Wow, it sucks to be shacking it up with all these social butterflies when you're an introverted teenager who prefers miniatures and fantasy novels to real human conversation. Simon gets up from his spot on the floor, the short blond haircut a dead giveaway of his recent arrival, though it's grown out just a tad. He is wearing pink rubber gloves and Wade's accursed Grill Daddy apron, because unfortunately, that's all they have. While there is a sponge in Simon's left hand, he reaches over the countertop and grabs a blade from the knife rack with his right, pointing it in Lance's direction threateningly.]
Intruder! State your name and purpose for being here.
[Okay, this is... Nothing about this is what he expected. He couldn't tell exactly who was here due to the angle of the kitchen counter, just sensed a presence, and he presumed it was someone who typically lives here but... What even...?
Lance furrows his eyebrows, attention flickering to the knife, then Simon's face, then back; this is clearly a recent arrival, but not one he recognizes. And he's... Cleaning? But also so quick to jump to threats? It's a lot all at once, and Lance is torn between a few different ways to handle the situation, but right now there's quite a bit of distance between them and so he takes a cautious but not particularly deferential approach.]
Do Nate and Wade know you're here?
[Just gonna ignore the demands entirely, because he's not interested in giving the impression that he can be intimidated into doing anything.]
[That... Is said less like a twelve-year old who wants to be a Stormtrooper and more like... An actual twelve-year old.]
Wade's got a machete and at least two katanas. You think it'd be a good idea to let randos in with that kinda dangerous stuff layin' around?
[Simon tries to piece things together. Wade had only told him about one roommate, but as far as he knew, there were three rooms and the third had yet to have a person walk in or out of it.]
[Nothing about that response indicates whoever this is is lying, so Lance frowns a little and is about to follow up with a question of who he is, but then Simon asks if he lives here as well and Lance can't help but scrunch his nose slightly at the thought.]
No. I definitely don't live here.
[What a wild time that would be. But okay, he's getting a better idea of the situation if this is a new arrival and someone Wade and Nate know is here; one of both of them must've offered to let him stay with them. So he decides now is an okay time to explain more, and offers--]
[He tilts his head at that. He had scoured the network before asking those questions via text, and so he's almost positive-]
Lance... Sweets?
[Simon blinks several times, his eyes growing wide. Lance will notice a sharp change in his demeanor. The boy's shoulders loosen up and hunch down a peg.
He points to himself with the spongey-hand, voice losing all edge and attitude. Simon even gets a few suds on his apron because he's so startled.]
Simon.
Um, Laurent. It's me.
[He waves!!! Oh no. A soft, meek little gesture. The knife is being placed back where it had previously been residing.]
Wow. You look a lot different than I thought you would... Though come to think of it-
[The words are getting less attention from Lance than the gestures and body language are, but they're at least good signs and as soon as the knife is put away Lance relaxes a little and allows the actual content of what's being said to catch up and process.
And suddenly things are explained as he realizes who this is, raising his eyebrows slightly and giving a faintly amused expression at those comments.]
I get that a lot.
[That he looks different than expected. Only it really varies in what way, with Simon's admission of not knowing what he expected being one of them, so he takes that in stride as he wanders a few more careful steps into the apartment toward the kitchen table. His sneakers light up blue and green in little flashing patterns as he walks, and as he sets a plastic container on the table he offers a small smile in Simon's direction.]
[Guess who is getting closer because... He is excited to put a face to a name. Simon may not have many people he considers friends, but the few he does? He is wholly loyal to.]
Did you install the zippy-sparky mods all by yourself or did they just come like that?
[He means the lights.]
And oh! It's nice to meet you too.
[Actually nice to meet you.
Not just a platitude like the many times Simon has said that phrase since he got here.]
[Lance watches him approach, no longer particularly concerned Simon's going to stab him or anything, but he's been even more wary and nervous than usual since returning from the Aerie; despite that having faded a little by now, he's still somewhat cautious and tense.
But despite that, he smiles a bit more at the comments and the question, though he has to shake his head at the latter.]
Thanks. I didn't do anything; they came like this. Aren't they cool?
[He shifts his weight purposefully to make them light up again.]
You can program them to do different patterns too, but I haven't messed with that yet.
