
For some, sure. And go for it, you know? But... yeah for some? The idea of not ever aging here was a good one. I was kind of looking forward to that.
[So it wouldn't ever matter that his brother was undead and they would stay the same forever. He'd been good with that.]
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Oh, uh, you're welcome. And thank you. I haven't celebrated my birthday like that in years. [He shrugs lightly.] I can hardly disagree though, there are certainly benefits to not aging. But... it's all too easy to grow restless over time. Celebrations here and there make this place feel a little less like a cage.
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Hey.
( There's a slight smile that doesn't quite stick. She got to know Seth because of Richie, and Richie is gone, but Seth is still here. He must miss his brother. )
I've never celebrated my birthday here, but I never do in my own world either. ...should I say sorry about being here for a year?
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Smirking a bit as he sees the glass in her hand. It saddens him a bit that in some ways she reminds him of Richie when they were younger, of himself even. Caught up in too much this to be that young, and no one to tell them that their coping mechanisms are wrong and bad.]
Naw, but thanks. I still want to be here, just not like this. Shoulda known better than to expect shit to work out, you know?
I haven't done mine for years now. Unless it was to rub into Richie's face I was older, but that's not celebrating. Just being a dick.
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Shit usually doesn't work out, but at least you want to be here and you are here. That's something so. Congrats instead. ( Clementine knows the world he comes from is- It's an ugly and violent one.
They should get to stay if they want to, but it doesn't work like that. She does laugh at that. )
Definitely doesn't count. I think there's at least supposed to be a cake.
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From experience? We realize that nothing we do matters, that everything here doesn't matter but also can't be ignored, and then we pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off and keep going.
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This place could have mattered to some though, you know? Even if we don't get to keep it.
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[ She'd lost Steve, after all. Not that she'd ever had Steve. And Bucky had left, and Wanda, whom she'd never gotten to know as well as she'd wanted. Natasha has gone home multiple times. Even Peggy has come and gone and come back again. People she's loved, people she's liked, people where she's felt no affection at all or even the opposite. That's how Wonderland is.
He'd lost people, too. She remembers his brother, though not as well as he probably does. She suspects his brother is in his thoughts more than his flippant mention suggests. ]
If you're not going to keep going, it looks like you chose a good place to do it. At least the hellhole has booze
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You're sweet, though I'll be honest. I've got a whole Peter Pan thing going. I don't want to keep growing up.
[But it wasn't as easy as Peter and it didn't matter if Richie wasn't there.]
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Fair enough. Birthdays aren't the only occasions for baked goods, though. If you ever catch me in the kitchen, feel free to make requests.
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[ alas, that observance was localized to the state of nebraska in his (original) time. this is the first he's heard of it. ]
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In school they'd have us plant a tree along the edge of the playground. There was a whole row of the, all sickly and limp and they never did really grow. Some celebration.
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[ it sounds ludicrous to his ears, but the well being of the environment was never on his radar. ]
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