[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 20 2011, 06:20:18 UTC
[Pokey was holding a cup of coffee when he heard this call on the phone.
That cup? Is now out of his hand and neatly smashed on the tile of the kitchen. For his part, Pokey hasn't bothered to move either. Just standing there in the kitchen. Dully. Not thinking.
He had wanted this. Since he'd gotten here, he'd wanted Picky to show up, hadn't he?
At first he had. As time had gone on, as he'd cared about more people and lost them, had seen how dangerous it was...the more and more he hoped his little brother would never show up.
But now here they were. He was here.
It takes Pokey a moment more before he moves over to the phone and filters the call.]
Shut up Picky. Shut up right now. Don't say another word about who you are to anyone.
[phone][Filtered]imjustpickyOctober 20 2011, 06:28:57 UTC
...Pokey?
[That's his brother. That's Pokey. It couldn't be anyone else, not with shouting like that.]
Pokey! It's you! IT'S YOU!
[He had waited and waited and waited and sometimes he had doubted but finally his brother was back, and...]
...w-what? What do you mean?
[More joy wants to erupt from him, but he's tamping it back down, and quickly. This isn't the kind of reunion he had imagined. Something feels wrong about it all.]
B-but I don't know where I am! And you're here? But.. you left, a-and...
[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 20 2011, 06:32:16 UTC
No. Quit it.
[Do you hear it Picky? Underneath the usual irritation and grumpiness, there's a trace of fear there. He wants you here, and he doesn't. God. What is he going to do.]
This place is super dangerous. You got it. You can't let anyone know you know me.
[A pause as Pokey breathes lightly, trying to collect himself.]
Alright. I want you to find some mail or go outside and tell me the address. Can you do that, Picky? Find the address for the house you're in.
[phone][Filtered]imjustpickyOctober 20 2011, 06:42:13 UTC
[There's normal angry Pokey, and then there's serious angry Pokey. This is the latter. He hadn't forgotten that. Some things go bone deep.]
Okay. Okay, I won't.
[He swallows hard, and shifts the phone receiver from one ear to the other.]
It's dangerous? It's... creepy, but it doesn't look dangerous.
...just a sec.
[And the receiver is set down with a clatter. Pattering feet can be heard running away, and after a little under a minute of silence, Picky returns.]
7132 Brooks Lane. I'm at 7132 Brooks Lane. I saw it on a letter.
Where are you, Pokey? Are you nearby?
[He dares to get excited again, and to let it come through in his voice. Even if Pokey was being really serious and really demanding... well, this wasn't too different from how things used to work.]
[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 20 2011, 06:44:35 UTC
Good. Good.
[Pokey taps his fingers anxiously against the wall as he waits for Picky to find the address. And grimaces. Shit. That's on the other side of town, practically.]
I'm at 502 Ricardo. It's on the other side of town.
Look. Just....stay there and don't do anything dumb. I'm coming over.
[phone][Filtered]godisachildOctober 21 2011, 04:03:48 UTC
Oh no not breakfast!
...A bit bigger. Yeah. Just...wait there.
[Can you hear the mock-quivering in his voice Picky? Good lord, breakfast. Pokey's actually kind of forgotten what it's like to whine about something as unimportant as that. Not that he still doesn't find other unimportant things to whine about.
It'll take a little bit, but he eventually gets there and starts to knock ont he door.]
[phone] - [action]imjustpickyOctober 21 2011, 04:25:00 UTC
[More whining protest died in his throat. His brother had a way of making him feel even smaller than he already was.
But he had grumbling left in him.]
Fine, I'll save the oatmeal for you...
[When Pokey finally arrives, he'll find Picky had been waiting right by the door. He had gone right there, after not-mom had made him "go and get dressed for school." Two and a half knocks in, and he threw the door open.]
You're here! Finally!
[Despite all the seriousness of the phone call, and all the weirdness? Picky is grinning. Aside from having grown a few inches and completely unfitting clothing, he's the same little brother that had always been.]
[It's seeing you Picky, and how you've grown, that he realizes a lot of things.
The first is just how surreal it is to see you. For you it was a year. For him, it was centuries. And in a weird way you were so cemented as just a memory at this point that it was hard to remember being near you before, or what it was like to have been such. It's like he's dreaming, or walking through one, and he's expecting to wake up any moment.
The other is the fact that time has passed. He's been gone a year and you've been...you've been left alone to deal with their parents. And he just wants to throw his pride away and ask you. Have you been alright? What's going on? Have you been eating properly, have you been getting bullied, are you doing okay for yourself and with school and not slacking off so you can actually get out of that house when you're old enough and can go somewhere in life?
But he pushes it down, as always. He just gives a very small, quick smile that comes and fades quickly before trying to come in.]Yeah, yeah I'm here. It's just
( ... )
[A year is still a long time when you're 8, soon to be 9. In his limited experience, his brother had been gone forever. Even if he wasn't... totally the same as when he left, even if he was tinged blueish, this was still his big brother.
