thoughtformed | (no subject)

[He smirks a little and offers a casual shrug.]

Dude, I'm a time traveler. I'm already doing all that better shit.

[It's why the police leave him alone when they see him during school hours. He's always already in class when they bring him back.]

Besides, I can't just ditch you in your doped up state. Miss Danvers would probably sentence me to an extra hour of P.E. every day for a year if I abandoned a civilian in need. So if you wake up enough to want the skinny on the island, I can serve up what deets as I can.

[Jason needs to hear this so he tries to rally himself, starting by roughly ripping the top off the second cup and taking a painful-looking swallow.]

If you're boyscout enough to want your 'help a violent stranger on psycho-drugs' merit badge then I'm gonna do my best to stay awake to oblige you.

[He tries to look attentive. He thinks it probably doesn't work.]

Please, I'm the most fuckin' boyscout. Bitches don't know about my Brownie points.

[It doesn't matter if Jason's attentive or not, really. Dave has a captive audience. The world is his oyster.]

This place is called New Moore. It's on an island, we don't know where. Everything seems basically Earthlike except weird shit happens on the regular. And by regular, I mean, like, every couple weeks we turn into pirates, or get invaded by bunny rabbits, or find ourselves married to our roommates. You know, just your average human interest story. Or whatever. There's a lot of people here, and some of them are, uh. Different.

Pirates, of course.

[Jason takes another sip, steels himself.]

Different how?

I'm guessing you're from some kind of Earth, right. No offense if I'm wrong, but you seem like a twenty-first century Earth kind of guy.

You pegged me.

Did your Earth have aliens? Or superheroes? Or ever get annihilated by meteors because of a computer game?

[Jason blinks.]

Not sure about that last one but, aliens and superheroes? Sure. Lot's of those.

Oh, all right, then you'll be right at home. We've got a particularly prominent alien population of little grey dudes with orange horns called trolls, and a bunch of people from superhero worlds. We also have, like, five different Sherlock Holmeses? I might be making that up, I lose track.

Superhero... worlds? Like, all superheroes all the time?

And I honestly can't tell if you're bullshitting me about the little gray people or not.

Uhh, well probably not, but that's what Miss Danvers makes it seem like sometimes. She's our P.E. teacher at the high school. Also, hold on, I've got a picture. I took this a couple months ago when I threw Karkat into the ocean.

[Have a camera phone photo of a very disgruntled troll.]

[Jason tilts his head to get a better look, then just sort of...stares.]

Uh. Wow.

[He leans back a little.]

So they're not dangerous?

Not really. Not any more dangerous than us other high school transplants. I mean, half of us are gods, but the most nefarious thing you'll probably see any of us do is torrent an R-rated movie with no subtitles.

See, you say that and you act like it's no biggie? But, dude, you can time travel. So are you saying they're fluffy bunny levels of dangerous or that they're not dangerous when compared with gods and time travelers?

Well, when you put it that way.

[Dave props his chin in his hand and looks up, thinking about everyone dangerous he knows on the island.]

I guess if you tried to put away everyone with serious power here, the only people out of jail would be Principal Dinkerton and Sheska down at the station. But no one I know is bad.

[Jason looks at him incredulously.]

Everyone here is a meta?

Most everyone I know is. I guess it might be different at the grown-up level. On the other hand, a couple of the grown-ups I've run into have been personifications of countries, so your mileage may vary.

[Jason's already come to terms with the fact that he'll have to revisit all this later when he's more awake but.]

...Countries.

[It's not quite a question.]

Our English teacher is literally England.

[Jason pulls off his hood and rubs his hand through his hair, screwing up his face in thought.]

And, according to our kidnappers, he's actually from a... work of fiction?

We all are, supposedly. Personally I think it makes a lot more sense than anything else about my life, but fuck, what do I know, I'm just a guy with a blog who delivers pizzas via time travel.

Edited (Sorry hit submit before I finished editing) 2013-10-28 04:56 (UTC)

[Jason doesn't say anything to that, just looks away and takes another sip of coffee. He can't- No, he refuses to even consider the validity of his existence. He digs his free hand into his pocket almost absentmindedly, fingers sliding over his red domino mask. He thinks about his next question.]

Who runs this town?

Agents of some vague but generous government, far as I can tell. As an underage 'fictional,' I'm not exactly hella involved in the democratic process.

[Jason raises his eyebrow.]

'Generous' government isn't suspicious at all.

Edited 2013-10-28 20:15 (UTC)

Right? But they never, like, do anything to us.

[He flops back in his chair, arms folded.]

I mean, people show up and get released or whatever all the time, and that's shady as fuck, but other than that and the stipends it's pretty hands-off.