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[dillonrockstar]

[There's a long haired, beat up, hung over boy standing in the fountain looking more than a little confused. Pro tip: It's his default expression. He's wearing a plaid button up over a thermal long sleeve, a blue ball cap backwards, jeans, cowboy boots and he's got grease on his hands and smeared on his neck.]

What the hell's goin' on here? Where's my truck? Billy? Bo? Why the crap is everything in black and white? What the hell did I drink? [That's the slightest bit of panic right there before he gets control of himself]

[He sighs, steps out of the fountain and shakes his boots off. He takes his hat off, runs his hands back over his hair and then puts his hat back on, still backwards. It's then that he sees the device sitting near the fountain and picks it up. It ain't like he knows how to use it but he shoves it in his pocket anyway.]

I hope to hell these dry out.

Comments

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

[Tim kind of shrugs.] You know, football, girls, drinking, working out.

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

Well, I am certain you can do these things, or at least some of them, here as well.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Guess I'll figure it out. [he pauses a moment.] Thanks.

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

You are quite welcome. I certainly know what it is like to arrive here, in such an unfamiliar place.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

You been here long?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

A little over three months.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

[There's just a sigh on Tim's end. He takes his hat off again, runs both hands over his hair then finds a place to sit down and just sit like that. It's all a little over whelming for a guy from a tiny town in Texas who gets overwhelmed when he goes to Dallas.]

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

It is not so bad here, the curses aside.

[ Trying to cheer him up... yeah. ]

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Curses? Like swearin' and shit?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

Nothing like that, I am afraid. The curses are days when certain things happen - not all of them bad, necessarily, but the majority of them appears to be ranging from inconvenient to terrifying or incapacitating.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Yeah this place just keeps getting more screwed up.

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

It is not quite usual, indeed.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

So's there a place to stay here? Like a hotel that ain't gonna me cough up money I don't have?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

How old are you? There is a centre for youth where one may stay for free.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Sixteen. That where you stay?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

Yes, it is.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

What sorta rules they got?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

None beyond basic etiquette, that I am aware of. Mr Morgan is very kind.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Guess I can handle that. Mr. Morgan the guy that runs it?

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

He is. It used to be him and Mr Reid, but Mr Reid has since gone back to his home world.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Someone mentioned that can happen.

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

Indeed. I suppose most people here are only waiting to return home.

[dillonrockstar.livejournal.com]

You can't really blame 'em.

[likeboudica.livejournal.com]

No, indeed I cannot. I should think it is rather natural to wish to return to one's home.