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Tweak says, "foood stuuuufs"

Richie Trashmouth Tozier (trashmouthloser) wrote in snapthread,
@ 2019-10-23 19:28:00

Entry tags:

barbara gordon, dick grayson, eddie kaspbrak, gamewide plot, natasha romanoff (mcu), remus lupin, richie tozier, siri tachi (sw), sirius black

Who: Anyone who wants to have a comfortable but bad time.
What: Some Spoop at the Overlook: Haunted Psychic Hotel of Doom
Where: Sidewinder, Colorado
When: Length of the Halloween Plot.

During the warm summer and spring months, The Overlook Hotel in Sidewinder, Colorado does excellent business: visitors thrive on a wonderful view of the Rocky Mountains while being able to enjoy remote quiet and catered comfort.

In the winter though, the snow is too plentiful and dangerous to allow visitors to come and go freely — and so the Hotel becomes a sleepy quiet place with less than a skeleton staff. The empty halls, fully stocked kitchen and bars and choice pick of rooms should be a delight for anyone who ends up there. But the halls are less empty and quiet than what they might originally appear.

All roads lead to Room 237.

[Party thread rules, tag your threads in the header of your comments, you can set your thread on any day from now until the end of the event]

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-11-19 10:45 pm UTC (link)

Richie did not love the key. It felt heavy and important and not in a good way and Richie didn't know how the fuck they kept getting into situations like this -- the kind where everything they did was a lead up to something awful and murderous. Richie really didn't fucking want shit like that. He wanted bad jokes and excessive amounts of domestic bliss. This was all bullshit and it was so tiring.

"Our child would be a goddamned delight, Kaspbrak. She'd have your big-ass eyes and my sense of humor and would become the most well-liked person in the history of ever." Obviously their inexplicable alternate reality child was a girl. Richie refused to think about which one of them would be though, because he was just too fucking gay to even imagine a woman in a relationship these days. "It's mostly just a shame she can't pronounce her own last name because some fuckwad added silent letters."

They were going up to that room. Neither of them wanted to, but wandering around waiting for not-delightful children to show up and murder them seemed bad too. When they were back by the elevator, Richie hit the up button, and then waited -- a little unnerved that the doors didn't just open immediately because hadn't they been the last ones to use this thing, anyway?

"If you get stabbed again," Richie said, mildly, "I'm going to have to start assuming you're just a collector with a really bad hobby."

That was when the elevator doors dinged open.

And blood rushed out of it in waves.

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The Losers

ekaspbrak
2019-11-21 09:28 pm UTC (link)

After everything they'd been through in their actual lives Eddie would've thought that he and Richie deserved a break. They deserved a little down time to just relax, huddle together, and be happy in their relationship. They deserved to not open a door and walk into a murder hotel or be faced with a demon Pomeranian. The door to a possible beach vacation should've just been a door to a fucking beach vacation. Life just seemed to hate them. So much.

Little things about it weren't that bad. The hypotheticals. The idea of a little girl with his eyes and Richie's sense of humor was actually pretty cute. Impossible but cute. "The extra letters are fucking silent, Tozier!" He insisted. "Pronunciation won't be the problem. Spelling will be the big fucking problem." Just all the extra letters and where the hell he planner to fit them in or arrange them so they flowed because he couldn't be Kasbprak-Tozier-XYZ since there was a Z in their last name already. He'd figure it out. Once they made it through here he was going to find paper and a pen.

Thoughts like that were going to keep him moving. The idea of having this conversation again later and annoying the fuck out of Richie with it would give him something to work towards. Something brighter and a little more hopeful because it involved their future together. Not the child, of course, (she was imaginary and hypothetical) but the last name and the idea of marriage. It would keep him going because, apparently, Richie really wanted them to be murdered by whatever was lurking behind in that fucking room.

"A free knife is a free-" He stopped, smile disappearing from his face as literal waves of blood rushed out of the elevator towards them. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He took a step back, eyes impossibly wide as he grabbed onto Richie's arm in an attempt to pull him away. To run. This was hell. His own personal hell. A fussy hotel with horrible guest security and tons of blood.

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-11-23 02:45 am UTC (link)

A free knife is a free knife would have been fucking hilarious if Eddie'd ever had time to get through the whole joke. But he hadn't and Richie was too busy gaping like an absolute idiot at the rush of blood that was coming out of the elevator. More than he thought an elevator could possibly hold -- and he didn't know why the fuck his brain was trying to math out the volume of blood that should or should not have been able to be stored in an elevator, because that was the exact kind of shit that wasn't even remotely normal and shouldn't have been a thing in the first place.

Just like horror houses, demon Pomeranians , and alien eldritch clowns shouldn't have been a thing. But there they'd been, and here they were. And Richie didn't actually get it into his brain that he ought to be running until Eddie was tugging at his arm and it didn't really matter by that point anyway -- they weren't possibly fast enough to avoid the majority of it.

"Eddie!" Why was it always his default to just scream Eddie's name every time something awful was happening? It didn't matter, clinging or running or not, they were absolutely soaked in crimson, until the elevator was empty and everything in the nearby hall was a giant puddle of horror. "Fuck me," he said, voice cracking, eyes too big behind his glasses. "So this is how Bev felt."

