ph_logs | We're Being Very General Today

We're Being Very General Today

Who: Eddie Kaspbrak & [ANYONE]
What: day to day stuff
When: general October/November timeframe
Where: Eddie's farm, out and about in town
Warnings: death (assisted suicide, vampire engages in blood drinking)

EDIT (11/10): Extending this log into November because these general prompts are still good

Food Isn't Going to Grow Itself
Eddie's day is pretty full with working on the farm. This is most likely the place that you will find him, just by virtue of the fact that it's a full time job and where he lives.

If he invited you over, feel free to just swing by! Wanna chat? No problem! Feel a need to call him out about something he did? Go for it!

You're being chased by a monster in the woods and need a safe haven? That's why he keeps a lantern by the front gate. (There's a wooden sign painted with "E. Kaspbrak Farm" also on the gate, but that wouldn't be visible in the dark...)

This is most likely where you'll find him unless you've invited him elsewhere.

Been Hanging Around This Town
To be fair, Eddie isn't a total recluse, and you stand a decent chance of catching him in town -- especially in the evenings, before full dark has fallen.

For anyone who wouldn't want to -- or wouldn't be able to -- make a trek out to Northwest Hollow and his farm, he sometimes does sword-training with River at the Festival Green.

He might be at the tavern or some other venue where Grace Holloway is giving a performance, just enjoying the vibes.

Or hell, maybe you caught him on a daytime visit to the shopping district. That's a possibility. He does chat with the tailors a lot -- he's probably going to end up doing as they suggest, and grow flax come springtime.

Wildcard
Anything else you can think of, and probably also for fallout from other October events!

****

[Locked to Angel] - Gotta Feel Your Feelings

After a talk with Cecil, Eddie shows up at Angel's townhouse. He knocks on the door and waits for a response.

He's not supposed to be alone with his grief, for his lost friend (lost friends, really, for all that the others still live). Eddie thinks maybe that's why he hasn't been able to feel it, has been pushing it away and back and just telling himself 'not now'. It's not the sort of grief that you fall into without a hand to help you back out.

****

[Locked to Erik] - Assistance Needed
The advertisement is placed on the community bulletin board like any other request.

Assistance Needed in Planned Death (As Soon As Possible)

Anyone with ideas for a relatively painless and least traumatic method of death is welcome to share them with Eddie Kaspbrak. Willingness to actually carry out said method would be appreciated.
Reasoning to be shared with those who respond in person. Please visit E. Kaspbrak Farm, Northwest Hollow.

And below the printed words, there is an additional handwritten note: Yes, I am aware that death is temporary here, I wouldn't be asking if it were otherwise. Serious inquiries only!

****

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While the tea boils, Gerry comes back out and has a seat at his small dining table, patting the back of the chair next to him.

"Alright. Talk to me. What's up with you and Angel?"

Eddie takes a breath. "Well... we're always spending time together, and the thought of being around him makes me happy. And I... figured that was enough. We sort of... progressed to a lot of hugging and cuddling when we hang out."

Another breath, a small smile, and Eddie attempts to lighten the mood (more for himself) by observing, "Falling asleep on the couch in your late thirties is a bad idea."

This is not a big deal. It's not. Eddie is just talking to Gerry and nobody has done anything wrong.

"After Dahlia's party, Angel asked to spend the night and I wanted him to. Nothing more happened. It was just... cuddling on the couch, and I fell asleep on him because I was so exhausted..." Eddie's next breath is a little shaky, a little too fast. "And the next morning, I made a joke that he had his first dance and hadn't asked me... he took it serious and we started talking about... what it all is, and we went to the party as friends but it seems like he wants something... more. And I... I--"

Eddie cuts himself off -- eyes slamming closed, both hands gripping to the edge of Gerry's dining table -- and forces himself to breathe slowly.

"I feel... my thoughts... going too fast. And I start hyperventilating. Panicking."

Gerry listens silently as Eddie speaks, carefully processing what he hears and watching Eddie's face.

"She's not here," Gerry points out gently when Eddie finishes. "The death goddess could've picked anyone to bring to this place, she's more than shown that, but she picked you and not your mum. Those chains don't exist here. I know it doesn't make the fear go away, not yet, but it's worth remembering. You've got to decide for yourself what you want."

"So when you think about it for yourself, with no one else's voice in your head but your own, what do you want? Friendship? Romance? Something else?"

"I don't have just my voice in my head," Eddie protests. (He has to keep his back straight; curling into himself will just make it harder to breathe. "I still hear the clown... I hear Pennywise taunting me and calling me a 'girly boy'. I hear Ma bitching about 'that Paddy cop' and calling my best friend a 'Jewboy' and saying queers are sick in the head.

"It's all so fucking loud and it won't stop! Every time I try to think m-maybe..." Eddie is visibly struggling to get the words out, and his voice is quiet when he says, "Maybe I am."

He's never admitted that before, even to himself. He's certainly never said it out loud before. But it's out there now... and Eddie is watching Gerry with wide, fearful eyes.

He just listens. He doesn't flinch when Eddie's voice raises, or as he spirals. He's not much the consoling type--- he wishes he could be, but never learned how. But something he can be is steadfast. Patient. Calm. A rock to steady oneself on.

"That's fine." Gerry shrugs casually. "I am too."

"Fuck." Eddie hides his face in his hands, eventually sliding his hands upward so that the heels of each palm press over his eyes, and his fingers curl into his hair and pull. "I've never said it. It was never, ever safe."

Another slow, deep breath. ~~Don't panic.~~

Gerry's calm helps. Gerry really has no skin in the game when it comes to Eddie's relationships, so it's less fucking terrifying to discuss.