Hm. There's probably more cool stuff you could do to 'em-
[Like installing rocket launchers at the heels, or maybe something like the electric shoes he had back on the train. That gets Simon thinking- Even if he doesn't have his items here, perhaps there is a chance that he could recreate them himself.]
But I'd get it if you wouldn't want things lookin' too busy.
[Okay, inspecting shoes or not, this is a little weird and Lance takes a step back automatically.]
I get enough weird comments for the lights, I think I'll hold off on anything else for now. But you could probably get some and modify your own; that might be another good project.
[Like his miniatures. And speaking of distractions--]
I um, brought desserts, by the way. You're welcome to them.
[There's a lot, so should be plenty for Simon as well as Nate and Wade.]
[Simon looks up from his spot on the ground, confused. Isn't it normal to get all up in your friends' businesses like that? He and Grace were almost always physically close. The teen seems a little taken aback by that reaction, though he doesn't question it.]
Oh, but...
I'm guessin' those weren't supposed to be for me.
[Especially if Lance didn't know that he was here in the first place.]
Say, if you're not the other person who lives here...
Why is there an extra room? Come to think of it, I haven't seen anybody else go in or outta there.
[Oof, that's a question, and Lance's gaze flickers from Simon toward the hallway where the rooms are and then back.]
Have you asked Nate or Wade?
[Lance presumes the answer is no, or if he did they for some reason didn't tell him about Sam. Lance certainly isn't going to the one to broach that topic himself, so--]
As for the desserts, Wade and Nate will live if you have some; besides, it's not like there's a shortage. I can just make more.
[He nudges the container just a little toward the side of the table Simon is closest to, in hopes he'll be distracted by it.]
[Somehow, that reaction tells him that the answer to that question won't be easy or pleasant.]
No. Wade gave me a heads' up about his roommate named Nathan, but...
I, like, just met the guy. Like juuuust met him.
[He pauses, the gears turning in his twinky little rat head.]
He doesn't really come home often, does he?
[His nervous little heart begins to theorize. Was it somehow his fault? No, Nate hadn't even seemed to be aware of him.]
Are they fightin' or what? 'Cause, if it's the mess he was mad about, the whole place is clean now. I was gonna make a handy dandy visual guide because I reorganized everything, but... Y'know. No paper.
[He furrows his eyebrows just slightly at the conclusion, making note of the process of getting to it, but shakes his head a little.]
As far as I know they're not fighting, and I think Nate would've told me if they were, so don't worry.
[He's not sure Nate would've told him, but he's still pretty sure he would've. And even if he hadn't, Lance has a way of finding things out, so the information would've probably gotten back to him anyway.]
Nate just got a new job recently, and it has weird hours. He's been busy a lot. He'd commiserate with you over the lack of paper though; I know that's something that really annoys him about this world.
[And to try to get a bit more understanding of this situation--]
It's not a lie as that's where they both met, only it had been Simon's first day and well. He had created quite a few scenes.]
And hey, what's with the third degree? I'm the new guy around here.
[Lance will notice that Simon's right arm draws up and over the left elbow joint, squeezing hard. A nervous tic and a dead giveaway- Simon often will perform the same repeated gesture constantly to calm himself down.]
If anything, I should be the one askin' you guys all the questions.
[Definitely an obvious tic that he makes note of, and so adjusts his response accordingly.]
Do you have questions to ask?
[And he'll just open the container of vanilla brownies--not his usual baking choice, especially since cocoa is so expensive here and so they're not even chocolate, but there's a limit even for him on how many muffins one person should make--and take one, leaving the lid off in an invitation for Simon to grab one if he wants.]
[His mind races with the questions he's kept locked up in his head. Where do people go when they disappear? How old is the youngest member of the Displaced? Why is it that everybody else seems to be doing just fine and every other minute he constantly feels as though he's on the brink of-]
But, you still haven't said anything about that room.
There isn't a dead guy in there, right? Because, um, i-d-k if anyone cares about hygiene in this apartment, but? Bacteria? Gross? Plus there's the whole rigor mortis thing, and I haven't seen it, but just thinkin' about it gives me the heebie jeebies...