Questions could come later. Panic could wait. He was going to be happy now.]
You're here. Finally...
[Not going to stop smiling, nope. Never.]
Yeah. I'm fine. Yeah! Of course I'm fine.
[The smile even gets a little proud. And it was about to move on to borderline cocky when the drone-dad's voice rang out.]
"Picky! Close that door! I don't pay those bills so you can heat all of Mayfield!"
[...and it's like a switch has flicked. His shoulders rise, his smile turns into a grimace, and he's quickly motioning for Pokey to come in. And he really makes sure to shut the door behind them. It wasn't even fully conscious. It was latent survival reflex.]
Yes. Pokey is happy. He can't voice it, won't voice it; it's rare when Pokey has ever voiced his happiness. And he won't risk it now, not with how unreal everything seems at the moment. Doesn't want to risk it just shattering right in front of him?
If it's a dream? He wants to stay asleep, please.
He has to fight back another small smile at the little bit of confidence you're showing. Those may be the times were Pokey acts the most annoyed, but really? Those are also the times where he's the most proud of you, Picky.]
Yeah yeah yeah. You better be, stupid, and-
[Pokey just frowns. He was always the more disobedient of the brothers, often by choice, and especially if it meant drawing more attention and punishment towards him and away from his little brother. He knew how to obey, but the sense of doing what he was asked immediately never came to him as well as it did to Picky.
Still, he enters and takes a seat on one of the chairs.]
Well.
Welcome to Mayfield.
[And even if that doesn't explain anything to Picky
( ... )
[Picky remains quiet, following after Pokey. He takes a seat nearby, glancing anxiously to the entrance of the room. No not-dad and not-mom or not-brother is going to come wandering in, right? He doesn't want anyone else here to mess the whole moment up.]
...They keep saying I've always been here.
[There's... something in his brother's voice that he's not quite understanding. That wasn't a welcome-welcome. That was... what was it?
[Pokey sighs a little, rubbing his temple as he tries to think.]
Yeah, they're....let's say programmed to repeat that crap. They believe it.
They'll be gone eventually. Actual people will replace them.
[Pokey thinks for a moment on how to answer that. Really, how is the town not dangerous? He's been here so long that it's kind of hard describing it to someone who hasn't been. An outsider.
And it's so weird thinking of you as an outsider, Picky.]
...Two things.
About every month or every other month, and especially on holidays, something will....happen. The people running the town will cause something to happen, and it's always bad and almost always dangerous. People can get killed Picky.
[No. He won't tell you people come back when they die yet. Because even though he thinks that's enough to hopefully keep you practical in what you might try to do...he doesn't want to reveal that information that dying just ends with waking up the next morning.]
And then there's the town. Most of the people are....good. [It feels so weird
( ... )
Programmed? [He leans forward and gapes. Behind those overgrown bangs, his eyes are wide.] Are they robots? And... replace? What do you mean? Where do they go, if they get replaced?
[This situation is strange. And despite what he picked up during his brief time on the phones, he trusts Pokey to...
Well, this isn't the kind of time that Pokey would lie and bluster to make himself look more awesome, right? This was too important for that, right? He wanted to trust his brother.]
...killed?!
[That's even worse than the robots. Now he's pulling back, looking scared. He listens to the rest, giving little nods all the while.
And then there's a long pause, before he nods rapidly to show that he understands. Even if he's not completely sure that he does. Lots of people didn't like Pokey, in his experience...
...but last he heard from his brother, he'd gone off to the big city and done... weird things...]
I get it. It's like before. You're... a big shot? Right? So everyone's got an eye on you? Especially bad guys?
I don't know, Picky. They just do. No, they're not robots that I know of, but eventually real people will show up in their places.
[And the fact that he doesn't know what happens to drones, especially people he know who've been droned? Bugs him. A lot.
Pokey just nods his head.]
Right. They mean serious business here, Picky. This isn't like the crap going on back home. They're real honest to god villains who don't care about how bad they hurt you, they're going to do it anyway.
[Wow. Pokey isn't really sure how to even begin to address this. Time has clearly passed, but Picky didn't know who he really was? Ness never really filled him in? He guesses he can understand that, considering how kind-hearted Ness is, that he wouldn't want to tell Picky what a jackass his older brother really was.
The problem now is if Pokey can bring himself to tell his little brother that. To tell him the truth on the matter, about how god-awful he was, or lie for his sake.
Picky deserves to know what actually happened. Pokey fully believes that.]
[He's smart! He totally gets it! And he needs to remind Pokey that he's smart. It's been a while.]
Why would they have... [...have you here? Me here?] ...have us here? All that stuff back home, it's done. Ness and his friends... fixed it.
