it's been the ruin of many a poor boy [open.]

[awooligan]

♥ Who: Clifford Norman, OTA!
♥ Where: wherever tbh...
♥ When: August 1 and general early August.
♥ What: Cliff arrives to do typical intro log stuff and be frustrated.
♥ Rating: uhh PG-13 for language? and probably underage smoking at some point.

[ a. the wrong world. ]

[He’d had the plan to move out solidly in mind until recently, but…somehow this wasn’t quite what he’d pictured. After being led to housing by the welcome wagon, Cliff had waited out the helpful robot before slinking away from the open street to somewhere he can quietly freak the fuck out in peace. Even in the alternate reality he suddenly had a second life’s worth of memories of, he’d only heard stories about some corrupted-but-harmless AI, nothing like a whole society….not that that’s his biggest issue right now. He doesn’t know nearly enough about science or magic to figure out why the hell he remembered two versions of his life or why he was a wolfboy from the middle of nowhere with shitty father figures in both of them. That just doesn’t seem fair?

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, shakes his head like it will disperse those thoughts, and sets off again. Maybe if he got the lay of the land, he'd have an easier time getting a handle on things. At least he can feel being an Animal Person, and know that if he wanted to right now, he could be a wolf before his next step hit, and that’s knowing more than nothing! Along that thought, he was wearing Oscar’s hoodie and he had that bag of gummies he'd just started. Undeniably real. But the hoodie had existed in that other world, too, even though he'd never gotten tangled with “just some guy” that was a magnet for trouble. And…]

Huh. Well, that was the most unbelievable part of all that.

[In his pocket, the push of his finger against a figurine’s ear assures him that it is also pretty damn real. Didn’t hate that, no matter how confusing it is. The circumstances surrounding this place and that other one, though...]

Christ. You save a guy’s life a couple times and they want to upgrade you to saving two worlds?

[Because he didn't have enough of a headache.]


[ b. the wrong foot. ]

[Contemplating his newly realized existential crisis, he doesn't have the mental fortitude to figure out who’s in charge and kick their ass. Instead, the redhead resigns himself to pretend-scrolling through his not-an-earth-phone while his eyes -- more animal than human, if someone were to inspect them -- and scowl do the job of telegraphing his mood for him even from where he's hiding under his hood.

It could be that simple, just his glare accidentally finding someone who didn't deserve it and a miscommunication running wild from there, or it could be that while he's pretending to be distracted by his phone, he's actually distracted with his thoughts enough that he comes too close to someone passing the other way and bumps into them. He jolts back with tight fists and an arm lifted like a shield between himself and the stranger. As ready to fight as he might seem and sound, it's possible to notice that he's on guard rather than being aggressive.]

Hey, watch it -- !


[ c. the wrong attitude. ]

This sucks.

[Cliff plops onto the bench with a truly impressive sigh. That feeling before he’d woken up… Even with as much as he loves his mom and brother, the fact that he still had to hold a part of himself back means that it had been so completely, overwhelmingly alien. Comforting and safe in the moment, but now?]

Fucking tired of people messing with my head…

[This really, really sucks.

Miserably, he notes that he should be rationing the few supplies that had come with him, but he deserves the sugar, dammit! Cliff drags the bag of gummi bears out and starts to eat them with the enthusiasm of a man on death row. He starts each one by biting its head off.]


[ d. the wrong...card?! ]

[idk man it’s the wildcard option, hit me up if you want to work something out!]

Comments

ssshhhh you didn't see that

[unpocoloco]

[He draws himself in as well. He doesn't think anything of it. They're just two people who like and need their space in a place that wants more than that.]

Pretty impressive.

[He sighs, smiles, and folds his arms around himself.]

I thought I could get away with that for a while. When I was in Hell, that is. The most I'd handled any kind of weapon was once when I was a kid and the revolucionarios were rolling through. I held the gun, panicked, dropped it, didn't touch anything again for the rest of my life. Five months in Hell and I caved. And everybody I knew was smug about it.

