Number Five (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deadlylittlething) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lifeaftr2019-04-29 09:29 pm
deadlylittlething) wrote in lifeaftr2019-04-29 09:29 pm
[mostly open] Been a long time gone
Who: Number Five and whoever wants to deal with him, also Taako
What: Five finds the Denny and The Store, is a menace
When: early April, before the 11th
Where: the Denny, the temple
Warnings: alcoholism
i. OTA
It's been a rough couple of days for Five. For one, there's the matter of being dragged to another universe; a problem he is forced to admit he won't be able to solve in a matter of days or even weeks, though he's certainly gonna try. Living in a frigging tree house has not been great either, not to mention the throwback to scavenging for food. Not that he's been doing a whole lot of that, far too busy either running through calculations or exploring the island he's apparently gonna be stuck on for a while.
And then there's the slow realization that his brothers and sisters are nowhere to be found. That he lost them somewhere during his ill-prepared jump, that they could be anywhere in time or space, or simply... never made it out.
Let's just say, by the time he comes across the Denny, he could really use a stiff drink or three.
The boy that steps through the door is dressed in his full school uniform, tie and all, as if spitefully refusing to give up on some goddamn standards around here. But there's some nasty scabs on his knees, dirt and sand on his clothes, his hair hasn't seen a brush in about a week, and the bags under his eyes would be more at home on the face of a 60-year-old war vet. Still, his spirits lift for the first time in days at the sight of an honest to god bar and he climbs onto a stool, letting his knapsack slide to the ground beside him.
"Bit rustic, but I've seen worse dives," he mutters approvingly to himself while he waits for some sort of service to appear.
ii. OTA
Whether he's managed to convince somebody to actually serve him alcohol or simply teleported into the back and helped himself, Five has finally got his hands on some sweet sweet whiskey. He's migrated to a corner table to work on his calculations in his notebook, occasionally pausing to observe the people around him with a keen eye. Though as the afternoon and the cups of whiskey pass on, there's less of that and more just sort of staring into the middle distance with a forlorn expression.
iii. closed to Taako
Obviously it doesn't take Five long to find the temple, clearly a central location if just as much of a shithole as the rest of this place. He wanders inside, taking in the state of the building with an assessing glance until his eyes land on the spread of items laid out in one corner of the large chamber. Now that's interesting. Is that paper and pen he sees? And knives?
"Oh, yes," he sighs enthusiastically and hurries over, paying the guy behind the counter literally no mind as he picks up a knife to inspect the sharpness of the blade.
What: Five finds the Denny and The Store, is a menace
When: early April, before the 11th
Where: the Denny, the temple
Warnings: alcoholism
i. OTA
It's been a rough couple of days for Five. For one, there's the matter of being dragged to another universe; a problem he is forced to admit he won't be able to solve in a matter of days or even weeks, though he's certainly gonna try. Living in a frigging tree house has not been great either, not to mention the throwback to scavenging for food. Not that he's been doing a whole lot of that, far too busy either running through calculations or exploring the island he's apparently gonna be stuck on for a while.
And then there's the slow realization that his brothers and sisters are nowhere to be found. That he lost them somewhere during his ill-prepared jump, that they could be anywhere in time or space, or simply... never made it out.
Let's just say, by the time he comes across the Denny, he could really use a stiff drink or three.
The boy that steps through the door is dressed in his full school uniform, tie and all, as if spitefully refusing to give up on some goddamn standards around here. But there's some nasty scabs on his knees, dirt and sand on his clothes, his hair hasn't seen a brush in about a week, and the bags under his eyes would be more at home on the face of a 60-year-old war vet. Still, his spirits lift for the first time in days at the sight of an honest to god bar and he climbs onto a stool, letting his knapsack slide to the ground beside him.
"Bit rustic, but I've seen worse dives," he mutters approvingly to himself while he waits for some sort of service to appear.
ii. OTA
Whether he's managed to convince somebody to actually serve him alcohol or simply teleported into the back and helped himself, Five has finally got his hands on some sweet sweet whiskey. He's migrated to a corner table to work on his calculations in his notebook, occasionally pausing to observe the people around him with a keen eye. Though as the afternoon and the cups of whiskey pass on, there's less of that and more just sort of staring into the middle distance with a forlorn expression.
iii. closed to Taako
Obviously it doesn't take Five long to find the temple, clearly a central location if just as much of a shithole as the rest of this place. He wanders inside, taking in the state of the building with an assessing glance until his eyes land on the spread of items laid out in one corner of the large chamber. Now that's interesting. Is that paper and pen he sees? And knives?
"Oh, yes," he sighs enthusiastically and hurries over, paying the guy behind the counter literally no mind as he picks up a knife to inspect the sharpness of the blade.
no subject
"Your moral fiber and dedication to the rules are truly impressive," he responds, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know neutrality is complicity, right?" As much as Five hates his dad, he's not above using some of his self-congratulatory bullshit when it suits him.
He finally comes across a promising looking barrel with a spigot at the bottom, casually pops back up at the counter with a faint whoop of displaced air to grab a cup, and jumps back to the barrel to see what he's found. "And it's 58, actually."
no subject
That's probably what Tim or someone would do, because they have. They can spare the spoons to care about what bullshit other people are getting up to. He barely has enough spoons to remember how to take care of himself most days, he's not about to stick his nose in other people's business and try to fix their problems. Connor isn't stupid enough to overlook that anyone willing to dig for a fix has a problem whether they want to admit it or not.
That's not his business, though, so he's fuckin staying in his own lane. If this old man who looks like a child wants to fuckin drink himself to death then whatever. All Connor has to do is stay out of the crossfire.
"All I care about is being able to say I didn't technically break the rules." Five blinks in and out of being, and Connor manages to be slightly surprised by something. It doesn't happen often, anymore, but most people here don't use their powers so casually. "Neat trick, Nightcrawler."