[Lance can practically see the gears turning, and it's no surprise that the room comes up again, but... The rambling is ridiculous but somewhat endearing all at once, and he can't help but smile a little.]
There's no dead guy. I can't tell you any details since it's really not my place to do so, but there's no dead body. Or an alive body, for that matter.
[Just, you know. For the record.]
It's just a room. You'll have to ask Nate or Wade for the whole story.
[This is like the Seven Stages of grief except it's just the 800 Tumultuous Emotions of Simon. He sounds exasperated, clanging both hands on the surface of the table.]
So you're tellin' me this whole time, I've been roughing it on the couch when there is a completely vacant room that I could've, y'know, at least slept on the floor of?
Because there are some really unusual situations that can happen here, and one is going on right now. It isn't just that there's an unclaimed room they refuse to let you stay in, I promise.
[He'd just tell Simon what's up if it weren't for how private Nate is about things, so that's going to have to be up to him.]
He is still as he processes, and while his brain would usually go a variety of places, he finds himself growing exhausted. Simon doesn't do well with uncertainty, as he's only okay with it in small doses. Little adventures away from the Apex Car were fun, but they all involved proper equipment and never lasted very long, and soon enough he'd be back into his organized and dimly lit room with all the bits and bobs that he uses to construct his own realities.]
Uh huh.
[It occurs to Simon that he must set himself on some kind of path. A steady road, so that he avoids stumbling and falling, so that he avoids this.
This constant, never-ending cycle of jittery unhappiness, of fear.
Unconsciously, his fingers hover over the Glow. Since he has now at least secured a safe place to stay and the next point of focus is a finding a job, he decides that the third step will be something he has always dreamed about and never quite gotten a good enough taste of.
The pursuit of power. Numbers are one thing, but the abilities of a god? That's a whole different beast entirely.]
[The reaction gives him pause, because it certainly doesn't seem like Simon's convinced. Lance watches him a moment, trying to get a read on him, and considers asking directly what he's thinking about; however, the gesture catches his attention and he decides a distraction might be a good idea for now.]
[Make no mistake, Simon was ecstatic to learn that he could generate electricity from the soles of his feet. Having his old shoes stripped from his body was a huge inconvenience, as they had helped compensate for his clumsiness, something that had only increased wildly as a result of his recent teenage growth spurt. It hasn't been long since Simon suddenly surpassed Grace in height.]
I mean, it's somethin'.
[Still, his hesitation comes from the notion that the slight generation of sparks and the ability to stick to surfaces may be the end all be all. In his mind however, that doesn't seem very god-like. In fact, it sounds like he's barely scratching the surface.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[A visitor, a guest.
Wow, it sucks to be shacking it up with all these social butterflies when you're an introverted teenager who prefers miniatures and fantasy novels to real human conversation. Simon gets up from his spot on the floor, the short blond haircut a dead giveaway of his recent arrival, though it's grown out just a tad. He is wearing pink rubber gloves and Wade's accursed Grill Daddy apron, because unfortunately, that's all they have. While there is a sponge in Simon's left hand, he reaches over the countertop and grabs a blade from the knife rack with his right, pointing it in Lance's direction threateningly.]
Intruder! State your name and purpose for being here.
And then... Begone.
[Simon squints further, as if to make a point.]
The tiles still need to be washed.
no subject
Lance furrows his eyebrows, attention flickering to the knife, then Simon's face, then back; this is clearly a recent arrival, but not one he recognizes. And he's... Cleaning? But also so quick to jump to threats? It's a lot all at once, and Lance is torn between a few different ways to handle the situation, but right now there's quite a bit of distance between them and so he takes a cautious but not particularly deferential approach.]
Do Nate and Wade know you're here?
[Just gonna ignore the demands entirely, because he's not interested in giving the impression that he can be intimidated into doing anything.]
no subject
[That... Is said less like a twelve-year old who wants to be a Stormtrooper and more like... An actual twelve-year old.]
Wade's got a machete and at least two katanas. You think it'd be a good idea to let randos in with that kinda dangerous stuff layin' around?
[Simon tries to piece things together. Wade had only told him about one roommate, but as far as he knew, there were three rooms and the third had yet to have a person walk in or out of it.]
