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Mark Cohen is addicted to unhealthy relationships ([info]mydocumentary) wrote in [info]wariscoming,
@ 2011-06-02 22:54:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:mark cohen, roger davis

Who: Mark and Roger (and some NPCed not so nice guys)
What: The boys get a freaky sense of deja vu
When: Friday morning
Where: An alley in the middle of Lawrence
Rating: With their mouths? Probably an R
Status: Incomplete


Mark was not in the best of moods to begin with.

One minute he was at Angel's funeral, yelling at Roger, trying to help Mimi, trying to ignore Benny...a usual day in his life. Camera in hand, he filmed the whole thing, despite Roger's accusations that he tended to hide behind the piece of equipment.

The next minute, he was...well, he was definitely not in New York City. The landscape around him had changed drastically. The cemetery was gone, his friends were gone, and everything looked...terrifying. Only because it wasn't where he'd just been.

Mark's stomach flipped, his knees went weak, and the early stages of panic began to set in. He gripped his camera tightly in his hand, wishing like hell it could show him what had just happened. And he might have played the tape back a dozen times if it weren't for the guys who walked up to him.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Looks scared. You scared?"

Not again. What? Did he have a sign on him that said, 'Hey, I can be beat up!' Better to ignore them. Especially since he didn't even have a clue who they were. He didn't even know what neighborhood they were in. One had a southern drawl, the other had no distinct accent at all. No help there.

"You stupid or something? I'm talking to you."

Ignoring them wasn't going to work. So Mark did the only thing he could think. He turned and started to walk away. He had no idea where to go or where he was headed, but he knew staying there wasn't going to be in his best interest.

"That's cute," the heavier set of the two called out, "you think you can just walk away. No manners. Get your ass back here."

Before Mark could reply, he felt a hand pushing him from behind. He stumbled, only catching himself by reaching for the wall of the building closest to him. "Seriously, guys, chill, ok? Let me go and we won't have any problems." All he could think was he hoped he sounded more brave than he actually was.

But the shorter man snickered. "I don't think so." Mark did all he could not to flinch, but it was hard when he was suddenly being used as a human game of pong. Despite himself, he clutched the camera close. For the moment, it was the only thing familiar to him.


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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-03 03:43 am UTC (link)
For once, Roger did not have his guitar in hand. He was up early for once, unable to sleep. The tether thing had been weird, but he was getting used to being alone again. It was nice. He was able to write now. Okay. Not so much. He was still stuck, searching for that 'one last song'. He knew that there were advancements in HIV treatment. Hell, he had just read an article on someone who had been cured by a bone marrow transplant. But that didn't mean the displaced musician had much hope for himself. You don't go two years thinking you're going to die, watch one of your best friends die from what you have, and just be all 'Oh, I'm in the future, I'm going to be fine!' Because well, you just didn't.

Heading towards a coffee shop he had been frequenting, Roger's attention was drawn towards a scuffle. Obviously Lawrence had it's fair share of thugs as well. Really, he should just walk along. It wasn't like this was his problem. But for some strange reason, Roger slowed down. After all, it could be one of the kids from the Complex or something. There was something... familiar... about this. And while Roger wasn't nearly as reckless as he had been since contracting his death sentence, he wasn't some meek little girl. Especially as he saw a familiar flash of sunlight against black. A camera. A specific camera. Mark?!

"Hey! Leave him alone, assholes!" And without another thought (since really, Roger wasn't the most pragmatic of their group), Roger jumped into the fray. Oh sure, he needed to be careful, HIV and all. It would be wrong to spread the infection. But these punks were picking on Mark! And that just was not cool. So it was throwing punches, as well as getting punched himself. Grunting as he hit a wall, Roger's eyes blazed and he grabbed a pipe on the ground.

"Want to come at me!?" Striking at the larger of the group, Roger advanced slowly and watched as the jerks ran off. Dropping the pipe, Roger turned and looked at Mark, quirking a brow.

"Is this going to be a regular thing, Mark? I might have to start charging you." Smirking some, the musician moved over and hugged his best friend (man hug, of course). It had been a while since Roger had seen the film maker, and well, he missed him, nagging and all. Stepping back, Roger crossed his arms. He knew he had a lot to explain, and he didn't exactly know where Mark was from, but judging by his outfit, he would hazard a guess that it was Angel's funeral. Well, that dampened his mood.

And then he realized, if Mark couldn't take care of himself from some simple street thugs, how was he going to go up against the crazy in this world? Oh. Roger had so much to explain...

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-04 02:49 am UTC (link)
Mark could have taken care of himself just fine, thanks. Or at least, that's what he told himself when he shook himself as his 'rescuer' jumped into the fray. If he hadn't been so confused already, he might have at least stood a chance.

But he didn't get much chance to think about that. What he did get to think about was who had just jumped in to save him. It wasn't hard to recognize him. No one knew Roger Davis like Mark did. They'd seen good and bad together and recently, mostly bad. But the deja vu feeling of having the younger man step in and take on a bunch of overgrown schoolyard bullies was overwhelming.

Unlike Roger, it hadn't been a long time since Mark had seen him. It had, in fact, only been a few minutes, less than an hour tops. And they certainly hadn't been in a hugging mood. So when Roger pulled Mark in for a quick squeeze, he had to tense. This just felt...weird.

Of course, then the familiar teasing tone popped up and the barest of smiles crossed Mark's face. Sure, he'd been all but ready to throw his own punches earlier, particularly at Roger. But he had just saved his life, after all. Or, well, at least his face. But he could only think of one thing to say: "What the hell's going on?"

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-04 03:29 am UTC (link)
Roger expected that. He'd be worried if Mark didn't ask that, actually. After all, this really was not the most normal of situations. Oh, he had noticed the tensing of his best friend, but Roger ignored it. Mostly because he was used to the whole... different time lines thing thanks to the bitch. But it still felt good to have Mark around. Because maybe things would get semi-normal now that Roger had a familiar face around that wasn't out to piss him off. And at least Mark had someone familiar with both his world and this world to help him out.

"You won't believe me, but c'mon. I'll take you to where I'm staying so I can explain." Motioning for the film maker to follow, Roger led the two bohemians from the alleyway and back towards the complex. Well, at least he had tea for Mark to drink. That would help calm his best friend. Or so the hope was.