[awooligan]

[Five months. That's pretty impressive, really. He'd only been able to hold out for two months before circumstances and guilt had him telling Coco what he was. Things with Oscar had been shot from the beginning. But he had sixteen years under his belt when it came to everyone else in Podunk, and maybe he can do better this time. It isn't the same situation, of course, but still. It leads to him imagining Oscar with a shitty grin, the kind Cliff himself was more suited to wearing, and giving him an 'I told you so' if he ever told his mom and it turned out she already knew, or something. Ugh.]

Like you were an idiot to think the way you did... [Anyway.] Revolucionarios -- you mean like people trying to get you to join the war?

[A Héctor that had to deal with a war... Nope, can't picture it. Somehow, the tortures of Hell and being killed so many times seemed like a smaller thing to deal with than going out to a battlefield and watching everyone around you die, no matter the side. Like hell he knows, though. The Herald fights might have been tough and crowded, but there had also been a lot of safety measures in place, magic, and healers to fall back on. No one to be a huge asshole about it.]

[unpocoloco]

[He laughs, both amused and bitter at once.]

Yeah, pretty much. So crazy to not want to hurt anybody! Jerks.

[The worst thing was that they were right, in the end. If he'd taken care of things sooner... Well. He had been an idiot.]

But yeah. The fighting in the revolution. Better the revolucionarios than the soldados, mind you, but I just... didn't have the nerve either way. Kind of cowardly, if I'm being honest. Earned that as a big old scar in me. But, at the time, in Santa Cecilia, it was usually peaceful enough you could get away with it. Not nearly as bad as other places. If either side went through town, I kept my head down, kept my mouth shut, played what I was told to play and that was it. Usually.

[awooligan]

[Yeah, it's extra a bitch when they're right. Turns out you didn't have to go through that suffering? Wow! Amazing! Thanks, that doesn't fucking help.]

I feel like not wanting to go to war or kill people isn't cowardly, but what the fuck do I know?

[unpocoloco]

[He bobs his head side to side. Then has to fix his hat.]

I guess it was kind of... I should have done something? Tried to help or... I don't know, cared about the way things were going more than I did.

But, it could've just as easily been that God was an asshole. A lot of the sins there could get really arbitrary and stupid.

[awooligan]

[That's still dumb, but...he gets it. Even when he did do things, it never felt like enough. Always getting more than he gave. He thinks about how, if he'd had the memories of his life as an Animal Person, he might have been able to do more for Coco when she was grabbed. Maybe he could have kept her from being hurt, with the experience he had.]

Don't even want to know what he'd come up with for me... [Most of his crimes were so petty, but he sure did...kill some monsters that had been people. Become something of a monster himself.] Bet the guy my mom married would be real happy to help make a list, though.

...I guess maybe I shouldn't be admitting that, since I'm dating Coco, but it's not like you thought I was that great a kid anyway.

[They sure did have a...time...yesterday. Plus all the illicit substance seeking.]

[unpocoloco]

Wouldn't make it right. You don't deserve to be there.

[He doesn't even look as he says that. He doesn't need to. Maybe God could come up with a list, he can't really doubt that. But it didn't make any of it fair.

For the rest, he looks, a brow lifting.]

What makes you think I thought you were a bad kid? You're no saint, but I wouldn't want to talk to one anyway, and more importantly, I already know just from talking with you now that you wouldn't ever want to hurt anyone. That counts for a lot. And you care for Coco.

This guy. Your stepfather. He doesn't take to you?

[awooligan]

[In contrast, his brows furrow. What...wouldn't have made Héctor think he's a bad kid? And the not wanting the hurt anyone... He sure did throw Carl across the kitchen and almost accidentally choked out Oscar right after. "Want" didn't matter much if you lost control and did it anyway.

Cliff rolls his eyes and runs his hands forward through his hair again, letting out a loud sigh.]

Carl. Nah, not for a while. He's not my problem anymore, don't worry about it.

[unpocoloco]

Carl.

[He understands that impulse. He barely liked to call Nekane's family their family.]

