ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ (beepbeep) wrote in evaluation, @ 2020-02-02 18:47:00 |
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Richie wasn’t sure if the cafe was meant to mimic the Waffle House, like, on purpose - but he was definitely getting flashbacks here. There was a Waffle House in pretty much every city, every town, even the podunk ones - and above all else, it was a delicious cure for the drunchies, but when those wore off, yeah, you remembered how shitty the food actually was. Still, he could recall his many pilgrimages there in college - he could smell those crispy hashbrowns cooking, could feel his shoes sticking to the syrup-covered floor. He inhaled his chocolate chip waffles while drunk or high, and didn’t have a care in the world. Though he’d also been there when many fights over cigarettes broke out; he’d been there for psych patients naked under tables and drug deals in the parking lot. Waffle House, Richie Tozier loved you. But anyway, he’d just gotten coffee at knock-off Waffle House. He had the deck of tarot cards from John and was about to spread them out in the way Adam had shown him - though if this didn’t work, he guessed he could scry in a water glass. Or the teacups. Something. He hadn’t tried yet since arriving at the compound so he figured it was about time. “Alright, how you feeling, Super Charger?” he asked. “Ready to pull my ass out if need be?” How was Blue feeling? Stressed out, which made her cranky. Tired, which made her crankier. But she did have breakfast food which considerably lightened her mood. Granted the fruit bowl side dish from the pseudo-Waffle House was mostly cantaloupe and honeydew, but she was carefully digging out squishy blueberries and a lone red grape, as she eyed his tarot cards. "Doesn't matter how I feel. You're the one going under," Blue said, with a half shrug. Then a eureka moment came to her, very visibly, as she dug into her pockets and pulled out a very hot pink switchblade. She dropped it proudly onto the table. "I brought this, just in case you get too far away from your body if you scry. Let's hope we don't." She wasn't proud, though, about possibly freaking out a psychic before they started communicating with other worldly things, and they didn't need it last time. But Richie was not Adam, or her mom, or her aunts. He did well enough the first time they did this together, but that did not cover all subsequent times, even if they were starting off with cards this round. "All right." Blue was offering up her hand to Richie, while the other popped the grape into her mouth. "Let's do this. I want to know if we can get anything else more concrete than a volcano." A pink switchblade? Damn. “That’s so gangster,” Richie chuckled nervously, heh, but alright - he supposed that was fair enough, using pain to wrench him back into the present if he went tumbling too far into the future. “We’re gonna come back to you, because you seem about as good as I am,” he noted - tired and cranky? Check and check. Richie understood that, on a spiritual level. He also was sure he was coming down with a case of cabin fever, since they were stuck in this one compound and there weren't a ton of places to choose from, when it came to getting away for a little while. Mostly he just wanted to jet off and not think about colored blocks or Survivor challenges. “But alright, yeah, let’s do this.” The tarot cards were shuffled and spread out in formation - Celtic Cross spread, focusing on the issue of volcano and more. Richie was hoping that they could get some answers about what he assumed was the next room, and he could use the encouragement because right now he was beginning to think they’d be stuck at the compound forever. Of course, it wasn’t so awful, and their overlords could decide that they all needed a repeat of the fuckery endured in the USSR to learn them something good. He reached for Blue’s hand and held it in his own, turning the cards with the opposite hand, brow furrowing - something about swords, something about pentacles, a cup someplace, but it was the Hermit that was the trigger. The card was bleak trees, mist whitened by the moon, the glow of a lantern light - His eyes suddenly flooded with cloudiness, pulling the shutters on irises and pupils. Blue placed an index finger over her mouth to shh him, mostly because she did not want to talk about herself. Richie definitely didn't need to know about her boyfriend troubles. Or lack of troubles. Was there even any trouble or was she just making it more difficult on herself? Watching him play along in Survivor wasn't helping her mood. She squeezed Richie's hand and watched him flip cards. The first one was the present; swords were for finding balance, usually with wands or cups. But then Richie flipped a pentacles card, and Blue frowned deeply, unafraid of letting him see her reactions. She opened her mouth ready to mention that the placement in the spread—their immediate challenge—dealt with their environment. But then he flipped a cups card (a suit she was ever so tied to) and her eyes narrowed. "Richie, I think I'm definitely messing with—" Her eyes were on his hands, still going for the next card: The Hermit. Richie's eyes went ghostly, and Blue sucked in a breath. Without letting go of Richie's hand, she shoved her plate out of the way and leaned in, super close, across the table. "What do you see?" Blue asked, in a hopefully encouraging tone. The last time it was volcanoes. But it was also the storm, which had undoubtedly saved their lives. She didn't want him to forget that. Darkness, he saw that - difficult to make out was what within, however; shadows, a multitude of them, melted into the blackness. Eyes too, eerie golden shades that were less twinkling like treasure and more animal peering out at him, a stare cut from ice. There was movement in the quiet, however - like someone tracking through the forest, a hunter on the prowl. The snap of twigs made him jump a bit, and he probably would have pushed further into what awaited there in the arms of darkness were it not for this sense of dread he got - if he went further in, he might never come out. Blue might need to carve a finger or two off, and Richie was dimly aware of that. He snapped back like a rubber band, blinking rapidly to clear the haze. “I don’t know if it was the woods, it was too dark to tell but I heard twigs snapping. There were all these - animals, I guess. Peering out, watching. I didn’t see what type of animals either but they were definitely animal eyes.” It was easy enough to tell the difference, anyway. “No volcano though,” he sighed, one hand rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Sorry about that. It might be the same place though? And it’s obviously not here.” Blue's free hand was going for the switchblade. She didn't like stabbing people if they didn't deserve it, but sometimes it was necessary. She still remembered the vacant, faraway look in Adam's eyes when he had scried too far. The scar on the back of his hand from this exact switchblade was a reminder that safety came first. Even if it meant hurting another. The blade was out, her fingers tight around the grip when Richie came slamming back into reality. She hoped no one had been watching, but she sat back in her seat, and stabbed a piece of cantaloupe. His vision was helpful but generously vague, per usual. Blue made a huge huff of disappointment, waving off his apology. It wasn't Richie's fault. Even with her amplifying his powers, if this was the clearest they got, that meant something else was at play. She slid her hand out of Richie's, just to keep the ambient charging at a minimum, and offered him up the melon from her switchblade. "Eat something before you crash." And then she was frowning again, asking, "Were they all the same type of eyes? Some animals' pupils are different, you know, like goats." “They were different eyes, I could tell that much. Like some reptilian, some not,” Richie replied, smirking a bit at the offered melon. He ate it though, and chased it with some coffee - because passing out wouldn’t be helpful at all. Maybe he should get some damn waffles too. Or a cheeseburger. He wasn’t surprised that a vision wasn’t particularly helpful - last time, he’d done his best to make sense of the multiple visions that bludgeoned him, but for some reason, he just didn’t want to push his luck right now. Maybe it was the tarot cards - he seemed to get stronger visions with a combo of water scrying, and Blue’s amplification. Anyway. “Given all the hints we’ve gotten from the resort clues? I’m just getting shipwrecked on a deserted island with angry native vibes,” he guessed. “Add in a volcano. And angry animals. It’s not gonna be a fun time.” Another scoff, another unhappy face. She did not want to deal with mini-godzillas. Maybe even not mini. Maybe just regular sized godzillas. How was she going to protect Gansey from them? She was about to ask Richie if he ever dealt with reptilian monsters, when she felt smacked with an idea. "Wait, wait, wait, waitwaitwait," Blue said frantically, waving her hands to shush him even if he wasn't talking. If he was going to talk, it was a preemptive shushing. "I think you're on to something. You said natives. And deserted island, which technically we weren't on before at the hotel. It was a very populated resort. But, but—" Blue realized she was swinging the switchblade around so she put it down before continuing. "One of our clues was from the resort was from Island from Doctor Moreau, the whole Edward Prendick thing. I had to read it my sophomore year of high school, which honestly." Blue huffed, but continued. "Have you ever read it? It's all about this mad scientist who is going real Frankenstein on animals and people on his lone island and the Beast Folk—H.G. Wells called them that in the book not me—the Beast Folk lived in the woods on the island." Blue's eyes went wide at Richie, as if to say get it? "It still doesn't explain the volcano though." Oh, yeah, Richie was familiar with the Island of Doctor Moreau - he recalled the story, and he might have recalled a shitty movie version with Val Kilmer as well? Yikes. “I’ve read it,” he nodded and - fuck, that did make sense. “Like, pretty much the commonality of all the clues we got had to do with how savagery emerges in humans,” he continued. “That’s a strong theme in the story. And - well, the volcano could just be a part of the island. Same as the beast folk, whatever they are.” They were in for a shitshow, was what he was thinking. Either way. “But definitely agree with the mad scientist and Frankenstein on animals thing.” Add in Reginald Carstairs somehow, and they had a party going on. “So what should we do?” he asked, hands clenched around the coffee mug. “Tell Poe? I think he wanted to put together some kind of map to get an idea of what’s coming next?” "We're practically watching the savagery emerge from humans right now with this Survivor stuff," Blue said, going for a piece of honeydew. She should have been drinking coffee to keep her more alert, to think through better solutions to the things Richie had just seen, but her growth was already stunted. She didn't need