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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]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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