Once inside, Roger motioned for Mark to make himself at home before heading to the kitchen and making the tea. The question was how to explain this. It wasn't like it was something easy to say. And Roger wasn't exactly known for his tact. But he would try. If he was right, Mark would still be reeling from the death of Angel. That was no place to come into this. Sitting opposite of Mark, Roger sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Okay. Where to start. Well. We're in Lawrence, Kansas. It's June 3, 2011. I don't know what Jews say about the end of the world or what not, but that's basically where we are. Apocalypse and all that shit. Some mythical seal broke and is dragging people from different dimensions to this place to fight in some epic battle of good and evil. Crazy shit happens, and we're from a fucking musical called RENT. So we're not even real. We're fucking characters."

Shaking his head, Roger sipped his own tea, looking out to the window.

"Anyway, this place is free for the fucked over like us. Protection symbols and shit to keep demons and angels out."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-04 02:27 pm UTC (link)
Where he was staying? But he was staying with him. Just as he had since he'd gotten out of rehab. All Roger's words did was confuse Mark further. But he was too shell-shocked to argue and gamely, he followed along behind him, crossing a few streets and ending up at an apartment complex far different from their own. Somehow, instinctively, Mark knew Mimi didn't live on the floor above them in this one. Them? Who was he kidding, he didn't live there at all!

He took the offered seat, shrugging out of the suit jacket that had become impossibly warm. It was odd, seeing Roger doing something so domestic. Taking care of him, making tea, acting the protector role in more than a physical sense. That was Mark's job. But he knew he wouldn't be protecting anyone, not just then. Instead, he simply accepted the tea and listened, not drinking but rather looking down into the cup.

Mark wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction was supposed to be to Roger's speech. Shock, perhaps. Or maybe amazement. But he simply lifted his eyebrows, looking over at the songwriter with a bit of worry in his eyes. "Roger, you haven't... I mean, that is to say... You're not..." He coughed a bit, clearing his throat. "You're not using again, are you?"

Which was horrible to even consider but really, he had been through an awful lot lately. Mimi falling apart and them losing Angel and all. Having to watch their friend deteriorate knowing that there was a chance someday it would be him. Even the strongest might turn a bit weak through all of that, and Mark wouldn't blame him. They'd get help, again, and keep moving, just as they always had.

But honestly. 2011? Musical characters? What?

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-05 01:31 am UTC (link)
Yes, Roger was being domestic. It wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, but he knew how crazy this world was and figured it would help Mark to have tea. At least it wasn't being filmed, he would never live it down. Especially if Maureen found out. Oh god, that was something he didn't need happening. Ever. He couldn't stand the bitch to begin with, but if she knew about him being all... nurturing and shit? Well, she would be even more unbearable, if that were even possible.

But then Mark was asking if he was using again and all Roger could do was stare at his best friend in shock before jumping up.

"What?! Fuck no! I've been clean for two years now, I'm not about to fuck with that! Really, Mark?" Pacing some, Roger ran his fingers through his hair in agitation, obviously offended that Mark seemed to think so little of him. That's what it felt like. "Shit, Mark. I'm actually seeing a doctor regularly. Okay, so it was his idea but I'm going along with it."

Letting out a breath, Roger looked to his computer. Well, it would be a culture shock for Mark, but whatever. Moving to the desk, the musician looked to Mark, having calmed down slightly.

"Come over here." As he waited, Roger went to YouTube and typed in RENT, picking La Vie Boheme for their viewing pleasure. Once he was certain Mark was there, Roger clicked play and stepped back so Mark could see for himself that they were indeed in a musical.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-06 09:08 pm UTC (link)
Instinctively, Mark held up his hands in an almost defensive posture as Roger jumped up to scold him for his assumptions. Okay, fine. Who could blame him for asking, though? Though he was pretty sure Roger hadn't ever come up with any complete delusions while on smack, he could have found a new drug of choice.

But the more he thought about it, the more Mark knew Roger was right. Well, partially, at least. Because nothing made sense about him having seen Roger less than half an hour prior and now they were in the middle of nowhere. How? And more so, why? Apocalypse? Even if he believed in any of that bull, what would bring him into the fold? He didn't know the first thing about banishing a devil or Hell or whatever.

Mark didn't know what YouTube was. He didn't even know what Roger's computer was, to be honest. Oh, sure, he'd been on a computer before, he wasn't stupid. But even Collins' high scale, school-issued one wasn't as sleek or as polished looking as the machine Roger sat himself in front of and used like he'd done so a million times.

But the computer was nothing compared to the shock of watching what actually played on the screen. Oh, sure, he remembered the night at the Life Cafe. They'd have been turned away if it hadn't been for Angel's generosity, and that tiny reminder brought a little pang to his chest. But sure as hell, there they all were, for the world to see.

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "I...no. That's just...creepy. Maybe someone just got a hold of the filming I've been doing..." Which meant Mark was much more accepting of time traveling than he was being a character in someone else's writing. But it still wouldn't make sense, because there he was, on the screen, camera in hand. Unless someone else was making a documentary that night, it was physically impossible.

"That...that's some crazy shit, man." Which was about all he could manage.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-07 12:56 am UTC (link)
Roger felt bad for Mark. After all, he knew what it was like to find out you were fictional, let alone a character in a fucking musical. That was just, well, it was unsettling.

"Definitely crazy shit. There's also a guy here, Freddie? He looks like me only... more clean cut." Which wasn't hard to do, really. Roger was scruffy and had long hair and well, he was a bohemian. Whereas Freddie was, in a word, Freddie. Roger still didn't know what to make of his face twin. He enjoyed getting drinks with him, and trying to play chess was interesting though Roger really didn't have the patience for it. But seeing Freddie get so passionate about it was amusing. Mostly because it was nothing more than a game to the musician. But passion was a good thing, so Roger wouldn't begrudge Freddie the game.

"Okay. So, now you can see I'm not fucked up on something." Because seriously, Roger didn't pull such elaborate pranks. Nor would he have been able to procure such a computer or YouTube, or get a bunch of people to sing and dance their way through a life incident in such a short amount of time. The question now lay with Mark. How would he react.

Poor fool didn't even know his whore of an ex was there. But he'd save that. For once Mark was a bit more settled and not clean off the train to crazy land that this place was.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-07 01:11 am UTC (link)
A clean-cut Roger? Heaven forbid. "Yeah..." Mark shook his head, shock slowly fading to just plain amazement. He was just grateful it was twenty years later and Roger was still alive, if he was being honest. But then, did that count? They hadn't aged, had they?

Wait. Had they?

