October Open

[theweakhavepurpose]

Who: Deputy Pratt and you! Also one Closed to Ash
What: Definitely not having PTSD from last October
Where: Outside the Tommy Bahama, his room, the cheese shop
When: October
Warnings: Residual freak outs about his best buddy, death talk, being real depressed.



1. And out of the red, out of her head. (Closed to Ash)
Pratt hasn't been in his room for a few days, sometimes he forgets he's supposed to sleep, and eat and drink and be human again. He's gotten so much better lately but habits forced into being are hard to break.

He pushes the door open and heads over to his side of the room to dig into some nice cold mashed potatoes, when he stops and stares at the bloody shirt shredded on the floor. That's not good. Immediately on edge he steps the rest of the way into the room, not touching the shirt.

"Hey? You in here?" He quietly closes the door behind him and looks around before drawing his gun and inching towards that scuffling noise coming from the closet.

2. If everything could ever be this real forever - Outside Tommy Bahama

His memory is bad, terrible even. What did he do yesterday? No idea. Who did he talk to this morning? Can't remember. But boy does he remember the terrible things. The awful things. If it would be better left forgotten he remembers every single detail. Everything.

Right now he's just standing in front of the Tommy Bahama, staring at the plate glass window, but he's not seeing Tommy Bahama; he's seeing the Spirit Halloween. Infinite decorations, darkness, violence and then Ava, ... and Sharky. But most definitely not Sharky. It just keeps replaying over and over in his head as he looks at nothing.

Maybe he should blink at some point...

3.Out of your head out of my head - Cheese Shop
Perched on one of the seats in the Cheese Shop, Pratt has wedged a giant knife with a red handle into the barrel that serves as the table. Occasionally he uses it to slice cheese against as he sits there eating his feelings with manchego and salami.

"If we can't really die, then we can't really live huh? Like.. what's the point of all that then? Just keep on keeping on while eating cheese? Is that all there is?"

Comments

[theweakhavepurpose]

"I think we're homesick for the wrong things. It's this fucking time of year." And he knows homesick isn't even the right term, he just can't brain words to explain what he means and assumes Sharky just gets it.

Pratt closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He survived months of literal actual torture with a sadistic cannibal; he can handle a fucking costume store and spooky decorations.

"It's gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine." Said firmly like he can manifest it into being. "Anyway, I guess I should so something other than stand here in the middle of the walkway like a fucking weirdo."

[broshaw]

"Like... home-ill or something." Which is Sharky-speak for 'I understand exactly what you mean.'

He gives Pratt's shoulder a little shake. "Yeah, man -- I mean, not like, that you're being a weirdo, let's be real, everyone here's fuckin' weird. Just like, you don't gotta sit here and get in a doom spiral. What if we hit up the arcade? Or go bowling or somethin'?" He's literally just throwing anything out that's not "drinking and eating" -- not that he'd say NO, he's just trying to expand his repertoire.

[theweakhavepurpose]

He nods, the bro-vibes have carried his true meaning between them.

"Oh shit that's right, there's a bowling alley. Think they do that crazy glow in the dark bowling with black lights and shit? I don't even know if that's real but I saw it on tv once which means the Captain also saw it and might have made it real."

[broshaw]

"Oh, dude, it is real. Hurk and I went to that one alley over in Billings once and they totes pulled out the blacklight wall decor and played techno music and shit."

One more shoulder bump for the road. "We should go see if we can kick that shit on here! Plus, the beer is like, stupid mediocre. None of that high-class IPA shit. Pretty sure it's like, Value Corner Pabst."

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Oh shit, not even the Wal-Mart brand but the fake CVS one?" Oh he is so down for watery beer that's probably 0.03% alcohol and tastes like piss.

"Damn that rocks. And like shitty soggy onion rings and pizza that makes the paper plates transparent with grease?"

[broshaw]

"And hot dogs that've been rotating on those lil' heat rollers for hours!" You know, the best kinds of hot dogs.

"C'mon, we'll bowl a couple'a frames and drink some absolute dogshit beer. Way better nostalgia than shitty Peggie bullshit."

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Always wanted one of those things. Like if I ever won the lotto I want those roller things in my house. And a popcorn machine. A real one not the shitty plastic ones, the movie theater ones with the popcorn falling out of the kettle. But yeah I'd have hot dogs and taquitos just on tap." Big dreams for a small town boy.

"Fuck and yes. And you'll probably annihilate me, I'll be lucky if I hit a single pin. I'm true crap at bowling."

[broshaw]

Sharky nods in understanding. Who wouldn't want an entire concession stand in their house???

"Awww, you want me to put the bumpers up??" If you read that in a teasing tone, you would be right. "Lil baby bumpers for the bumper baby??"

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Fuck you man!" Said with a playful shove at his shoulder, "I'm not that bad. Besides I just gotta wait until you're eight beers in. That's my time to shine."