Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxSome Drunkard)

sevenpercentsolution

sevenpercentsolution

Supernova
Joined
Jan 11, 2009
Sometimes he wasn't sure anyone could see him; there were days where Billy would walk down the street and watch people going on with their lives, he would see them pushing their strollers, or holding hands with their loved ones, or even just window shopping, and they would pass by and he could see them, hear them, smell them - but none of them ever seemed to look at him.

It was as though their eyes passed right over him, right through him, like they would see the brick wall behind him but never actually see him - like he had somehow slipped through the grates, dissappeared. Like Merlin in the woods, he was doomed to stay in one place, watch the world continue around him but never be given the ability to join them - a big, invisible wall that kept them away from him.

Or maybe it kept him from them.

Maybe that was it. Maybe the big, metaphorical wall kept everyone else safe.

After all, he was the Villain.

Billy peered at his reflection in a store window and a skinny blonde with big, sorrowful blue eyes stared back at him - he wasn't sure why he kept expecting something different, but it somehow didn't seem right. He had sort of thought that once he had been accepted into the Evil League of Evil that things would change, that he might seem somehow - eviller.

The press certainly thought he was - and everyone in the city was frightened of him, feared the very name of Dr. Horrible after his most recent crime spree, even if the one thing they would always remember him for was the defeat of Captain Hammer - but it just didn't look right.

Billy tried scowling, appraising the result; he tried jutting his jaw a bit too, and knitting his brows for a more sinister look, but ultimately he just looked vaguely constipated - not a great expression for commanding respect. He decided he should probably just grow a goatee, even though that particular endeavor was likely to take longer than making a new ray gun.

Though, he was getting pretty good at making those; as far as he was concerned, nearly everything could be turned into a ray gun. They were useful - and distinctly evil.

Just - he hadn't been able to make a ray gun to do his laundry.

Yet.

So until he worked out the kinks that had the Washing Gun - he was working on the name - shredding his pants every time he tried to trigger a spin cycle, he would have to stick to the coin laundromat.

For the first month, Billy had resisted going back; it used to be that he had trouble going inside because he knew Penny would be there with her red hair and her coconut-scented shampoo and that funny way she scrunched up her nose when she was folding shirts - but now he had trouble going in because he knew she wouldn't be there ever again.

There was even a day he had absent-mindedly bought a second frozen yogurt to bring with him, only to realize after the fact that he had no one to give it to - so he had pretended he was going to use it for an experiment, and when he couldn't figure one out, he just stuck it to the face of a park statue and laughed maniacally, telling himself it was his evil deed for the day.

Penny wouldn't have approved though, so he ended up coming back later and cleaning it up.

But it turned out being in the Evil League of Evil didn't prevent him from having to do laundry, so he'd decided to just stop going on Wednesdays and Saturdays and instead went on Tuesdays and Sundays. At least if he went on different days, he could act like he was avoiding Penny out of abject social terror rather than having to acknowledge that he was running from a ghost.

Turns out that didn't work either, though. Every time he stepped into the laundromat, he found himself peering longingly at the second last machine in the third last row, wishing he would see the sway of red hair, or the gleam of the little gold chain she sometimes wore.

But now those little details only existed as memories and Billy felt as though he was the only one remembering them and it seemed so - wrong. Penny had done more for the city than Hammer ever had, yet the only mourning was for Captain Hammer and his deflated ego - no one remembered Penny because they were so caught up in their biased news reports and their mindless television shows and their - and their ignorance. They had forgotten what was important, but he would show them, he would - he would remind them.

Somehow.

He was a Villain. A Supervillain. He would figure it out.

Billy was yanked out of his laundromat reverie by the feeling of something wet across his neck; he looked down and realized that in his absent-mindedness, he had managed to squeeze the dollar wash packet of liquid detergent so hard that it had popped and sprayed across his torso and up his throat, leaked out onto his hand and down his wrist, coating his fingers in slippery blue soap that had absorbed into the cuff of his hoodie.

He let out a small noise of irritation and swiped his hand down his chest, succeeding only in smearing the detergent.

"Soapy Supervillain." he murmured under his breath, sidling away from the washing machine in as villainous a way as he could manage it - he was trying to work on his sidling, he wasn't very good at it, Moist sidled better than he did, but partly because he kept slipping on his own sweat - and he huddled himself down against the windowsil.

It was a spot that Billy had taken to, the same place where Penny had told him to keep his head up, words of kindness that had driven him forward - and now he sat in that spot twice a week while his laundry was in the machine, sometimes he would scribble in a notebook, but most days he just sat in silence and stared at the far wall, lost in his thoughts.