Don't tell me you live here too.
no subject
No. I definitely don't live here.
[What a wild time that would be. But okay, he's getting a better idea of the situation if this is a new arrival and someone Wade and Nate know is here; one of both of them must've offered to let him stay with them. So he decides now is an okay time to explain more, and offers--]
I'm a friend of theirs. My name is Lance.
no subject
[He tilts his head at that. He had scoured the network before asking those questions via text, and so he's almost positive-]
Lance... Sweets?
[Simon blinks several times, his eyes growing wide. Lance will notice a sharp change in his demeanor. The boy's shoulders loosen up and hunch down a peg.
He points to himself with the spongey-hand, voice losing all edge and attitude. Simon even gets a few suds on his apron because he's so startled.]
Simon.
Um, Laurent. It's me.
[He waves!!! Oh no. A soft, meek little gesture. The knife is being placed back where it had previously been residing.]
Wow. You look a lot different than I thought you would... Though come to think of it-
[A beat.]
I don't know what I thought you'd look like.
no subject
And suddenly things are explained as he realizes who this is, raising his eyebrows slightly and giving a faintly amused expression at those comments.]
I get that a lot.
[That he looks different than expected. Only it really varies in what way, with Simon's admission of not knowing what he expected being one of them, so he takes that in stride as he wanders a few more careful steps into the apartment toward the kitchen table. His sneakers light up blue and green in little flashing patterns as he walks, and as he sets a plastic container on the table he offers a small smile in Simon's direction.]
It's nice to actually meet you in person, Simon.
no subject
[Guess who is getting closer because... He is excited to put a face to a name. Simon may not have many people he considers friends, but the few he does? He is wholly loyal to.]
Did you install the zippy-sparky mods all by yourself or did they just come like that?
[He means the lights.]
And oh! It's nice to meet you too.
[Actually nice to meet you.
Not just a platitude like the many times Simon has said that phrase since he got here.]
Like, for real, 'n everything.
no subject
But despite that, he smiles a bit more at the comments and the question, though he has to shake his head at the latter.]
Thanks. I didn't do anything; they came like this. Aren't they cool?
[He shifts his weight purposefully to make them light up again.]
You can program them to do different patterns too, but I haven't messed with that yet.
no subject
[Simon kneels down to take a better look.]
Hm. There's probably more cool stuff you could do to 'em-
[Like installing rocket launchers at the heels, or maybe something like the electric shoes he had back on the train. That gets Simon thinking- Even if he doesn't have his items here, perhaps there is a chance that he could recreate them himself.]
But I'd get it if you wouldn't want things lookin' too busy.
no subject
I get enough weird comments for the lights, I think I'll hold off on anything else for now. But you could probably get some and modify your own; that might be another good project.
[Like his miniatures. And speaking of distractions--]
I um, brought desserts, by the way. You're welcome to them.
[There's a lot, so should be plenty for Simon as well as Nate and Wade.]
no subject
Oh, but...
I'm guessin' those weren't supposed to be for me.
[Especially if Lance didn't know that he was here in the first place.]
Say, if you're not the other person who lives here...
Why is there an extra room? Come to think of it, I haven't seen anybody else go in or outta there.
no subject
Have you asked Nate or Wade?
[Lance presumes the answer is no, or if he did they for some reason didn't tell him about Sam. Lance certainly isn't going to the one to broach that topic himself, so--]
As for the desserts, Wade and Nate will live if you have some; besides, it's not like there's a shortage. I can just make more.
[He nudges the container just a little toward the side of the table Simon is closest to, in hopes he'll be distracted by it.]
no subject
No. Wade gave me a heads' up about his roommate named Nathan, but...
I, like, just met the guy. Like juuuust met him.
[He pauses, the gears turning in his twinky little rat head.]
He doesn't really come home often, does he?
[His nervous little heart begins to theorize. Was it somehow his fault? No, Nate hadn't even seemed to be aware of him.]
Are they fightin' or what? 'Cause, if it's the mess he was mad about, the whole place is clean now. I was gonna make a handy dandy visual guide because I reorganized everything, but... Y'know. No paper.
no subject
As far as I know they're not fighting, and I think Nate would've told me if they were, so don't worry.
