[Accidental Audio][Forward-dated to the 29th/post-event]

[brotimaeus]

[[ooc: Because things are fucked up enough for him without his little bro being a sword]]

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[He's not running, but his footsteps are quick, breathing heavy and not panicked, not panicked, because Bro Strider doesn't panic, not even when he wakes up in a hospital bed with the last memories he has still fresh in his mind being told by someone who sounds too calm that he's fictional. Or was.

Under his breath, he's talking to himself.]

Okay, okay, just. Calm down. Take it easy, Bro. This ain't the most fucked up thing you ever got yourself into, just.. Okay. Priorities. One. Find out where the fuck I am and what the hell is really goin' on here 'cause I ain't down with all this 'you ain't real' bullshit.

Two. Two.. find a fuckin' bar.

[His footsteps pause, then resume. The audio cuts off.]

Comments

action;

[alwaysimpure]

I try not to think too much about stuff here.

Nothing we can change about it, anyway. Whether it's fictional or not.

action;

[brotimaeus]

Normally, I'd say you're wrong, but I just ain't got that fight in me right now.

[He rubs his temple lightly.]

Guess I should be grateful. Ain't often you get a second chance at livin'.

action;

[alwaysimpure]

With people knowing more about my life than anyone but me ought to, it really doesn't bear thinking about too much.

And, yeah. This place does offer chances I'd not have otherwise, too.