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The Losers

ekaspbrak
2019-11-26 05:21 am UTC (link)

They didn't make it. Honestly, there was no way they could've. They were too close and they'd lost too much time just standing around and watching it happen while their brains tried to make sense of it. The only thing he could do was grip as tightly to Richie's hand as he possible, afraid of losing him in the rush of blood. It was strong enough to displace some of the furniture in the hall, push it away from the walls and forward so it would definitely be enough to knock two idiots off their feet.

When it was over, when the blood had all poured out of the elevator and left them soaked and the hall very nearly resembling Bev's bathroom Eddie remained completely silent. He looked down at himself, at his soaked and stained clothing, at the hands covered in blood he couldn't wipe off because there was just... blood everywhere and immediately narrowed his eyes. He was covered in blood. He was soaked in it. He was dirty and so very unhappy. All he'd wanted was to tease Richie. To joke about knives and names and imaginary children. He just wanted to go to the fucking beach and pretend they were looking for curtains. He just wanted to have something fucking nice for a change.

"What the actual fuck!" He yelled, clearly more angry than scared this time. It was something that only happened a few times but had him stomping his way through the blood towards the elevator. As a child getting angry had helped save them. It meant that that stupid clown lost some of Its power. He'd kicked It in the face back then. As an adult getting angry had been enough to inspire him to reach out and hurt It. If the leper hadn't thrown up on him when it had there was a chance that Eddie could've killed It in the drug store. He probably wasn't going to kill a ghost but he wasn't about to run away from it either. He was too angry to run.

"Do you still have the key?" He asked as he glared at the elevator. "If this thing wants us to fucking find it then we're going to fucking find it."

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-11-27 02:51 am UTC (link)

Richie didn't want to find any ghost. He really, really fucking didn't. But ghosts always seemed to want to find them regardless of what he wanted.

They were messes, the two of them, blood everywhere and Eddie's shoes squeaked with it when he stomped back to the elevator and Richie was hot on his heels because being separated was such a bad fucking idea. And because there was blood covering the lenses of his glasses and no amount of wiping at them fixed the problem -- no clean spot on his clothes in which to undo the damage. He couldn't see shit. Everything was a bright red smudge.

But he still had the key, safe in his pocket. And Eddie was angry and sometimes, yeah, anger was the way to go. The way to get things done and to face fears they'd usually otherwise try hiding from.

He swallowed back bile, an acid burning at the back of his throat, and took his glasses off in order to squint at Eddie. "Second floor," he said, instead of answering directly. Because the room number had been for 237, that was the door the key would unlock.

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The Losers

ekaspbrak
2019-11-27 06:39 pm UTC (link)

Anger was going to get them through this. Anger was going to get him through this. It was going to keep him moving forward. It was going to make him face whatever it was that was trying to draw them towards the door. It was better than the alternative. Better than working himself into an anxiety attack. Better than giving in to that fear and freezing up, relying on Richie and only Richie to get him through this. This wasn't Neibolt. It wasn't the source of their childhood trauma. They weren't about to die in this place. That meant he could move forward a little more easily.

"Second floor." He murmured before roughly jabbing at the button a few times as if that would get them there faster, get this over with quicker. The elevator was probably a nightmare too but Eddie wasn't taking the time to really look at it. There was too much of a risk that seeing the elevator covered with blood, seeing Richie covered with blood would startle him enough to knock the anger out of him. If he wasn't angry there was a chance he'd just be scared.

Anger didn't mean he was completely ignorant of Richie's own feelings. Of the fact that his boyfriend probably couldn't see very well. That he was probably scared out of his fucking mind as well. That knowledge made him angrier somehow. It was bad enough that he was scared and covered in blood. Richie didn't deserve this shit. Reaching out he took ahold of the other's hand and let out a sigh, trying to look calmer as he turned to look at the other. Richie looked like a nightmare. "Are you okay?" He managed to ask. It was a short elevator ride but he could still ask.

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-11-27 11:16 pm UTC (link)

Now wasn't really the time to think about how an angry Eddie was kind of a hot Eddie, but it wasn't like Richie had ever really been able to stop the shit that popped up unto his brain. He was only lucky, that in this instance, it was fleeting thing, gone as soon as it arrived. Not because it wasn't true (it was. Also, Eddie was always hot), but because nothing felt very sexy when he was covered head to toe in blood.

Fuck this place.

"Yeah," Rich said, smiling bright (teeth flashing white, the only thin on him that wasn't stained red) at the Eddie shaped red blob in front of him, "Peachy fucking keen, Spagheds. A shitty hotel on it's period isn't gonna scare me." He was scared. But he wasn't going to admit it, not with Eddie rushing into shit angry. Not when he could pretend he was brave instead. He tightened his grip on Eddie's hand and the elevator pinged open, offering a hallway that felt strangely mediocre in comparison to the previous rush of blood.