[He's not sure Nate would've told him, but he's still pretty sure he would've. And even if he hadn't, Lance has a way of finding things out, so the information would've probably gotten back to him anyway.]
Nate just got a new job recently, and it has weird hours. He's been busy a lot. He'd commiserate with you over the lack of paper though; I know that's something that really annoys him about this world.
[And to try to get a bit more understanding of this situation--]
How did you meet Wade?
no subject
[That's said very quickly.
It's not a lie as that's where they both met, only it had been Simon's first day and well. He had created quite a few scenes.]
And hey, what's with the third degree? I'm the new guy around here.
[Lance will notice that Simon's right arm draws up and over the left elbow joint, squeezing hard. A nervous tic and a dead giveaway- Simon often will perform the same repeated gesture constantly to calm himself down.]
If anything, I should be the one askin' you guys all the questions.
no subject
Do you have questions to ask?
[And he'll just open the container of vanilla brownies--not his usual baking choice, especially since cocoa is so expensive here and so they're not even chocolate, but there's a limit even for him on how many muffins one person should make--and take one, leaving the lid off in an invitation for Simon to grab one if he wants.]
no subject
Ch'yeah! I've got a whole bunch.
[His mind races with the questions he's kept locked up in his head. Where do people go when they disappear? How old is the youngest member of the Displaced? Why is it that everybody else seems to be doing just fine and every other minute he constantly feels as though he's on the brink of-]
But, you still haven't said anything about that room.
There isn't a dead guy in there, right? Because, um, i-d-k if anyone cares about hygiene in this apartment, but? Bacteria? Gross? Plus there's the whole rigor mortis thing, and I haven't seen it, but just thinkin' about it gives me the heebie jeebies...
no subject
There's no dead guy. I can't tell you any details since it's really not my place to do so, but there's no dead body. Or an alive body, for that matter.
[Just, you know. For the record.]
It's just a room. You'll have to ask Nate or Wade for the whole story.
no subject
[This is like the Seven Stages of grief except it's just the 800 Tumultuous Emotions of Simon. He sounds exasperated, clanging both hands on the surface of the table.]
So you're tellin' me this whole time, I've been roughing it on the couch when there is a completely vacant room that I could've, y'know, at least slept on the floor of?
no subject
It's a little more complicated than that. If it weren't, I'm sure they would've just given you the room.
no subject
[Simon's brows furrow. There's that unpleasant sensation in his gut again.]
Then why does it even matter?
no subject
[He'd just tell Simon what's up if it weren't for how private Nate is about things, so that's going to have to be up to him.]
no subject
He is still as he processes, and while his brain would usually go a variety of places, he finds himself growing exhausted. Simon doesn't do well with uncertainty, as he's only okay with it in small doses. Little adventures away from the Apex Car were fun, but they all involved proper equipment and never lasted very long, and soon enough he'd be back into his organized and dimly lit room with all the bits and bobs that he uses to construct his own realities.]
Uh huh.
[It occurs to Simon that he must set himself on some kind of path. A steady road, so that he avoids stumbling and falling, so that he avoids this.
This constant, never-ending cycle of jittery unhappiness, of fear.
Unconsciously, his fingers hover over the Glow. Since he has now at least secured a safe place to stay and the next point of focus is a finding a job, he decides that the third step will be something he has always dreamed about and never quite gotten a good enough taste of.
The pursuit of power. Numbers are one thing, but the abilities of a god? That's a whole different beast entirely.]
no subject
Have you figured out your power?
[He asks it lightly, gesturing to his own chest.]
no subject
[Make no mistake, Simon was ecstatic to learn that he could generate electricity from the soles of his feet. Having his old shoes stripped from his body was a huge inconvenience, as they had helped compensate for his clumsiness, something that had only increased wildly as a result of his recent teenage growth spurt. It hasn't been long since Simon suddenly surpassed Grace in height.]
I mean, it's somethin'.
[Still, his hesitation comes from the notion that the slight generation of sparks and the ability to stick to surfaces may be the end all be all. In his mind however, that doesn't seem very god-like. In fact, it sounds like he's barely scratching the surface.]
I'm just wonderin' if that's all there is to it.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/?
2/?
3/3
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)