the sky is falling! the sky is falling!
Characters: Rusty Setting: his room
When a blaring, air hornesque sound assaulted his eardrums, Rusty flailed around and fell directly out of bed, knocking his cheek on the wardrobe. He came down in a twist of blankets and his pillow landed on him as he struggled, making no progress as the sound continued.
"Ohmygod! Stop! No! Bad!" he shouted to no one. "Bad touch!" He stopped struggling for a moment, and sat up with some difficulty. His pillow flopped onto his lap, and he realized that while clearly there was an air raid happening somewhere, he wasn't actually being attacked, and his fight to the death was with inanimate, harmless objects.
"Right." he said to himself. Idiot. Jessy whispered in his ear. He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know." he muttered. He took far longer than he ever would have admitted to upon pain of death to get himself untangled and upright, and he trudged, half hopping as he got his foot free, losing a sock in the process. He rubbed at his cheek, thinking that was going to leave a mark, and he stared at his computer. Then he bounced on his feet slightly, because he had a computer.
And holy shit he needed that fucking noise to stop. He reached out and hit the space bar, and there was blissful silence! "Woot!" he said, sitting down and ignoring Jessy's whispers some more. Then he frowned as he read what the computer said. He got a welcome message, which was fine and all, but then there was a whole lot about...er...stocks? Huh?
Rusty looked around at other things, noticed the journal stuff, saw that someone was super not at all going to do this stocks thing, and he was sort of wondering what the hell alternate reality he'd gotten dropped into. No one did that kind of thing anymore. The last time he'd seen stocks was in that one movie with the guy with the knight stuff and a David Bowie song. He thought. There were stocks in that, right? Now he wanted to re-watch it.
He glanced around his room properly at that point, rubbing at his cheek once more, then sighed, shrugged, and got up to change clothes, and go report...well. Somewhere, he guessed. He had no idea what the hell he was doing, so he might as well wing it, right?
Because that works out well for you. You always fuck up when you wing it, darling. Jessy reminded him. Rusty ignored her.