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[scotch_egg]

[somewhat accidental, an upshot as he's holding the device loose in his hand. He is staring at the "toll booth" in front of the portal. Suitcase beside him as if he'd only just arrived. Looking a little healthier saved for the usual hollow eyed look of someone who believes sleep is a four letter word.]

Fuck me.

Fuck me. Fuck me.

[he hasn't gone through it yet, but then he can't seem to move from the spot. He sucks in a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair]

Bloody hell.

Comments

[scotch_egg]

Aye... Metaphorical. [he caught that.]

Alright, Whitly?

[not_as_i_do]

Let's just say, if I were in a worse mood, I'd tell you 'I'm fine, piss off'.

[he gives him a knowing look and a smile, putting air quotes around it ... trying to make a joke out of what was possibly one of the worst first impressions he's ever made. he clears his throat]

In my first memory, I was ... chained. To something.

[he's only willing to admit the details he can come to grips with. potentially being some sort of prisoner is ... difficult stuff]

[scotch_egg]

Well that's shite. [he sighed and dragged his suitcase over to a nearby bench, sitting heavily]

These memories... I don't understand them. Why us? Why now? What do they really mean?

[not_as_i_do]

I've been wondering that, too. Scanning through the network, trying to see if anyone's figured anything out. But it's mostly just people sharing things they learn, or asking questions. Normally I'd go to that bureau, but ... the very few interactions I've had with them so far suggest they aren't really up for answering questions.

[beat]

I mean, they could mean nothing at all, donut holes, but that'd be terribly nihilistic, and I personally like to think what we do has meaning to someone, even if it's just the people we know. The lives we touch.

[scotch_egg]

Oh no, they're something. You'd be a fool to think they're just random daydreams or fantasies. The fact that they're catching-- The fact that they seem to change things. People seem to change. They feel real don't they? Like they're actually part of you. I don't know but there's something almost sinister happening. I just wish I knew what it was.

[not_as_i_do]

Mm.

[excuse him while he mulls all this over for a moment. and then:]

Catching. You mean, as in, you think that being Different might actually be some form of contagion?

[scotch_egg]

You tell me. There seem to be more than there were before and families are getting it. Me and my cousin, a woman and her son... It might just be isolated incidents but-- I don't know there's something odd here. Something that doesn't quite fit.

[not_as_i_do]

Families, hmm? ... Yes, that's certainly food for thought. I'd definitely be interested in delving into it a little deeper. Anyone else doing that yet? Of the Different, I mean, of course.

[scotch_egg]

No idea. Ask them. Do a little research of your own instead of wringing everyone else for information. [yes he's a little tetchy but it's as hot as Satan's arse out here and he's not in the mood]

[not_as_i_do]

Fair enough. [well, he knows when he's being dismissed] Sorry to have kept you.

[scotch_egg]

Nh. [He didn't like that. Couldn't say why. But there was something about it that just rubbed him the wrong way.

But never mind he had to get out of this heat sooner rather than later]

Whitly.

[and with that he ended the call]