"Are we the same age?" he blurted, then shook his head. No. That sounded wrong. "I mean, as we were. Even if it's...what, 2011?" So freaking weird. That wasn't going to be easy to deal with...well, ever. Twenty years. Almost, anyway. Fifteen, really? Whatever. Regardless, he'd missed several years. He'd never find out if Dennis Rodman was declared legally insane. Or if O.J. was found guilty. He had over a decade of pop culture and news to catch up on!

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-07 01:25 am UTC (link)
Good. Shock was wearing away. Roger didn't have to feel so awkward now that he didn't have to worry about walking on egg shells. Not that Roger was doing that anyway because it was Roger and he didn't know how to ease into things, but still, the feeling was gone that he had to be completely careful. The one good thing was that Mark was from relatively the same place in time he was, so it wasn't like he was far behind in what Roger knew, or vice versa. Because that would be weird.

And here came the questions. Which Roger expected because who wouldn't have questions in this situation? A crazy person, and while Mark filmed odd documentaries (Seriously, his inability to hold an erection on the high holy days?) and had poor taste in women (whores who walked all over him), Mark wasn't crazy. Even if Roger liked to mock him for the Maureen thing.

"Yeah. I'm still twenty seven. Which is weird. But the seal thing pulls people from their own time and brings them here. The whore is here. Only from around Valentine's Day I think?" Really, Roger should ask Mark the last thing he remembered, but Roger had mad skills of deduction. More like, Mark didn't dress up much, so the fact he was sort of dressed up meant that it had to be the funeral.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-07 01:45 am UTC (link)
Would Roger never let him live that on eensy film down? It had seemed a good idea at the time. A focus on religion and its effects on people's sexuality. He just happened to include himself in it. Which sort of meant outing that little fact for the world to see. Granted, no one had actually watched it, other than Roger, who swore it was for moral support but now Mark was starting to think it was just to flip through for blackmail material.

The whore. Maureen. It was just a given, even Roger didn't go around calling women derogatory names. Women who weren't Maureen.

And, despite himself, even after all that time, Mark's eyes lit up. "Maureen's here, too?" he asked eagerly. And then it hit him. From Valentine's Day. It was Halloween. How was it even possible for them to be eight months apart? "How? How can she be that far from... I mean... So she doesn't know about..." Then he paused. What if Roger didn't know about Angel? "How does that work? Where are you from, then? Or, well, when are you from?"

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-07 01:56 am UTC (link)
Yes. Moral support. That was Roger's story and he was sticking to it. But it really was amazing blackmail. And of course he brought it up whenever he could. Besides, Mark picked on his writer's block and the fact that he kept playing Musetta's Waltz. Or what sounded like Musetta's Waltz. So of course Roger would bring up that little documentary. It was perfectly justified! Of course, if he bothered to read the basis of RENT or the character correlations, he would never play Musetta's Waltz again. Ever.

Of course, seeing Mark's eyes light up at the mention of Maureen made Roger groan.

"Really, Mark? Really? After all the shit she put you through? Hell, she tried to fuck me while she was with you!" Which really had been the line for Roger. You just don't do that to a person. He may be a jerk, but he still wouldn't fucking cheat on someone he was with. And the fact that Maureen tried to cheat on Mark with him, Mark's best friend? That was even worse.

Shaking his head, Roger sighed.

"But yes. She's here. She got here around the same time I did. Annoying as fuck." And then Mark was asking him where he was from and the musician sighed, "November... I was driving in Santa Fe, thinking about coming back home and I ended up here."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-07 02:21 am UTC (link)
Mark wasn't stupid, anymore than he was crazy. He knew Maureen was bad for him. Hell, he was just lucky he hadn't picked up some gross STD from her if he was being honest. But Roger couldn't understand the hold the woman had on him. For their differences, it was one reason Mark really liked Joanne. She understood. Maureen was charisma and fire and passion and unfortunately, she was that way with nearly everyone she met. When she hooked you, she hooked you hard.

But he was (mostly) over that. He had to fight the wince that crossed his face when Roger reminded him of Maureen putting the moves on him. That had been breakup number, what, a thousand? "I'm just glad to have someone else around," he admitted, shrugging. Would he rather it be Collins, maybe round out their little trio? Definitely. Or Mimi, so Roger could work things out with her before the world apparently ended. But at least it was someone he knew.

"So after me, then. You were going to come home?" Okay, call him a sentimental sappy idiot. He'd known, even as they'd hurled insults at each other, that he was going to be devastated to lose Roger.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-07 02:31 am UTC (link)
Roger really should be more understanding. After all, he knew what it was like to have someone hook you ridiculously hard. April had been his everything. And then she had fucking left him instead of decide to try and fight the sickness that was eating him alive. Leaving Mark to pick up the pieces. Just as Roger did for Mark during every breakup he had with Maureen. But still, April hadn't cheated on him. Besides, Mark knew Roger had issues with cheaters given his mother.

At the same time, he could understand the fact that having familiarity was definitely a good thing. While Roger would have preferred anyone over Maureen (Hell, maybe even Benny assuming he came from a time before he was a complete sell out), it was at least good to know he wasn't suffering this alone. So he just gave a nod to show he understood that comment about having someone else around.

And then there was the question about him coming home and Roger cleared his throat.

"Yeah... Santa Fe was nice, but it wasn't home." Feeling slightly awkward at the sentimentality, albeit small as it was Roger, the musician tried to cover it up, "Besides, who else is going to make sure you don't get your ass kicked?" Because god forbid Roger admit to having an actual home, something he never really felt like he had had growing up. And well, Mark in all his weird geeky ways had been home. That and Mimi, not being able to get her out of his head. But really, it was home.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-07 03:53 pm UTC (link)
"I can take care of myself," Mark argued. Barely a beat passed before he burst out laughing. Seeing as Roger had come along and bailed him out twice by that point, they both knew that wasn't exactly true. "Which reminds me, you really should put something on that." The bruise on Roger's face was growing from a punch he'd taken and Mark was just silently grateful no blood had been shed. Apparently the Apocalypse didn't cure you from HIV.

He was afraid to ask. He knew Roger sometimes thought he nagged, and maybe he did. But as much as Roger took care of Mark, Mark did the same for him. After April's suicide, he'd gone into a paternal sort of mode and part of him had stayed there. Sorry, he worried, so? He'd told Roger in a moment of anger, but it was true: some day, he'd lose them all, and he'd be alone. The better care Roger took of himself, the longer he'd have before that happened.