Well good riddance to him then. [He's not unaware of the irony of him saying this. But it's not like it's not true for him too. Coco had deserved better.] If he isn't going to be any good of a father to you then he's not worth your time. His opinions are worth even less. Making a list... I've never heard about any family doing that that wasn't terrible in some way shape or form. And I've heard about a good number.

[awooligan]

[Hey, takes one to know one...? No. Even if he hadn't returned -- and this one hadn't -- he was still a better father to Coco than Carl had ever been to him. Even when they got along, there were moments followed by a lie meant to reassure and quiet him.

He sounds bored when he speaks again.]

Santa Claus does it, doesn't he? Someone should tell Mrs. Claus. [It wasn't a big deal.] Don't get me wrong, I agree with you. Just wish my mom and brother felt as great about it as I do.

[unpocoloco]

[He snorts.]

Maybe someone should!

[His brief mirth fades though.]

...They didn't know. [That's tough. For a lot of reasons.]

They might be feeling betrayed. They might be... they might feel a loss. But, you shouldn't think that it's not for the better. Not just for you, but for them too.

Men like that... beings like that... they don't change. They don't get better. You can't actually fix anything, whether you're quiet or you push back. You... you take the hits. And you might think that it's about you. But It's not. Because when you're not there to take the hits, they always find someone else and find some excuse. They'll hurt a stranger, starve their dog, beat their children. They take their spouses and leave them dead or wanting to die. They'll find friends and lovers and lay waste to them.

[He stares ahead, unseeing. He might as well be someplace else.]

You take those hits... you tell yourself... it's just you. It's fine if it's you. But one day it's not. One day you're not there or they get in a mood or they... they find a new way to hurt you. And they hurt someone you love. And there is nothing... nothing... worse than the way that feels.

[He draws a breath, blinks, and scrubs his face.]

So don't. Don't feel guilty. Be glad for them too. They might not understand yet, but they will. Someday.

[awooligan]

[He goes quiet. He holds his breath to make sure, even if after a while it makes him feel his heart behind his eyes. Good. Let it be there, so maybe it would block tears from welling up. He hates this. He hates hearing how obvious it must seem to everyone else, how if he was just a little smarter he could have avoided all the pain he'd caused and been caused. He hates thinking about what might have happened if Héctor was right about the future they avoided, like he was about everything from before. He hates that he can't figure out how he'd known immediately, or what it was that had given away enough information. He hates Carl for making him hate so much.

Finally he has to take a breath, which he manages to keep steady. It's fine. He was gone now.]

Lot of Carls down in Hell? ...Good. But I'm done talking about this, man.

[unpocoloco]

[He's quiet for a long moment. He turns his own memories over in his head. When he speaks, it's hardly above a whisper.]

...Sorry. Not my place.

Shitty topic anyway. Don't know why I can't...

[Just let it go. Forget about it. Something, anything.]

How about... we pretend the last, I don't know, several minutes? Lets pretend we sat in really awkward silence. Or told some very stupid jokes. Just, awful, terrible jokes. The worst imaginable. Or you could tell me to stuff it. All of those would be way better.

[awooligan]

[Despite himself, the suggestion gets him to laugh, and he loses some of that tension that had built up and screamed for him to leave. God. That's so stupid. He and Oscar really would get along, he thinks.]

It's not that big a deal. Just don't want to talk about it anymore. [Sort of helped. Made both of them feel like shit, but that's to be expected.] Not that we were talking about anything. Thanks.

[For not understanding and affirming that thing he absolutely didn't talk around, and for agreeing to move on.]

Listen, I'm going to die if I don't have another smoke right now, so I'm going to need your foot again to make up for not rationing better.

[But hey, he offers Héctor another one, too! He's a kind soul.]

[unpocoloco]

[He's glad to hear the laugh. He's glad the boy can laugh. It makes him feel a little less shitty too.

He manages a faint smile.]

De nada. I'll take that thanks for doing nothing at all. I am pretty fantastic.

[He grins. Then laughs.]

Ay dios, that makes two of us. [He slides his foot over and takes up the offered cigarette. He offers a light and then lights his own.] Sweet mercy.