[ OPEN ] July Catch-all

[willtheunwise]

WHO: Will Byers (willtheunwise) & OTA

WHAT: Catch-all for July,

WHERE: Various locations

WHEN: Through July

WARNINGS: Some talk of monsters, death and maybe kidnapping, typical Stranger Things/horror canon stuff





1. Sketching
After getting very involved in chalking Will has realised that in order to keep himself sane he needs art supplies. For now that’s a plain notepad and a HB pencil but it’s good enough and he can often be found sat in various city locations sketching whatever takes his fancy. That could be anything from buildings to trees and flowers or dependent on how interesting you look or what you’re up to is you.
If you approach him he will certainly startle like he wasn’t expecting to be noticed at all but it’s not too hard to convince him to stop for a chat or show you his artwork.

2. Mall
The last time Will was really at a mall was when the hivemind sent a huge meat monster version of his worst nightmares after him and his friends. His sister lost her powers, her father was seemingly killed and his friends possessed older brother died in front of him. Malls have bad memories attached. But still after snooping through what he could of the city before the second district opened up he still hasn’t located anywhere to get decent art supplies or records so he’s trying to be brave about it.
He can’t be found standing staring up at it quite blankly, disassociating a little, maybe breathing a little unevenly as he tries to convince himself that he can manage to go inside alone.

3. Convenience Store daytime
It sure is mighty convenient to be living so close to a convenience store and Will has been taking advantage by mostly feeding himself on snacks and soda because if he’s really honest he’s rarely had to fend for himself because Jonathan was always there in some capacity and when he wasn’t available Will was over at a friends house so his cooking skills are almost non-existent. He can often be found sitting on the counter and if you’re in there looking for anything specific he probably knows where it is.

4. Convenience Store night time
On occasion Will has been known to forget to feed himself, especially when he’s been busy scrolling through the network and sketching and generally behaving like a total shut in so it’s not unusual for him for him to be in the store late at night, since it seems to be open at all hours.
He’s only ever been in there alone though, so when he hears something else in there he creeps round the edge of the shelf he’s just been raiding thinking he’s being really sneaky and it’s definitely not going to freak him out. Of course when he does see someone he startles and the bags of chips in his arms go flying causing a crinkly racket as they hit the ground.

“Shit, sorry, shit…” Will looks at the mess then up at the other person, “I wasn’t expecting anyone else in here so late.”

5. Wildcard
Hit me with anything or shoot me a PM or find me here on Plurk unwisewizard for plotting or closed starters or anything else!
Happy to match format also so if you have a preference for brackets I’ll match that!

Comments

[possessum]

Peter follows the boy's gesture down to the book in his lap, staring there for a few long moments. Sketching... he's been drawing. There's an odd, sudden hitch in the older boy's chest — ghosts constantly follow him, whispering and creeping, and so many things make them flutter within Peter. He thinks of his sister's book, the one that she always kept with her, her little sketches—

There's an odd, quick little jerk of Peter's head, as though an insect's flown close to his ear and he's instinctively trying to make it leave. Can't think about it. Can't think about it.

The boy gives him new things to think about instead, and Peter does, slowly sinking down to sit beside him when gestured to, with an almost comical obedience: his body language as though he's a much younger child following an older person's orders. Peter sits there stiff and awkward, hands placed gently in his own lap.

"It's okay. Guess we're all a little jumpy." He manages to say, breathing out a soft exhale. "Yeah. I... I think I've only been here a couple days. It's hard to tell."

It's more words than he usually voices, something that's actually reminiscent of holding a conversation. Maybe it's easier to talk to someone who seems young and soft and safe (even if an aching heaviness lingers in his chest and he knows he deserves it to.)

"How long've you been here?"

[willtheunwise]

“A couple of weeks,” Will replies nervously fiddling with his sleeves. “It’s a mindfuck at first.” It’s still a mindfuck but he doesn’t want to say that because maybe other people are adjusting better than him. He’s sure plenty of the adults trapped here aren’t sitting awake at night missing their mothers.

There is definitely something wrong with the other boy though Will has no idea what it might be, just that his mannerisms are off. He seems twitchy and the small flashes of almost jerky movement and the way he follows orders is… uncanny. However having seen firsthand the kind of damage judging people on a first impression or for being a little strange does he’s not one to point it out. He is, however, concerned it could be something to do with how the boy looks like he’s smashed into something fairly recently.