[Ness had explained a few things. Very few, and very vaguely. There were bad aliens, he beat them, and then Pokey wrote Ness a really mean letter... Picky knew that there was something really big that he hadn't been told. He had spent that year filling the gap with wild imaginings and bizarre assumptions.
Like, maybe Pokey was with the mob. That's what you did in the big city when you were getting up to bad stuff, right?]
I knew it! I knew you were doing something big! So... so I can't tell anyone who I am? Anyone? What do I tell them?
[This was totally confirming his mob theory. Totally winning out over the one that had to do with aliens and the meteor and a hive full of space-bees...]
That cup? Is now out of his hand and neatly smashed on the tile of the kitchen. For his part, Pokey hasn't bothered to move either. Just standing there in the kitchen. Dully. Not thinking.
He had wanted this. Since he'd gotten here, he'd wanted Picky to show up, hadn't he?
At first he had. As time had gone on, as he'd cared about more people and lost them, had seen how dangerous it was...the more and more he hoped his little brother would never show up.
But now here they were. He was here.
It takes Pokey a moment more before he moves over to the phone and filters the call.]
Shut up Picky. Shut up right now. Don't say another word about who you are to anyone.
Reply
[That's his brother. That's Pokey. It couldn't be anyone else, not with shouting like that.]
Pokey! It's you! IT'S YOU!
[He had waited and waited and waited and sometimes he had doubted but finally his brother was back, and...]
...w-what? What do you mean?
[More joy wants to erupt from him, but he's tamping it back down, and quickly. This isn't the kind of reunion he had imagined. Something feels wrong about it all.]
B-but I don't know where I am! And you're here? But.. you left, a-and...
Reply
[Do you hear it Picky? Underneath the usual irritation and grumpiness, there's a trace of fear there. He wants you here, and he doesn't. God. What is he going to do.]
This place is super dangerous. You got it. You can't let anyone know you know me.
[A pause as Pokey breathes lightly, trying to collect himself.]
Alright. I want you to find some mail or go outside and tell me the address. Can you do that, Picky? Find the address for the house you're in.
Reply
Okay. Okay, I won't.
[He swallows hard, and shifts the phone receiver from one ear to the other.]
It's dangerous? It's... creepy, but it doesn't look dangerous.
...just a sec.
[And the receiver is set down with a clatter. Pattering feet can be heard running away, and after a little under a minute of silence, Picky returns.]
7132 Brooks Lane. I'm at 7132 Brooks Lane. I saw it on a letter.
Where are you, Pokey? Are you nearby?
[He dares to get excited again, and to let it come through in his voice. Even if Pokey was being really serious and really demanding... well, this wasn't too different from how things used to work.]
Reply
[Pokey taps his fingers anxiously against the wall as he waits for Picky to find the address. And grimaces. Shit. That's on the other side of town, practically.]
I'm at 502 Ricardo. It's on the other side of town.
Look. Just....stay there and don't do anything dumb. I'm coming over.
Reply
[Then he makes an uncomfortable, whiny noise.]
But...
[No, there was no point in arguing once Pokey made up his mind.]
Get here quick, before I have to eat breakfast.
Reply
...A bit bigger. Yeah. Just...wait there.
[Can you hear the mock-quivering in his voice Picky? Good lord, breakfast. Pokey's actually kind of forgotten what it's like to whine about something as unimportant as that. Not that he still doesn't find other unimportant things to whine about.
It'll take a little bit, but he eventually gets there and starts to knock ont he door.]
Reply
But he had grumbling left in him.]
Fine, I'll save the oatmeal for you...
[When Pokey finally arrives, he'll find Picky had been waiting right by the door. He had gone right there, after not-mom had made him "go and get dressed for school." Two and a half knocks in, and he threw the door open.]
You're here! Finally!
[Despite all the seriousness of the phone call, and all the weirdness? Picky is grinning. Aside from having grown a few inches and completely unfitting clothing, he's the same little brother that had always been.]
Reply
The first is just how surreal it is to see you. For you it was a year. For him, it was centuries. And in a weird way you were so cemented as just a memory at this point that it was hard to remember being near you before, or what it was like to have been such. It's like he's dreaming, or walking through one, and he's expecting to wake up any moment.
The other is the fact that time has passed. He's been gone a year and you've been...you've been left alone to deal with their parents. And he just wants to throw his pride away and ask you. Have you been alright? What's going on? Have you been eating properly, have you been getting bullied, are you doing okay for yourself and with school and not slacking off so you can actually get out of that house when you're old enough and can go somewhere in life?
But he pushes it down, as always. He just gives a very small, quick smile that comes and fades quickly before trying to come in.]Yeah, yeah I'm here. It's just ( ... )
Reply
Questions could come later. Panic could wait. He was going to be happy now.]