On that particular day, he curled up into the spot and made an invested effort to get the detergent off of his hands with kleenex, and the endeavor was not turning out to be a successful one.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Try as he might, he could get used to Los Angeles again. There was something so incredibly cold about the city that tried to separate itself from the rest of the world, from the aloof population that wandered the streets with their ears glued to their cellphones, but he was back, and he was doing his best to acclimate. It had taken him a week after he heard the news to believe that Penny was actually dead.

Bad things happened. Bad things had always happened to the Watson family, but never things that bad.

He would know; he had kept an eye on her since he had left the family (kicked out at fifteen, when Penny was eleven, after their father found him in the car with another boy's hand down his pants - he stayed away when he decided that he wanted to be Hero someday, because he didn't like the thought of putting her in danger. And it was her relations with a Hero that had gotten her killed in the end, hadn't it?)

With a groan Buck finished unpacking his things into his tiny apartment. Wasn't much different than what he had been living off of in that Illinois college town that he had taken up protecting when it came to living arrangements. He had a loft, a comfortable bed, and after two weeks, a still mostly empty refrigerator.

Lots of dirty laundry, though.

So he piled up his clothes and headed to the closest laundromat he'd seen, sliding the green basket atop a table as he began shoving his clothes into it.

This city was in trouble. Since the fall of Captain Hammer, evil had become trendy, vogue. He heard people titter to each other about supervillains, about who had witnessed what heist when and how cool it had been, and he shook his head sadly in reminiscence as he poured a bit of detergent (with color safe bleach alternative, of course) into the washer and thumped the lid shut.

He was here to clean up this city. And to get vengeance, righteous vengeance against the monster who had killed his sister.

(He remembered once when he was ten and she was six, he would make paperclips dance for her on the table in the study when his father was going after their mother, and she'd press a pale hand to her mouth and giggle, or when he was twelve and would make origami from the aluminum foil without touching it, or the pain in her pre-teen voice when he listened to her messages on his answering machine that he never returned.)

Buck shook his head again as if to snap himself out of it.

It wasn't the time for grieving. He needed to get used to the city again, adapt to the place. Make some friends, maybe.

He looked up just in time to see a slightly insane looking blond struggle to clean his hands with - what was that, Kleenex? Oh God, that had to be messy. Casting a glance at the washer to make sure that it was actually going, he approached Billy and retrieved a crumpled blue handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to him.

"Uh, here," he said, "you look like you're having some problems."

His facial structure was remarkably similar to Penny's - the same nose, an identical curve to the chin, eyes and hair that were barely a shade darker, except they were notably more masculine and also very much not dead. "All out of wet naps, sorry."
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

It had been nearly three months since Dr. Horrible had been accepted as a member of the Evil League of Evil and in that period of time he had single-handedly become responsible for the government enacting a new law regarding the transport and protection of Wonderflonium, considering the last four shipments of it had been plucked from their courier vans. Sure, once they had tried to trick him by sending out a decoy truck, but he'd got the case anyways - he was only surprised it had taken them so long to decide on armored trucks and armed security instead of mini-vans and mailmen.

Of course, now he had a full stockpile of Wonderflonium and wouldn't need more any time soon, but at least it meant that when he did need more, it would be an actual challenge - particularly with the consideration that he could actually get shot doing it next time.

There had been a few bank heists, too, done with the nervous but eager assistance of Moist, who he had ultimately ended up selecting as his henchman - it couldn't have been anyone else anyways. Moist had a toothbrush at Billy's place when most people never even noticed him; Moist had practically reserved the spot.

And anyways, he didn't want the League assigning some rookie hack henchman to him - some snot-nosed kid, fumbling with his beakers and making them all - fingerprinty.

Of course, Moist did that - but he didn't really leave prints, just - runny trails.

But for the most part, the robberies had gone off without a hitch; all he had to do was wave around something metal and people assumed it would kill them - the truth was that Dr. Horrible was robbing banks with a wind turbine on his arm. No one had ever tried to stop him; they were too scared, but if they had tried, rather than getting shot they would have just sort of - been blown back a few feet.

Maybe. He hadn't really tested the Wind Ray very thoroughly.

Absorbed in his thoughts again and now dealing with a disturbing mess of laundry detergent and torn kleenex on his hands, Billy hadn't even realized he was being approached - after all, why would anyone be approaching him?

So when the handkerchief was thrust out in front of him, his immediate response was to throw his hands up in front of him to protect his head, a knee-jerk reaction that still hadn't gone away from his days of being pummelled into the ground by Captain Hammer.

Even worse, the motion had been accompanied by an embarrassing, slightly strangled noise of surprised anxiety and it sounded vaguely like:

"Gnargh!"