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The Losers

ekaspbrak
2019-11-28 02:41 am UTC (link)

That was a fucking lie but, at least, Richie was still talking. Still making jokes. He was working through this shit in his own way. That was a good thing. They could freak out about this once they were home. Once they had showered and thrown out their bloody clothes. Once they were curled up together in the hammock or in bed. They could cling to each other and not say a word or say too much and just work through this.

The hallway was mediocre. Familiar. There were no scary children this time just the awful carpet. Somehow it made him angrier. The thought that the elevators had managed to hold that much blood in them and only doused the two of them. The fact that he wasn't seeing blood on every surface like he had when he walked into Beverly's bathroom. The fact that anything could be nice and clean-ish when he was denied even that comfort by this place. It had him fuming.

"Can I have the key?" Because he was angry and he was more likely to try and kick the door down once he got to the fucking room. Having the key meant he'd save himself the embarrassment of trying to kick in a door that was probably pretty sturdy. Sure, Richie was going to be the only one who saw it but there was bound to be a little teasing about it later. When they were safe. When they felt better. When they could look back at all of this and joke. Not that they'd ever been able to joke about It or even look back at the experience and pull humor from it. This would be different. They wouldn't forget this. "Or... no. You hold onto the key and open the door. We'll go through together and I'll figure out how I'm going to kill that fucking ghost."

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-11-29 10:24 pm UTC (link)

There wasn't much that kept Richie quiet for too long, but abject horror kinda tended to do him in. He could offer a joke or two, but when it came down to it, his jaw sort of ended up clenching and he preferred to bury his face in some (any) part of Eddie and try to let it all pass around him.

He hated it, though. And he was getting tired of it, of being soaked in gray water, dirt, blood. The only thing that made this remotely okay right now was that the blood he was currently wearing wasn't Eddie's this time. And because of that, when Eddie asked for the key, and then backtracked somewhat, Richie steeled himself and pulled the key from his pocket.

"It's a doorway, numbnuts," he said, squaring up in front of the door it was meant to open. "No one walks through two at a time. I'll go first." Like fucking hell was he going to let Eddie take point and be vulnerable to whatever was inside that room. He pushed the key in the lock, and it took two tries because he was vibrating -- or maybe just trembling -- and then turned it before pushing the door wide open.

And there, instead of a room full of more blood and ghosts and killer clowns or whatever the fuck, was the room full of other Doors. The town. At least, that's what it looked like to him, but then, he'd given up on his glasses and everything was a blur. "Eds?" He asked for confirmation, quiet.

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The Losers

ekaspbrak
2019-12-03 11:26 pm UTC (link)

Honestly, Eddie really hadn't minded having Richie's face pressed into him... or the attempt that had been mad because he was soaked in sticky blood too and he doubted Richie was going to want to press his face against any of that. He didn't even want to cling to Richie. Getting tired of it, however, was probably a good thing. It was kinda like Eddie deciding to get angry instead of scared. It would move Richie forward instead of freezing him in place. So maybe Eddie missed the comfort he always managed to steal from that contact but he was proud of Richie.

For a moment, anyway. He wasn't really happy about the teasing. "You know that's not what I fucking meant." He huffed because, yes, maybe his mind had wandered back to the doors. Back to the last time they had been forced to make a decision and the ones they made on their own were wrong. He'd told Richie that the next time they'd go through the regular Scary door but he meant that they'd do it together. They'd face the things that scared them together.

He wasn't happy about Richie's newfound bravado because he didn't like the idea of the other going first. He was pretty sure it had something to do with having watched Eddie die beneath that house. That this was his way of making sure that never happened again. He appreciated it, sure, but it also meant Richie was making himself vulnerable and Eddie sort of hated that. He let it slide. For the moment, anyway.

Once the door was, finally, open they were confronted with... nothing Eddie had expected. It just hall they had been standing in before. The one full of doors. They were back in town and Eddie was a little disappointed. He was definitely something because he'd been ready for a fight. Now he was just covered in blood and miserable, a little tired as the anger and the adrenaline rush that came with it slipped away. "I guess I'm not figuring out how to kill a ghost." He said, moving past Richie to go first but making sure to grab his hand as he went. "I call first shower."

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The Losers

trashmouthloser
2019-12-05 03:29 am UTC (link)

The thing was, Richie would do most anything Eddie asked without question (although not always without complaint) but there were some things that he simply wouldn't be able to give up. Stuff like ... putting Eddie before himself. He couldn't do that. He simply couldn't. Even if it if was selfish or unfair, Richie was always going to value Eddie over himself. Those were just facts and it didn't matter if Eddie tabled the discussion for later or not.

"I hate ghosts," he decided, his hand slippery in Eddie's. But his relief was real and it felt easier to breathe one they were out of that hotel and back in what was now the real world. Their world anyway. Everything was still a blurry mess, but he knew it all well enough by now where it wasn't like he needed guiding even without his glasses. "Dude, we're sharing the shower," he said, thinking it completely unbelievable that Eddie wanted to go first. What was Richie supposed to do? Just stand there, soaked and bloodstained, for the million hours it'd take for Eddie to finally feel clean? No way. This wasn't even a flirty thing, not even remotely. It was just... smarter. More efficient. And maybe Richie couldn't tolerate the concept of being away from Eddie for that long, not right now.

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