(Untitled)

[i_heart_winona]

The door swung open and John staggered through, looking very, very tired

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[fighting_mad]

Plourr leans over the back of the sofa.

"Problems, John?"

[i_heart_winona]

"To say the least." John muttered around his hands. He let the hands fall. "Hey Plourr. And how are you?"

[fighting_mad]

"Better than you," she says, dryly. "What's the matter?"

[i_heart_winona]

"I got eaten by a bubble and now I have a twin brother named John who is exactly like me right down the the awesome blue eyes and straight over to the childhood memories and scars on faces and he's like a frelling clone!"

John said this all in one breath before pressing his fingers into his eyes again.

[fighting_mad]

"You were cloned?"

[i_heart_winona]

"Twinned, is the technical term, I believe." John corrected, blindly.

[fighting_mad]

She shakes her head stubbornly, moving around the sofa and sinking into an armchair. "Cloned. You didn't mean to be." The statement doesn't rise at the end, the way that a question ought to.

[i_heart_winona]

He just shrugged and muttered another quiet frell. "It just happened. Crazy scientist...crazy dying Leviathan full of dead creepies."

John sighed. "I'm not leaving Moya ever again."

[fighting_mad]

"It just happened? How does getting cloned just happen?" she asks, legs crossed and arm stretched across the back of the chair.

[i_heart_winona]

"Giant bubble ate me, Plourr." John growled. "A giant slurpy bubble thing thrown by the scientist of the crazy dead Leviathan dead people!"

[fighting_mad]

"John," she snaps. "Slow down. Remember: different universe."

[i_heart_winona]

"Just...big bubble!" He flailed. "It doesn't matter, it happened, they blew up."

[fighting_mad]

"Does this change anything?" she asks, letting him flail for a moment. "Is your clone staying on Moya with you?"

[i_heart_winona]

"Yes. Yes he is. Only he's not a clone." He interjected. "In fact, no one can tell the difference because there isn't one."

He sat up, pointing at a deep cut across his forehead. "Both have the same injuries, the same memories, and the same frelling rock, paper, scissors count!"

[fighting_mad]

Plourr shoots him a blank look. "Rock, paper, scissors?"

[i_heart_winona]

He waved the question away. "Forget it, it's a silly Earth game."