"Everyone... when I was a kid, people knew what queers were but everyone talked like it was a bad, sick thing to be. And Ma drilled it in my head that being sick -- any kind of sick -- was just a step away from suffering, dying, and rotting."

And there was that fear, the Corruption digging its festering roots into poor Eddie's heart. But that was the closest to rotting he was. And even then, it couldn't reach him here.

"...When I was born, I was, for all intents and purposes, a girl." His tone stays just as even and measured. "My family was involved with something that grants... deeper vision. Into things no one else can usually know. So it didn't take long for someone to see into my head and find out what I really was. I don't know how Mum felt about it. She'd already had me renamed before I was old enough to answer to the first one. Maybe she hated it but didn't think she could do anything about it, maybe she couldn't have cared less, maybe she was glad for it. She never told me what she thought at all. And I didn't know anybody else like me, so I didn't really come to terms with it 'till I was older. But I've been transgender and bisexual for as long as I've been alive. And the only thing that ever made me sick was smoking."

He pauses. "...What I mean to say is, if I'm okay, you are too."

Eddie looks up when Gerry tells his own story, and the idea that someone else knows -- not exactly what Eddie went through, because that's impossible, but -- something of the lonely fear, being the only one you know for sure is like you... it helps.

Eddie breathes, and there's no broken whistle wheeze in his lungs anymore.

"You are. You're okay. There isn't... there isn't anything wrong with you."

The other words Eddie wants to say, 'there isn't anything wrong with me', still get stuck in his throat for the moment.

Gerry reaches over and gives Eddie a firm pat on the shoulder. "You're not broken. You're not sick. And here, there isn't even any stigma like that. I see gay couples walking around all the time. I'm pretty sure my friend Jon is getting cozy with that dream therapist wizard guy, one of my neighbor ladies was seeing some girl up the road for a bit, and the real squirrelly person with the teeth has two girlfriends who are also girlfriends with each other. It's the queer wild west out here."

There's a slight hysterical edge to Eddie's little laugh after that. It's not really funny, but... he's felt this before. The 'any kind of laughter will do' feeling of standing on a precipice.

"Do you think it's a prerequisite for the White-Haired Lady's offer?"

Other things are slotting into place for him. He flexes his scarred hand and winces at the pain, the worst he's ever felt, something pulsing with his heartbeat. Eddie mutters, "What the fuck..."

"Somethin' up?" He stands to go check the kettle, keeping an eye on Eddie.

"I don't know for sure." Eddie holds up his hand, displaying the scar that goes across his palm.

It's a fairly thick line, having been made with a broken soda bottle, mostly in the fleshy pad that makes up the base of his thumb. (It bisects the end of his life line, but that doesn't mean anything, does it?) The skin immediately around it is flushed pink, but the shiny scar tissue itself is a stark white.

"It doesn't usually hurt. The scar only came back after I started remembering our experiences with Pennywise... with It. But now it's really bothering me."

When Gerry comes back to pour the tea, Eddie has his scarred hand lying palm up so that Gerry can take a closer look if he wants to.

Of course Gerry wants to take a look, he's got connections to the Eye. He furrows his brow, looking down at the scar and tilting his head. Maybe he'll see something Eddie can't?

The scar exists as a sign of connection with other members of Eddie's ka-tet -- a group of people brought together by fate. One made of many, and in this case, the 'many' was seven.

There are seven softly glowing threads emanating from the scar. One curves back and sinks into Eddie's flesh at the wrist, while the others point upward and move like little blades of grass swaying in the wind. The upward-pointing threads do eventually fade into invisibility, even to the Eye, though there's a sense that they continue unseen to elsewhere.

One thread fades into darkness near the end. Two of the threads are intertwining with each other. Another two wave separately to their own rhythms, and the last... it looks like there are sparks travelling down that thread and striking at Eddie's scar.

As for Eddie himself, he just watches Gerry study his hand with a little bit of worry showing in his eyes. "Does it... look bad?"

[[ OOC: To spell it out some -- each thread represents one of the "Losers Club" (Lucky Seven) that helped kill It. The darkened one is Stan, who died. The intertwined ones are Ben and Beverly, who are in love and were allowed to remember enough to get married once It was dead for good. Should be obvious which one is Eddie :) and the other three are Richie, Bill, and Mike. ]]

"...Threads of fate," Gerry mutters. "You've got--- something extradimensional, or something, going on with the scar. Seven threads of fate. One of them seems agitated somehow."

"Seven..." Eddie murmurs. "There were seven of us. The Lucky Seven."

He looks at his palm, but he doesn't see anything like what Gerry describes. "...that sounds like one of my friends is in trouble." Eddie frowns, clearly thinking something over. "I wonder if I'd have to die again to help them."

"Doesn't seem like there's much of a way out of here either way." Gerry shrugs. "...Might see 'em here?"

"When I died here, I went... somewhere else. Just for a bit, while I was dead. And then I resurrected like everybody said I would." Eddie still looks a bit distant, this time remembering that strange, possibly starry space and the Turtle.

(When the light catches on his glasses, is there a reflection of a turtle shape there? For just a moment, and then gone again.)

"I doubt that I could get out or go to my friend, but maybe they'd be able to hear me if I was in that somewhere else place again."

Gerry nods sagely. "Mm. Worth a shot. But don't go dying on purpose. That shit's bad for your mental health. Maybe just go out and do something really stupid." He smirks just a bit.

"That smirk makes me think you're going to say something to Angel about it," Eddie points out dryly.

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We're Being Very General Today

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