falling-in-reverse

     Not many people wander out in the woods in the evening. That’s just... common sense. You never know what you’ll find out here. A bear? Maybe. Aliens? Probable. Humans with harmful intents? Who knows?

     Sebastian’s never experienced any of these things. (Even though he would like to see something like aliens, or Bigfoot, or the Mothman...) That’s why he’s comfortable staying out here at all, a cigarette between his lips as he puffs on, twigs snapping under his feet. This is his way of evening out the effects of cigarettes on his health: he walks.

     Exercise while he actively sabotages himself. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s better than nothing. Besides, he paces doing just about anything. Like when you talk on the phone, and you keep wandering around as if your brain is trying to find the person you’re talking to.

     He’s just... not talking to his cigarette. It’s too quiet for that, he doesn’t want to ruin the lovely silence. It’s eerie and perfect, and he’s absolutely alone. Probably. And, as of now, he’s heading back home before the mountain swallows him up and he gets absolutely lost.

     He hears a snap, and turns. A shape moves.

     “WOAH HOLY SH--” Sebastian steps back, stumbling a little. His cigarette falls from his lips. Listen, even if he would like to see a cryptid, he’s not completely brave... He’s not in any shape to fight off Mothman in the twilight, and he reaches for his phone, swiping the flashlight on and lifting it... “What in the hell...???”

do you like change?

     The question of the hour, it seems.

how’s your luck?

     What an odd question. Especially for someone who... isn’t always that positive, and may take things differently than how they were intended. Sebastian’s mouth curls into a smile, something that’s not really kind, nor really cruel. His shoulders lift in a shrug.

your trademark feature that people recognize you by?

     “Well, that’s a good question for a guy who doesn’t look in the mirror.” Or maybe, for a guy that stares into the mirror too long, and has started to forget what he sees there. Like when you repeat a word so much that you end up failing to recognize the word at all. Sebastian sighs out his nose and purses his lips.

     Part of this whole traveling thing Sebastian’s trying to do has had to involve social interaction, no matter how incensed he may be at the prospect. But it’s not all... terrible. Though he hasn’t found a place he’d rather live than his original destination back across the bridge, he is wondering if all of this has made him more cultured, in a way.

     Or something like that. He’s no anthropologist.

     Most learning starts with questions, and though he’s pretty sure he isn’t completely recharged for a full conversation, he’s been hearing this same woman talk to herself the entire time he’s hung around this particular area of the town. It’s a quaint place-- feels a little bit like home, but not the home he wants to recognize, if that makes sense.

     It’s just-- this person’s been talking about or to plants, and he doesn’t want to be a total creep and just sit here staring at her, trying to listen to what she’s saying. He’s not that big of an ass, okay?

     Besides, he likes plants. Somewhat. For no particular reason.

     “So... what all do you got goin’ on there?” Really? That’s the best you can do? Apparently so.

P A S S E D

something you’ve been anticipating for a long time?

     This one is easy. Sebastian’s present is often made up of foggy memories that he can barely recall, but he has enough foresight to know what he wants to do with his life, it’s just a matter of deciding how he’s going to do it.

     But, as said, this answer is easy:

list 3 of your talents

     “Three?” That just sounds cruel, to make him sit here and think of three whole things to say that he’s not garbage at. Not that he’s garbage at everything-- his self-depreciating pride needs for there to be some things for him to feel good about. Maybe if he lists those...

do you pay more attention to your heart or your mind?

      Dark brows furrow as he thinks. Then, well, he realizes the semi-irony in such a situation.

     Even though it’s dark, Sebastian can tell this place is probably one of the more colorful towns he’ll end up visiting on his trips. He’s seen plenty, even in the short amount of time he’s been heading out into the world to... who knows? Experience life? Have a quarter-life crisis?

     Maybe both. The place is colorful, alright? That’s all.

     And Sebastian is tired. There’s a certain thrill to riding his bike late at night, but once you get tired, you should get off as soon as possible, unless you want to fall right over on the bridge you’re crossing, or whatever. Sebastian, however thrill-seeking, doesn’t want to end up doing something stupid like that. If he’s going to endanger himself on his bike, it’ll be because he’s actively doing something reckless, not putting himself through sleep deprivation.

     However sleep-deprived, he’s not quick to find himself somewhere to sleep. No, his mind works too fast for that, especially after riding through the night. He’s not even sure what time it is, just that it’s dark and he’s alright with entering the first place he sees.

     Right. Food. Food? No, he’ll order something to drink. He settles himself up on a stool (because tables are just rude to the poor people who have to wait them at this time of night) and rests his arms on the bar. “Is it possible I could get somethin’ like a Shirley Temple?”

     Every place has some sort of version of that, right? He doesn’t feel like anything... heavy, tonight.

     Living in Pelican Town isn’t the most glamorous of existences.

     Sebastian’s gotten used to having to go out into the world to meet anyone even remotely new. He’s heard something about the house out in the boonies being renovated, but that’s about as much news as he can find when it comes to finding new souls to avoid.

      Because that’s what he does. He finds souls, then avoids them and completely ignores the reason he went out looking for them in the first place. He seeks something new, something to prove to himself that he’s not absolutely trapped in a big natural bubble, then he can go home and back into his shell and... be fine.

     Which is all a long way of saying: when Sebastian finds the guy sleeping on a bench of all things in town, his curiosity is hooked in. Who does that, here? Everyone’s so damn welcoming and homey, it shouldn’t be that hard to find someone to give him a place to stay, if he needs it.

     But why is he here? He doesn’t look the type to be showing up here. Like... some sort of RPG prince with a sidequest instead of a tourist. It’s mostly the hair, which Sebastian’s rightly infatuated by.

     And then he shakes himself out of it to shake the man out of his slumber. “Hey,” he says, and he has to focus to make sure his voice doesn’t sound like a total trashy and judgemental punk, “you... alright? Need a place to sleep?” Not that I’m offering, but there’s probably a nice couch in... the saloon...?

P A S S E D

test

test test test test

test

test

test