Seth Gecko (
screwedontight) wrote in
entranceway2018-03-03 08:57 pm
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video; open to comm or action
[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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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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[And it's what he kept trying to hold on to, the belief that one day Richie would be back. Even if he never did, it's a hope that will help him through this.]
You talk like that and I'll end up bringing you a cake. Even if it's not your birthday.
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I hope he does. ( Even if he won't remember her, Seth deserves to have his brother back. Her smirk slips into a smile. )
It's not. My birthday's not until November.
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Doesn't mean there shouldn't have cake. I mean, come on. Not like we age so why does it matter how we have cake or why?
[Because that made it okay, right? Just looking out for one another because they were part of the Wonderland can be home team.]
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( Clementine pushes herself up off of the roof with a sigh, finishing her cup off completely. She never pours much in there, but it still leaves her feeling all tingly. )
And I'm putting a big fucking candle on top, because I can.
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[He would be really upset if she did, truth be told, much as he likes to pretend he doesn't care.]
Much better a choice than like a dozen or more small ones. Never can blow those out right. Dulce de leche.
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( It's said with a soft smile, because she can tell he cares even if it's easier to pretend like he doesn't. )
What's Dulce de leche?
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[Which he doesn't believe, but he can't help but to imagine. He thinks about a lot of shit that Wonderland could send to try and kill him.]
It's my favorite kind of cake, and now I'm thinking about it. It's a caramel type thing that they put on a cake made from like different kinds of milk.