“Has anyone checked you over?” It’s a question asked hesitantly, tone soft and quiet. He doesn’t reach out, keeping his hands to himself even though he wants to because he knows the power of a gentle hand on the shoulder.

Will looks over him again, the bruises look new but not too new, like they’ve had a few days to settle in and change colour. The bandages on the boys face look clean enough but something like that can leave you concussed. Will has seen enough people get their faces smashed up to know about concussions and the lifespan of a bruise.

[possessum]

A couple of weeks... that's not very long at all. It only further solidifies some feeling of safeness, maybe. The boy's new too, and clearly nervous, just as out of place as Peter is. A fellow victim of... whatever the fuck this all is.

The boy... Will, he said his name was. Peter hangs onto it, even if he hasn't introduced himself in return just yet. The thought doesn't even come to him, to voice his name. It feels like something foreign. Like somebody else.

"I uh... There's a man. A doctor. He's looked at me." The older gives a soft tip of his head forwards, a little nod as he recalls the process, hazy as it was back on his first day. But Daan's been helping keep an eye on him here and there.

"I think it's broken," he adds with a soft wince as he sees the other boy looking him over. He knows the state of him is... bad, a bit startling to see. His nose takes center-stage, injury-wise, and it still hurts a little to breathe through it.

"....It didn't happen here. Back home." Peter thinks to clarify after a moment, because others have asked him that a lot, justifiably concerned that something in this place might be to blame for beating him up.

"I uh. I think all I can do is just kinda wait for it to heal. Maybe put ice on it."

[willtheunwise]

Will knows the feeling of shrinking away from the sympathy when people see you in a state so he tries to keep it to himself, instead looking down at his lap.

“At least someone qualified has checked it,” Will replies with a small smile. It’s an actual miracle Steve still has all of his face in the right places with the amount of times he’s seen the older boy covered in bruising.

“That’s pretty much what I was told when my ribs got broken, ice packs for the swelling, pain killers and hope it heals right is all you can do for bones you can’t really set.” He’d been mostly disappointed he didn’t get to have a cast to make people draw on, because twelve year olds have great priorities. “At least you don’t have to pay for medicine here, I think me and my brother have cost my mom a small fortune in pharmaceuticals.”

Joyce keeps what amounts to a small pharmacy in the house now for whenever he and Jonathan manage to get themselves hurt, even when they were in California away from the worst of it.

apologies that this is so late, no obligation to reply / we could handwave the rest if you want!

[possessum]

Peter's turning his head to face the younger boy at that bit of information — broken ribs....? Christ, how could that have happened to the poor kid...? Brows furrow, and a frown tugs at the corners of his mouth, something quietly but visibly disturbed by the thought.

"Broken ribs sounds.... fucking painful."

He'd maybe bruised some of his when he'd fallen from the attic, hit the ground, but things were soft — he'd landed in the flowerbed, and although he's not capable of thinking too much about it just now, there was something almost... intentional about that. (As though he'd been led to hit a very certain place. One that wouldn't damage his body too much.) ...His body still aches from the fall, but nothing was broken, he thinks. He imagines the snap he'd heard, felt, from the centre of his face but inside his chest instead, multiple snaps, and such thick bones to break, too... god.

Peter pauses, eyes dropping down a little, giving a soft swallow, empathy and a muted horror laced in his words. "Do they still hurt sometimes? Even after they've healed?"

in this house we backtag to hell

[willtheunwise]

Broken ribs was fucking painful, especially when you can’t stop coughing. It’s Wills turn to shrink under the sympathy, he can’t exactly say ‘it happened during CPR’ because that makes it worse instead of better. ‘Yeah I died a bit’ is no comfort at all.

“I was twelve so I mostly remember being mad I had to have bed rest at the hospital and I didn’t even get a cast.” The whole painkiller fuelled memory is a blur of tests and people saying words he didn’t understand and trying to press him for details of his time in the upside down, asking questions he didn’t have answers to and nightmares every time he dared to sleep.

“They do hurt a bit, sometimes, but I don’t know if it’s because they got broken,” it could be whatever the spores did to his lungs that mean he still has fits of wheezing or just having utterly terrible posture, he’s prone to hunching, trying to make himself smaller and less visible. “I get told to sit up straight all the time so it could be that, who knows.”

Will shrugs, it’s easier to be blasé about everything and skip over the scary or painful parts so the anxiety is kept at bay, doesn’t sweep through chilling his blood and tightening his throat until he feels like he’s dying all over again.