"You said you're seeing a doctor," he asked quietly, sitting back down to prevent his shaking knees from giving out. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-07 05:54 pm UTC (link)
Mark's comment on being able to take care of himself caused Roger to quirk an unbelieving brow. Mark, take care of himself? That was just hilarious. And Mark seemed to realize it as well as he was laughing, which got Roger to laugh as well. How long had it been since the two had really been able to laugh at something together? Roger with his brooding and all. Yes, he'd gotten better in knowing Angel and Mimi, but still, it wasn't often as he was then helping Mimi with her constant relapses, watching Angel fade away in those last months... knowing it could be him next. But to actually laugh? That was something.

"Hmm? Oh. Right." For all of his taking care of Mark, Roger really didn't do so great at taking care of himself. He took his medicine, went to his appointments, but simple things like taking care of a bruise? That tended to escape him. Making his way to the kitchen, Roger made an ice pack and returned to the living room, with it on his face. Just in time for the question about the doctor.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Still taking my medicine, he just wants to keep on top of it. Apparently this place made advancements in medicine. Read an article about a guy that was cured even. But I'm not holding my breath that it will be an option for me."

Roger never was an optimist. He was a realist. Or pessimist. Either way.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-08 01:12 am UTC (link)
Mark's eyes widened with surprise at Roger's admission. A cure. An actual cure? Oh, sure, it's what they'd all hoped for. And they were several years in the future, all the smartest people in the world working on it for so long had to come to some good. But an actual cure? He couldn't entirely grasp it. "But why just him?" he began, his voice both worried and eager at the same time. "Why couldn't it be you? Or everyone? What did he do differently?"

Any time he could get extra was enough to give him hope. Mark only desperately wished that Collins and Mimi were there, too, if that's what it got them. And Angel. If Maureen was there from before his and Roger's time, why couldn't Angel be? Was that even possible? Could they go back and change time?

Well. No. Probably not, not if they were actually fictional. But it could get them some more time. And if they really were there to prevent the end of the world, did it even matter? "Hey," he asked suddenly, not even knowing if Roger would have the answer. "What happens back home? I mean, I'm pretty sure we would have noticed Maureen being gone for months at a time, don't you think?"

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-08 01:27 am UTC (link)
Of course Mark would ask why he couldn't be included in those who could be cured. It was a fair question, after all, if one person could be cured, why not him? Too bad things weren't that simple. Not for Roger, at least.

"The guy was also dying of cancer. Had a bone marrow transplant. The bone was from a region that's apparently resistant to HIV. The surgery is dangerous and not guaranteed to work. And it's expensive."

That didn't mean that doctor's couldn't study the bone chemistry and figure out a way to replicate it, but Roger wasn't really thinking about that. Not to mention it would obviously take time, probably more time than he had left even with the advancements in medicines. But then Mark was asking about what happened back home and that gave Roger a moment pause.

"Not sure. I mean, it would be hard not to notice Maureen missing..."

Because seriously, Maureen not being around would definitely be noticeable. She was loud and obnoxious.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-08 02:05 am UTC (link)
Expensive could be a problem, though a childish, optimistic part of Mark still believed both of them had their big breaks coming to them. Dangerous, well... If it came to it, if he grew as desperate as Angel had been towards the end, then who cared? It was better than just up and dying and letting your body give up. It was something to consider.

"Fine," he conceded. Out loud, at least. In his head, he was determined. "But still, you said treatments had improved. You could have added years to your life by being here!" His fingers itched to record the conversation, to get Roger's feelings about the whole thing on film. It was only their recent (for him) argument and the all too familiar annoyed look on Roger's face when the camera got turned on him that kept the well-loved camera on the table instead of rolling.

As often as Mark defended Maureen, Roger was absolutely right. She was way too dramatic and over the top to not notice she was missing. "And it doesn't occur to you to ask these things? I swear, Roger, sometimes I think you'd be just as happy in a hole with your guitar."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-09 05:15 pm UTC (link)
At least Mark conceded. As much as Roger loved his best friend, he really didn't want to get into deep discussions about the fact he could be saved and that he would be perfectly fine. That he just had to find a way to get the cure. Because seriously? It didn't work that way. Even if he got cured here, what was to say if he got sent back home he'd be cured? He would still have a death sentence.

"So long as I stay here, I guess." Shrugging, Roger moved over and got his tea, sipping it. Of course he was then being admonished for not thinking to ask questions that would just give him a headache and Roger rolled his eyes.

"Well, a hole would be pretty uncomfortable, but I suppose if I have my guitar it would be all right..." Looking as if he were actually considering going to find a hole for him and his guitar, Roger shook his head some, "It seemed like it would give me a headache to try and get answers about what happens back home, so I didn't bother. But I'm sure someone here knows. Maybe Freddie. He had been here before I got here, was gone when I got here and then showed up again."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-10 02:46 am UTC (link)
Mark was growing eager. Okay, fine. It was weird, more than weird, being years in the future with new technology and culture and not to mention the whole being a character in some writer's Broadway musical. That was just plain bananas.

But they were involved in something major. Something so much more than he'd ever thought possible back in New York. He was aching to get filming and probably would have if he were settled in. What he really wanted to do was start looking around at how far technology had brought film and cameras. And editing! The stories he could get from the people here would make the most remarkable tale anyone had ever seen.

It was way too soon, though, and he knew it. He didn't even have a room of his own, for one thing. So he leaned back, trying to look casual rather than eager. After all, who was eager about the end of the world? "People getting sent back? Does that happen often? I mean, why would you get sent back and then brought back here again? Who's doing the sending, anyway? Their side? Our side? We are on the good side, right?"

He was curious. Poor Roger. Mark had a barrage of questions behind those but at some point, even he had to stop and breathe.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-10 03:19 am UTC (link)
And there it was. The mass amounts of questions that Roger really didn't have the answer to. True, part of it was because of Roger's perchance for locking himself up in his apartment and working on music but still! Freddie was good at getting him out. He enjoyed Ruby's company when she was available and then there was the tether incident. He went out and played his guitar, made some money. But that didn't mean Roger was exactly going about finding all the answers.

"Yes. People get sent back and sometimes brought back. Seems for no reason, really, no one can figure it out. At least that's what I get from what I read on the boards. As for who does it? I don't know. I guess we're on the good side. I mean, it's the seals of hell that brought us here and we're all fighting it, so yeah, good side. But the seal is what sends people here and back home. It's what brings about the crazy shit we see here."