You're here. Finally...
[Not going to stop smiling, nope. Never.]
Yeah. I'm fine. Yeah! Of course I'm fine.
[The smile even gets a little proud. And it was about to move on to borderline cocky when the drone-dad's voice rang out.]
"Picky! Close that door! I don't pay those bills so you can heat all of Mayfield!"
[...and it's like a switch has flicked. His shoulders rise, his smile turns into a grimace, and he's quickly motioning for Pokey to come in. And he really makes sure to shut the door behind them. It wasn't even fully conscious. It was latent survival reflex.]
Reply
Yes. Pokey is happy. He can't voice it, won't voice it; it's rare when Pokey has ever voiced his happiness. And he won't risk it now, not with how unreal everything seems at the moment. Doesn't want to risk it just shattering right in front of him?
If it's a dream? He wants to stay asleep, please.
He has to fight back another small smile at the little bit of confidence you're showing. Those may be the times were Pokey acts the most annoyed, but really? Those are also the times where he's the most proud of you, Picky.]
Yeah yeah yeah. You better be, stupid, and-
[Pokey just frowns. He was always the more disobedient of the brothers, often by choice, and especially if it meant drawing more attention and punishment towards him and away from his little brother. He knew how to obey, but the sense of doing what he was asked immediately never came to him as well as it did to Picky.
Still, he enters and takes a seat on one of the chairs.]
Well.
Welcome to Mayfield.
[And even if that doesn't explain anything to Picky ( ... )
Reply
...They keep saying I've always been here.
[There's... something in his brother's voice that he's not quite understanding. That wasn't a welcome-welcome. That was... what was it?
He sets his jaw and sits up straighter.]
Pokey. Why's this place dangerous?
Reply
Yeah, they're....let's say programmed to repeat that crap. They believe it.
They'll be gone eventually. Actual people will replace them.
[Pokey thinks for a moment on how to answer that. Really, how is the town not dangerous? He's been here so long that it's kind of hard describing it to someone who hasn't been. An outsider.
And it's so weird thinking of you as an outsider, Picky.]
...Two things.
About every month or every other month, and especially on holidays, something will....happen. The people running the town will cause something to happen, and it's always bad and almost always dangerous. People can get killed Picky.
[No. He won't tell you people come back when they die yet. Because even though he thinks that's enough to hopefully keep you practical in what you might try to do...he doesn't want to reveal that information that dying just ends with waking up the next morning.]
And then there's the town. Most of the people are....good. [It feels so weird ( ... )
Reply
[This situation is strange. And despite what he picked up during his brief time on the phones, he trusts Pokey to...
Well, this isn't the kind of time that Pokey would lie and bluster to make himself look more awesome, right? This was too important for that, right? He wanted to trust his brother.]
...killed?!
[That's even worse than the robots. Now he's pulling back, looking scared. He listens to the rest, giving little nods all the while.
And then there's a long pause, before he nods rapidly to show that he understands. Even if he's not completely sure that he does. Lots of people didn't like Pokey, in his experience...
...but last he heard from his brother, he'd gone off to the big city and done... weird things...]
I get it. It's like before. You're... a big shot? Right? So everyone's got an eye on you? Especially bad guys?
Reply
[And the fact that he doesn't know what happens to drones, especially people he know who've been droned? Bugs him. A lot.
Pokey just nods his head.]
Right. They mean serious business here, Picky. This isn't like the crap going on back home. They're real honest to god villains who don't care about how bad they hurt you, they're going to do it anyway.
[Wow. Pokey isn't really sure how to even begin to address this. Time has clearly passed, but Picky didn't know who he really was? Ness never really filled him in? He guesses he can understand that, considering how kind-hearted Ness is, that he wouldn't want to tell Picky what a jackass his older brother really was.
The problem now is if Pokey can bring himself to tell his little brother that. To tell him the truth on the matter, about how god-awful he was, or lie for his sake.
Picky deserves to know what actually happened. Pokey fully believes that.]
( ... )
Reply
[He's smart! He totally gets it! And he needs to remind Pokey that he's smart. It's been a while.]
Why would they have... [...have you here? Me here?] ...have us here? All that stuff back home, it's done. Ness and his friends... fixed it.
[Ness had explained a few things. Very few, and very vaguely. There were bad aliens, he beat them, and then Pokey wrote Ness a really mean letter... Picky knew that there was something really big that he hadn't been told. He had spent that year filling the gap with wild imaginings and bizarre assumptions.
Like, maybe Pokey was with the mob. That's what you did in the big city when you were getting up to bad stuff, right?]
I knew it! I knew you were doing something big! So... so I can't tell anyone who I am? Anyone? What do I tell them?
[This was totally confirming his mob theory. Totally winning out over the one that had to do with aliens and the meteor and a hive full of space-bees...]
Reply
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