Clifford Norman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
awooligan) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hugtopia_logs2021-07-31 11:14 pm
awooligan) wrote in hugtopia_logs2021-07-31 11:14 pm
it's been the ruin of many a poor boy [open.]
♥ 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!]
♥ 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!]
no subject
Oh, come on. Making sure you're taken care of sometimes is just normal. What kind of jerks are you meeting here that your standards are that low?
no subject
[There was a quick shake of her head. No jerks here!!] Most people here have been very nice. It's... different.
no subject
And. Ugh. This kid!!! She's so casually concerning, it hurts his heart.]
...Good. I'm glad you're better off here. You shouldn't have to deal with anything like that.
no subject
[And she kept not entirely understanding. Not wanting to linger on that (because it often led to people making sad faces at her), Vianca puffed up a little and turned back to him with renewed purpose.]
But it is the same for you. If you need help, you can come here.
no subject
Duh. You're my safety buddy. This place seems pretty cool, too.
no subject
Thank you. Someday it will have more books... But it is okay if you don't read a lot, it does not have to be only for reading.
no subject
Yeah, let's see... [Cliff abandons the poster board's side to instead plop himself carelessly on the couch, falling backwards onto it over an arm.] Oh, yeah. I could nap on this thing, for sure.
[Useful!! ...Maybe very useful later that day, when he feels so agitated and distrusting that he doesn't look into picking a house and he has nowhere to sleep for the night. People being able to look in through the windows was no good, but he can use his hoodie as a makeshift curtain, if he has to. Hmm.]
no subject
I made sure they were good napping couches. [A requirement when so many friends were sleepy people.]
... The door is usually unlocked as well, you are welcome by any time. There's a blanket on the one in the corner.
no subject
Oh. Thanks. [Phew. But still...] Is that safe to do?
no subject
But was it... safe? Vianca nodded.]
Yes?
I did not have any issues when I lived here.
no subject
Vianca seems sensible, though. She made sure the couches were good for naps -- and more seriously, she was running her own business.]
Yeah. Okay, thanks, sorry. I'm still pretty on edge from the whole magically kidnapped thing.