Oh, Mark had no idea what was going on. What he was up against. And Roger didn't know if he had the ability to explain it. Perhaps he should take him back to the computer and show him the link Maureen of all people had given him. But it wasn't like that was any more helpful. At least in Roger's opinion. It just wasn't something you could explain in words, it had to b experienced.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-11 02:38 am UTC (link)
Mark was used to Roger simply losing himself in his music. It was how he coped and most of the time, he was content to let the younger man do so. He just wanted him to heal. Not physically, obviously. Other than taking the medication that attempted to keep the disease at bay, there wasn't much else they could do about that. But mentally. Emotionally. Mark was desperate for him to heal the parts that had died when April had taken the coward's way out. For a damn long time, Mark was afraid Roger might consider doing the same, and he didn't know if he could handle that.

But this wasn't New York and they weren't doing odd jobs and playing random gigs to try and make a few bucks for a meal. They were, apparently, a part of the end of the world. For better or for worse. Didn't he think that required some answers? Investigative work, now that's where Mark needed to be. Nothing like Buzzline, of course. Something more serious, more sincere.

"So it's just an object? A literal one or a figurative one?" Before he knew it, he was on his feet and pacing. "Is everyone in this city brought in by that thing? How many people are involved?" What he really wanted was a scarf, one of the longer ones so he could fiddle with the ends like he usually did when he was anxious. Stupid seal couldn't even take him from a place where he was in more comfortable clothes? "And... Hey, wait. What do we do here? I mean, does everyone live here? Just get brought here with absolutely nothing? Doesn't really seem fair, does it."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-11 03:00 am UTC (link)
As Mark paced, Roger leaned back on the couch and watched the blond man do just that. Really, it wasn't that uncommon. Mark liked to pace when he thought. Pace and fidget, but apparently he didn't have his scarf with him for once. Which was shocking as Mark was almost never without it. It was as much a part of him as his camera was. But it made sense. This was a lot to take in, of course Mark would be anxious.

"I have no idea. I mean, it's not like we come through something physical, we just... appear. There are people from this place, who were born here. Such as how in this place, we're characters in that musical. There are other people here who are fictional. I've seen Han and Leia on the boards. Freddie is apparently fictional. Some of the kids here. The Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda are here. Though they get very annoyed if you mention The Wizard of Oz... Superman, Black Cat... There are countless people who shouldn't be here."

And then the next round of questions. Really, Roger probably should have sought out more information, but with the bugs and shit? It wasn't something he really thought about.

"Uh. We get brought here with whatever we had on us. I was driving when I was brought here, so I have my car. There are care packages for new arrivals. But no, some of the people here don't live in the complex. There's another one that not many live at, and then people in the city. Some have jobs with fake IDs. Others teach courses in self defense and the like here so we aren't all helpless."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-11 10:23 pm UTC (link)
"Superman!" Mark stopped on a dime, and grinned brightly. Okay, fine. At heart, he was still all of about ten. No child raised in the seventies and eighties couldn't be impressed by superheroes. If he was told He-Man was there, he'd have done a little happy dance, whether Roger mocked him mercilessly or not. And Han and Leia? Mark was a closet sci-fi nerd. His longing to make films stemmed from the first time he'd seen Return of the Jedi and his beloved scarf was an idea kidnapped from Tom Baker. This was unreal. "And Star Wars, too? Any Star Trek? I swear, if I run into Captain Kirke..."

Right. Wait, no. Serious time. Hell. Literal hell, being unleashed, etcetera and so on. Not to mention getting by. "Care packages are good. Hopefully with clothes." He nodded down to the one suit he'd owned, which was now, apparently, the only thing at all he owned. Nope, not weird at all. He was just glad that, funeral or not, he'd refused to wear dress shoes. Mostly because his only pair was still at his Mom and Dad's house and there was no way he was going there and explaining anything that had happened in the last year or five.

And he did know that they arrived with what they had. He nodded to the camera on the table, probably outdated and pathetic in comparison to what they had in 2011. He'd definitely have to get work somewhere and save up for a new one. A coffee shop or deli or something so he could pick up stories from the customers, maybe.

Right. Distracted again. "So is everyone here fictional, then? I mean, there can't possibly be a whole city in the US with characters from movies and musicals and the like just wandering around and no one knows about it!" Because that wouldn't be any weirder than being a fictional character in the first place? Hardly.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-12 01:34 am UTC (link)
"Uh, I haven't seen any Star Trek characters..." Honestly, sometimes Roger wondered just how Mark survived without him. He was a child at times. Not like Roger was much better with his temper, but still! Mark just screamed out innocent and hurt me. It wasn't something Roger was thrilled about, especially here. New York was bad enough, but in a place where there were demons and the like? But Mark would be Mark and there was nothing Roger could do to change that. Now hopefully he wouldn't come across Maureen and figure, since Joanne wasn't here, he had another chance. Because really? That was the last thing the filmmaker needed.

Finishing his tea, Roger had been about to go clean the cup when he heard the next question.

"I'm not sure how it works. There are those of us who are recognized as people from works of fiction... and then there are people who show up but aren't recognized. I know Freddie punched the director of one of the kid's directors and the director thought he was someone named Adam Pascal, who seems to be a broadway actor who 'originated' me and portrayed Freddie."

As they talked, Roger had to wonder how many times he was going to repeat that he didn't exactly know. It was humbling, sure. But really? None of it made sense even after being here a while. And while Roger had plenty of street smarts, he had to if he had survived running away from home at sixteen, none of them prepared him for this.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-12 03:08 am UTC (link)
No, Mark wasn't nearly as street savvy as Roger was. For the most part, his upbringing had been downright sheltered in comparison. His idea of a fight used to be an argument over a girl for the next cousin's bar mitzvah. He'd had a rude awakening on moving into the city. But he was getting there. And somehow he had the feeling that fighting off whatever this place was about to throw at him would be a lot different than fighting off back alley bullies.

Well. Maybe not entirely. Seeing as there were bullies here, too.

"It makes sense," he admitted, considering what Roger had just said. His tea had probably gone cold during one of his rants or his barrage of questions or maybe his pacing attack. Dropping down on to the couch with a flourish, he took a sip anyway and thought out loud. "I mean, if you saw Han Solo running around, you'd probably go, 'Hey, it's Harrison Ford', right? So...someone out there looked at you and thought of the person who 'played' Roger in the show." This was insane. He was talking about having someone else's face, or rather, someone's face being his, like it was absolutely nothing. "I wonder if that means somewhere there's a guy who 'played' Mark once. Well, I guess they would have had to, wouldn't they?" He nodded at the computer, one Collins would have killed to get his hands on.