to add to it. She considered Richie's question though: what did they do with this information now? "Yeah, we were going to redraw the map from memory. It doesn't really help though if we don't know where things are. Just avoid all future forests due to the possibility of hostile half-animal people living there, who have every right to be pissed, by the way, if we show up in their land and try to settle because—nevermind." She could feel herself getting soapboxy over hypothetical people who didn't exist, or maybe existed somewhere they hadn’t been yet. "We should tell Poe though. And maybe anyone else who might have more insight." Blue paused, chewing on the inside of her mouth. Trying to think ahead felt impossible; she was not nearly clever enough to figure it out, which she absolutely hated admitting. "Getting distracted by the stuff happening here is only going to fu—" Blue stopped, then started again. "Royally screw us over." Blue was obviously a smart cookie, and Richie - contrary to the impression his penchant for dick jokes and ‘your mom’ cracks may give off - was actually pretty intelligent too. But there was just no way to crack this code. There wasn’t. And if you put too many heads together, it just became a giant clusterfuck with nothing helpful emerging at all. He’d do what he could to help give people a little bit of warning though - like for the storm. Or the potential of lava-induced death. “I’ve always thought that. I mean, that the stupid-ass tasks or whatever are just distractions and if we keep getting tripped up by them, we’ll never learn the true reason why we’re here. I want to learn more about the bigger picture. And, unfortunately, I still think the bigger picture includes the haunted house somehow,” he huffed, fingers scritching at his stubbly jaw. “But okay, we’ll tell Poe and the others.” He was a bit bleary-eyed, probably, though he peered at Blue with the gaze of a concerned oldster - same look he often gave Adam. Or Charlie. “And hey, I know we make a pretty good scrying team, but I’m here if you need anything else, okay? Like. I’ll totally give you sage advice and make dad jokes in your general direction. Maybe remind you to drink your milk and stay in school.” Blue was not prone to theatrics, thank you very much, but she did do a big dramatic groan, dropping her head back against the seat. "Uuuugh, I hate the haunted house. We're supposed to be hashtag team lava." But the volcano was definitely the smaller picture, one hurdle in the entire racetrack of hurdles that they had to cover come. She was sitting back up straighter now, grumbling about the Carstairs, but agreeing he was right about it being the source of escape, when she sort of paused, staring right back at him. Blue seemed confused, her brows pinched together suspiciously. "Too late for milk," Blue replied, slowly. "And school is overrated, I'm taking a gap year after I graduate." She sounded proud about that one, like it was still an option. Maybe it could be, if they all picked up the pace on getting out of this merry-go-round of doors. She seemed like she was going to shake off the other offers; the only adults she respected and cared about were back home, not even noticing she was gone. But. "My dad is a tree, who was pretty much absent my entire life," Blue said, matter-of-factly. What was the use of hiding her weird family history? Her biggest secret was the suped-up psychic charger, and Richie already knew that one. "So you can imagine how many dad jokes you're going to have to say to make up the quota. I'm expecting at least one a day about arboreal culture." The thing about Blue and her friends was that they were technically adults, but clearly they’d been robbed of any semblance of a normal childhood - forced to grow up too fast, and goddamn if Richie didn’t know what that was like. So, in his view, it was never too late to like, insert himself into the position of giving a shit - they deserved to know that someone was looking out for them. And honestly, she had no idea the can of worms she’d just opened - dad jokes were Richie’s thing. “Well, I’m not leafing anytime soon,” he said, casually sipping on his coffee. “So I’m here to be your support branch.” Oh, ho, ho. Get ready, kid - there was more where that came from. Normally Blue would be against this sort of display; adults trying to bond with her. But this place was not normal, and quite frankly, neither was Blue. She had to get over her concepts of normal; they absolutely did not apply here. Her whole face scrunched up, her eyes narrowing, and Blue leaned in on her elbow, trying to appear taller for some reason. She gave off the vibe of that was not funny. "You're going to need to spruce up your material, if you really want to get to the root of tree humor," Blue deadpanned. And then followed it up with a smirk. Blue pointed, with her chin and the downward sweep of her eyes, to the forgotten spread. "You going to finish that?" Root of tree humor. “Oh, I see what you did there,” Richie grinned. Bright eyes followed the trajectory of where Blue was looking though, and for some reason he just didn’t want to push his luck. Or give his scrying buddy cause to use that switchblade. Looking into the future took a lot out of him - not to mention he’d be busy thinking about all the possibilities of what awaited them on Savagery Island anyway. “Nah, I think we should just make like a tree and leaf,” he suggested. “Try again another day.” Though maybe he’d take some waffles to go. That was always a good plan. Hey, you gotta hoard the breakfast-for-dinner foods while you could around here. |