He settled back on the couch, growing quiet for the first time in a while. Considering all that he'd learned, he had to take some time eventually to let it all sink in. But the issue was, he was itching to keep moving, to get started, to explore the city he'd found himself in.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-12 03:24 am UTC (link)
"Why famous people would come to Lawrence, Kansas is beyond me, but yeah, that would be my reaction. It happens a lot to the people that are actually fictional here."

As Mark motioned to the computer, Roger quirked a brow.

"Are you asking me to look you up?" Rolling his eyes in amusement, the musician got up and put Mark Cohen RENT actors into the search engine. It seemed to be the fastest way to figure out which actor had Mark's face. It took some searching, but eventually Roger was successful.

"There are many guys who have played you, but the one with your face is named Neil Patrick Harris......" Shaking his head some, Roger looked at Mark then the computer, "This is just fucking weird."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-12 12:46 pm UTC (link)
"Maybe they think they're filming here or something. Not all movies are made in New York or Los Angeles, after all." Mark yawned and stretched and was about to suggest he should see about getting a room of his own here, since Roger had obviously wanted away from him as of the last time the pair had spoken.

And he would have, if Roger hadn't misinterpreted Mark's signal. "No!" he yelped, leaning forward as if the subtle movement would stop Roger once he was determined to do something. "I just meant that we saw it and there was someone there and..."

But it was too late. Roger was searching the computer and Mark groaned out loud when he was informed that multiple people had been used to portray his life. That...would take serious getting used to. "Neil Patrick Harris..." he mused out loud. And then burst out laughing. "The guy who played Doogie Howser?? I knew we looked alike but..." Now that was beyond weird. Why had he never considered that? Because it was impossible, that was why.

Leaning his head in his hands, Mark shook his head. "Fucking weird doesn't begin to describe it." Fucking weird was when you met your slut ex-girlfriend's new lesbian lover. This was just plain out there.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-14 01:29 am UTC (link)
Of course Roger would look up who Mark was. After all, it was only fair. Or something like that. Mostly, it was boredom and maybe even a subconscious urge to keep Mark there, where he could keep an eye on the film maker. Besides, it wasn't as if they weren't roommates. Okay, so he had drifted between the loft and Mimi's.. and then got all angry with life and ran to Santa Fe. But in the end? Roommates. So far, Mark was one of three who hadn't betrayed him, but one had died and Collins wasn't there.

"Haha, oh man. That's fucking great. Should I call you Doogie now?"

Laughing as he leaned back, the musician just shook his head in amusement. Oh, he knew about Cindy's love for all things Doogie Howser. Which really was awkward, like, up there with Mark's documentary awkward.

"If you want, I can make up the couch for you?"

It was his own way of inviting Mark to stay with him. After all, Roger didn't out right offer things. Not with Mark. They just had an understanding. Sure, he was a jerk and could get verbally abrasive when he was pissed and Mark took it, but they still worked as best friends and roommates.

Besides, he needed to keep an eye on Mark to make sure he survived.

"Shit. We need to get you an amulet. Or you can get a tattoo of the symbol that will protect you from demon possession."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-18 12:29 pm UTC (link)
Mark would never begrudge Roger the time he spent with Mimi, but he couldn't deny, it was nice to have his friend back. Santa Fe may be the nicest city in the world, but he would have been alone there. No, Mark wouldn't have been alone, but it wouldn't be the same.

So when Roger offered a spot on his couch, well... "Yeah. Yeah, okay, that'd be cool. You know, till I get my feet under me." Okay, maybe he wanted his own space eventually but for now, at least? Well, it might be nice. Give them a chance to catch up. Give Mark some time to get to know the town, figure out survival.

Ugh. Survival. Demon possession? "You know I can't get a tattoo," Mark protested, as if that were the biggest issue at hand. Getting a tattoo meant he couldn't be buried in a Jewish cemetery, after all. And yet, he was beginning to wonder if it would even matter. Apocalypse and all. "What sort of amulet are we talking about? Real demons? What do they do? I mean, if they possess you, what happens?" Not that he wanted to be finding out with any sort of firsthand experience. While parts of this crazy town were amusing, that was definitely a part he didn't want to take a part in.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-19 02:07 am UTC (link)
Honestly, Roger wasn't surprised when Mark accepted his offer. Sure, it would be nice to have his own place, but really? Roger probably did need Mark around to monitor him. He was pretty good about the AZT but there were days when he forgot. Which really wasn't smart. But he was trying, so that had to count for something. Regular doctor visits and the like. But when he got too caught up with his music, medicine mostly feel to the wayside. It wasn't intentional, it was just... Roger. So having Mark around to remind him would be good, even if it were only temporary.

Ah yes, the tattoo.

"Right. Jewish customs or something." Roger never really paid much attention to religion, but he recalled his attempt to get Mark drunk to get a tattoo and the blond man freaking out about how it went against Jewish culture and burial or some shit like that. Whatever, Mark adhered to his Judaism, so Roger would try to respect that. You know, when he wasn't mocking him about his little... documentary about certain issues he had on high holy days.

"Thankfully I've never been possessed so I don't really know what happens. But from my understanding they make you do things you wouldn't do, hurt people. The amulet," Pulling his own off, Roger showed it to Mark, "keeps them away apparently. I forget if it's demons that have the white or black eyes, or those possessed.... But yeah. Say 'christo' at a demon and that bugs them."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-19 03:06 am UTC (link)
It was just plain weird to hear Roger talk about all of that. Things that they would have laughed at in the past. It wasn't all that long ago that they would have called anyone babbling about demons and shit crazy. And for the boho boys to call anyone crazy, they were pretty off the deep end. But this? Here? Roger was actually talking as if his life could be altered by demons. And that would take a while to get used to.

Mark leaned in, examining the amulet and again wishing he could get all of this recorded. Amulets, possessions... He really wished he'd paid more attention in the one Religion class he'd decided to take in college. Or at least had rented The Exorcist more than once. "I can't even begin to get it," he admitted, a wry smile on his face. "But at least it looks pretty bad ass?"

He leaned back again, shaking his head. "Who'd have thought? I mean...what the hell would anyone want with us as the world comes to an end? I don't know jack shit about possessions. Or about demons in general. I know I didn't sleep for a month after I saw Poltergeist and that the chick in that Roman Polanski movie was hot as hell, but that doesn't mean I can fend off any of the above." To be honest, amulet aside, he didn't really think Roger could, either. Or Maureen, for that matter. So what the hell were they all doing there?

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-19 03:40 am UTC (link)
"Yeah, it's bad ass, it has that going for it." But Roger knew what Mark meant. Why the hell were they involved in this battle? Sure, Roger could hold his own in a fight, but a supernatural fight? That was something else entirely. Something Roger still didn't know how to handle even with the classes the complex offered. Speaking of which...

"Well, the complex has classes to help us fight and know what to do when the crazy shit happens. Not like it always helps given the Seal is temperamental as fuck and you never know what's going to come out of it. But it helps."

Leaning back, Roger smirked at Mark.

"Might not need me to kick ass for you." It was an attempt to lighten the mood. All this talk of demons and shit was depressing as hell. They had enough angst in their lives. And if you couldn't laugh at the end of the world? Well, why fight? Yes. This was Roger. Mr. Negative because he was HIV Positive. But Angel had taught him to enjoy each moment, to laugh. Oh sure, Mimi helped, but with all her baggage and detoxing, it was really Angel. Angel was always happy, even when she'd been dying. Holding onto her precious moments..... Roger hoped one day he could have that. For now, he would just try to find a way to laugh with Mark despite all the bullshit they were facing.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-19 05:24 pm UTC (link)
Angel had taught them all so much about how to live life. Even he, without the sentence of HIV hanging over his head, had learned more about how to live each and every moment of his life than he had in the twenty-seven years before he'd met him. He was just grateful to see Roger smiling, even if it was his mocking-Mark smirk. If the king of all negative thoughts and emotions could smile during the end of the world, they might just be okay.

"Gosh, self-defense, why didn't I ever think of that," he said sarcastically, but he was laughing under his breath. "Seriously, though. Without sounding too sentimental and whiny, I'm glad you're here. And not just because you probably saved me from two broken legs back there." Because compared to what they were apparently facing, broken legs were nothing. Losing control of your body would suck, but having no control over your own mind? Pass.

"Seriously, man. It's good to have you back."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-21 12:25 am UTC (link)
"Fuck if I know." Smirk still in place, Roger leaned up and grabbed his tea, finishing it before placing it on the table again. But then Mark was talking about trying not to sound too sentimental and whiny and Roger quirked a brow. These conversations rarely went well, if only because Roger was far from open with his emotions. Even before the HIV, he'd been too 'tough' and prideful to ever really talk about what he was feeling. He had gotten better during Life Support meetings, but even there he mostly stayed quiet.

Still. It would probably be rude to not reply, and as he had left Mark in a huff of anger from where he was from, it would probably be good to say something. He had called like he said he would, but Mark didn't know that.

"Yeah. I'm glad you're here, too. Makes it more.. normal, I guess."

And that was about as much as Mark was going to get out of the musician. But, it was still something, so that had to count!

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-21 12:53 am UTC (link)
It did count. More than Roger could know. Because while he had said a lot of things that had hurt, he'd been right about a lot, too. And Mark was ready to try and make it up to him. Even if it did end up being at the end of the world.

Stupid apocalypse.

But he knew when the time for being emotional was over. He leaned back with a smirk, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Hey, look at it this way. Without me, it's you and Maureen."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-21 01:03 am UTC (link)
Roger knew that what he had said had hurt. Because he was sometimes brutally honest and would say the things no one wanted to hear because of just that, it would hurt. He never had been one to mince words, and when he was angry? Well, all non existent filters were off. And the madder he was, the harsher his words were. So, he probably had to make up for his own words as well. But they would deal with that. First step was letting Mark stay with him as they always had done in the past.

But thankfully the emotional time was over as Roger didn't know how much more he could handle before he started to get annoyed. It was a treacherous slope. But the smirk caused Roger to quirk a brow before Mark spoke. Which caused the younger man to groan.

"Don't remind me. She was hitting on a high school kid, no doubt planning to fuck her." Shaking his head in disgust, Roger rolled his eyes. "What's really weird is that this woman, Elphaba? Looks just like her, only green. Fucking hilarious."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-21 01:29 am UTC (link)
Mark's nose wrinkled. Underage lesbian sex was still underage sex, wasn't it? Wasn't that illegal? Not that Maureen was exactly queen of following the law and all, but still. Despite everything, he did still consider Maureen a friend, though, so he simply shrugged. "You know her. Anything that's hot enough is fair game." Well. And then him. Because there was no way Mark Cohen considered himself 'hot', especially not for someone as dynamic as Maureen.

Green, though... Now that was funny. "Wait. Maureen has a twin person, too? And she's green? Like, Kermit the Frog green?" He tried to hide it. Honestly, he did. And he was doing really well. But it didn't last. Mark burst out laughing. "Bet that took the ego down a notch. Wish I could've been there to see her see that one!"

Though then he considered the fact that he'd been sleeping with someone who looked like someone green. And really, that just made his nose wrinkle all over again.

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-21 01:38 am UTC (link)
"It's still fucked up. I don't care if it's Maureen's way or whatever. Some things are just, no." For someone who lived on the edge, Roger was pretty set in his beliefs. You don't hit or beat up people unless they're being abusive and threatening, and you don't sleep with minors. It was fucked up and an abuse of power. Yes, he was seven years older than Mimi, but she had still been of age.

But then Mark was laughing about Elphaba and Roger snickered.

"She was far from amused. Her name's Elphaba. More commonly known as The Wicked Witch of the West. Only, not? I'm not sure. I haven't gotten around to figuring that one out. But whatever. Chance is, she looks like someone who is green and she was so not happy about that."

Which in Roger's book made Elphaba perfectly legit in his book. Anyone who annoyed Maureen, really. Unless it was Benny. That was the one person they could agree to hate on. Because Benny was a jerk.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-21 02:14 am UTC (link)
Oh of course Roger hadn't gotten around to figuring it out. Because he didn't ask questions! How did the man survive? And Mark was the one needing care taking? Whatever. The world would likely come to an end around him and as long as he had his guitar in hand, Roger would be just fine with that.

"Well, then. Glad to know we're not the only works of fiction walking around." Which he already knew because, hello, Superman! But still. Every additional one helped. Even if it was the Wicked Witch. Um. Awkward, much?

Benny was far more than a jerk in Mark's eyes. But they hadn't been evicted yet, still, so who was he to argue? Maureen on the other hand... She was a tough one. Yeah, he'd been hurt by her. But he couldn't seem to stop caring. So he just shrugged again, turning his head. "So long as she threw a giant hissy fit, I'm okay with this. Though," he added with a chuckle, "she probably saw it more as an opportunity to create color with her body or something completely off the wall."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-21 02:24 am UTC (link)
Roger and his guitar would survive anything. Except the disease. He would never escape it, no matter what medical advancements were made. Oh, he read anything he could find about it. Hoping to cheat death, but while his life could be prolonged? It would still be dictated by medication and beepers. About knowing that his body would age faster than the average person. Living in the body of an eighty year old when he was fifty. Assuming he got that far.

But this wasn't the time to brood about such things. Right now it was making fun of Maureen even as Mark just accepted it. Oh, he so needed watching after, no matter what the film maker said. He'd get himself in trouble, used by some bitch who didn't care. It was bothersome. Mark was such a push over. It would be a miracle if he didn't get fucked over because of that here. But Roger would keep an eye on him. Kick demon ass and shit.

"Oh, she did. It was great." And then the comment about creating color with her body. "Oh god, she probably did. Because she's crazy."

Roger had tolerated Maureen when he first met her. But soon it had turned to extreme dislike and then disgust and he didn't bother to hide it. It was Roger, he only hid his personal emotions. Not what he thought about others. Unless it was emotional. Then he hid that as well.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-21 03:23 am UTC (link)
Mark accepted Maureen's pushing because he was over her. Honest. Okay, it had taken some time and her obvious devotion to Joanne, but he'd moved on. And he'd thought Maureen was starting to grow up a little, maybe, and actually stay somewhat faithful to a human being for more than a few days. But if she was going around banging teenagers, maybe not. The good news was, it wasn't his problem anymore. And, apparently, Joanne wasn't around so he didn't have that to worry about either. Just Maureen being taken into custody for assaulting a minor. Great.

"Crazy, maybe, but you have to admit, she's got some talent. When she's not trying to overdo it." The truth was, Maureen could be a great actress, if she weren't so damn busy trying to beat the authority figures and stick it to 'the man'. Maybe there was something to selling out. Even if he had been considering cutting ties with Buzzline lately.

He hesitated, but then offered a smile. An honest one, even if it was a little bit shaky. "I promise, nothing. Honest. Nothing with her. At all. I don't care who she's with or what she's doing because it's nothing to me. Kay?"

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-21 03:31 am UTC (link)
"If you say so. All I've seen is her over doing everything to get a reaction." It was annoying as fuck, really. Mostly because creating was Roger's life and to see someone do it so over the top that it was a mockery was just upsetting. But it was Maureen. He really couldn't imagine her doing anything genuine. But hey, this place could change her. And well, he knew she had some decency. In all of her mocking of him, she never brought up April or the drugs or the HIV. So, somewhere, there was decency. Albeit very small.

Speaking of the HIV, Roger's reminder went off and he got up to take his medicine before sitting down again, arms on his legs and hands clasped as he gave a nod.

"Good. You deserve better than her. Always have." And again with the rare moment of sentimentality. But it wasn't overt. It was just... Roger pointing something out, or that was his excuse.

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-21 10:20 pm UTC (link)
Mark tensed when the familiar beeping sent Roger off to get his medication. It was just habit. Because frankly, Mark didn't like the reminder of his friend's condition anymore than Roger did. But at least Roger actually took the meds and Mark breathed again a brief second later. There'd been times when Roger would forget, or simply blow it off, and it had scared Mark shitless. But if he tried that now? Mark would likely come undone. He'd already lost Angel, he wasn't ready to lose anyone else to that damned disease. Not yet. He knew one day he'd have to. Roger, or Collins, or Mimi if she got her act together to the point where Mark would get to call her a friend again. One day, sooner or later, he was going to lose them. But not now, dammit.

And not, he decided firmly, in 2011. If they were going to make all those medical advancements, and he got to skip the years where they didn't, Roger was damn well going to live.

He didn't relax fully again until Roger was seated and looking comfortable. He didn't acknowledge what had just passed other than a slight, approving nod. Roger had been taking care of himself for a while; he didn't need Mark playing nursemaid around every corner. Instead, he went back to the topic at hand. "I don't know about that," he replied with a shrug. "I'm pretty much destined to find the ones who are bad for me. My date for the junior prom left in the middle of the dance with some other guy just because he had a nicer car." Mark gave an affirmative nod, then broke into a grin. "The curse of being the nice guy, you know."

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[info]glorifiedsong
2011-06-23 01:23 am UTC (link)
Roger had slowly been getting better about taking his medication. There were days here when he didn't care. But for the most part, he was doing better about it. He had his issues of course. His fears. Everything he couldn't say and even though he tried to put it into song, he still couldn't get out. It was as if he was too afraid to admit to being afraid. Which was fucked up, but it was Roger. He had been taught from an early age not to show any weakness. And fear? It was a weakness. Yes, he had gone to Life Support but he had never opened up to the extent of others.

Ah yes, the topic at hand. Mark deserving better people in his life. Oh, Roger knew he wasn't that great a person. He had serious anger issues, but he was better than cheating whores like Maureen who just used the film maker. It was sickening, and Roger really wanted Mark to try and find someone better. But to say that? Well, it would be strange so he'd just make comments and shit.

"Just because you have crappy luck doesn't make it true, Mark." And it didn't. Mark would say the same thing to Roger if the situation was reversed and the musician knew it. But no matter, as he was grinning about his 'curse'.

"Whatever man. They say the meek will fucking inherit the Earth. And then what? Besides even nice guys can find people who aren't complete fickle bitches."

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[info]mydocumentary
2011-06-23 02:38 am UTC (link)
"The meek inherit the Earth, I film our takeover, and you become my new slave. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you since we're friends and all. Just remember to add fabric softener to my laundry and to buy the expensive cheese and you'll do just fine!" It felt good. No. It felt fantastic to be able to laugh with Roger again. Sure, someday they'd probably have to revisit all the things they'd yelled at each other before Roger had taken off. And that was probably going to suck since neither of them was exactly good at the feelings thing. Unless they were yelling, of course.

But until then? He had a best friend again. The old Roger, the one who had been fun-loving and excited about life? Not entirely, but closer to it than he had been in a very long time. Besides, there were more important things to worry about here. Like not dying. Or getting possessed. That was...definitely awkward.

"Look at it this way," he reassured, "we may be all about to die in the apocalypse anyway. Finding a girl, no matter how worthy, should be fairly low on my list of things to do, I'd think."

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