And when the rain of fists didn't come, he cracked open an eye and peered over his soapy hands; a pair of kind, green eyes looked back at him, and Billy felt his stomach flip suddenly and violently as the apprehension of being hit was replaced by something much more frightening - social anxiety.

Even worse than the beautiful green things staring at him, and the dark lashes that surrounded them was the shock of dark red hair, and it was so painfully, heartbreakingly familiar that Billy found himself slowly raising his head above his fingers.

Years of education, endless hours of memorization and obsession, and a lifetime of knowledge all became useless as Billy found himself suddenly utterly incapable of articulating anything; rather than speaking or even reaching out to accept the proferred handkerchief, all Billy was able to do was let out one small, miserable squeak.

Penny.

If it weren't for the distinct difference of gender, the man in front of him looked exactly like Penny.

Right then, Billy could only sit there gaping at the other man, expression frozen into one of abject terror as his mind tried to sort through the details.

Penny, Dr. Horrible told him, is dead. This is a coincidence.

Of course, that was the reasonable explanation - but Billy couldn't help feeling that he was the only man who could hear the heartbeat under the floorboards.

You look like an idiot. Do something.

After a painfully long and awkward silence and Billy finally managed to move again - but he was running on automatic, reaching out for the handkerchief and gingerly removing it from Buck's hand as though fearing it would burst into flames.

"Uh," he said.

Your mastery of the english language is truly astonishing. Jackass.

"Thanks." he mumbled out, suddenly avoiding Buck's eyes like a kicked dog might do.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck suddenly wasn't sure whether he was charmed or frightened by this guy. He was handsome, sure - something about his face was just tragic, though, and he lifted an eyebrow of his own as Billy took the handkerchief from him.

That's what Penny had stayed to fix, wasn't it? She didn't have any powers, wasn't interested in pursuing a life of righteous crime-fighting or gallant battles. She wanted to work and create petitions and find new, cheap soup recipes for the kitchen down the corner. It was certainly something he respected and something that he understood, in part.

He felt bad for this world, too. Lucky, as the Magnetic Marvel, he was able to do a little more about it than hand a sandwich to a homeless person.

You shouldn't downplay what she did, he had thought a few times before. She worked hard, and she didn't have the .. talents that you do. Just because you lost touch with her.. it's not her fault you weren't there for you when she needed you. Of course, just because he had super powers didn't mean he had mastered them.

Sure, he was able to make cars move, if he concentrated very hard. Had lifted a bus once and flung it through the side of a building once when he'd been particularly angry about a demotion at work (he'd been fired pretty quickly for that one.. damn security cameras), but he had never been a Superhero - just a normal Hero, watching out for his town.

It was going to change here, though, if he could help it. With Hammer gone, LA needed someone new. Someone better - someone who didn't parade around in his Hero clothes.

Buck had been reading up. There had been one case of his ability manifesting into full blown psychokinesis, with the potential for more, but the Hero in question had been levitating himself over a particularly deep canyon when he had sneezed and lost his concentration, and even the ability to move things with his mind hadn't really mattered when he'd fallen a thousand feet and gotten a little over-acquainted with the ground. (A better death than Bird Girl from Cleveland, of course, who had literally chased a pigeon off the roof and forgotten that she had the ability to fly until it was too late.)

Los Angeles was bad news, though. The E.L.E. was centralized here for one - it was no wonder that most heroes were afraid to show their masked faces.

And then you had poor guys like this one, who jumped and started at the slightest surprise, and the look on Buck's face was most certainly pity as Billy took the kerchief, then stammered and looked away.

"Um," he said with a slight, crooked smile, "I'm not going to rob you or anything. You don't have to get freaked out." His voice was as soothing as he could possibly make it, but unlike Penny, he wasn't well-versed in this comforting others thing.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Billy had never been good with people and the exchange in the laundromat was just one example of it; his life had been dotted with moments painfully similar, as nearly every attempt at social contact through the years had inevitably led to him twitching and stuttering. When he thought back to his childhood - which he tried not to - he would often find himself sneering at the cliche of it; he had been the latchkey kid, the one who had experienced loss far too early in his life to know how to cope with it.

From time to time, other children would attempt to make some form of contact with him, but their curiosity had always come in the form of cruelty - comments about his home life, remarks about his too-skinny frame, and occasionally a rock or two.

He didn't like other kids very much.

But sometimes the science teacher, Mr. Warsi - a man from East-India who sometimes wore a red labcoat in class as a prop - took pity on him and would let him take sanctuary in the laboratory. Those sparing moments of kindness had been enough to instill a love of science in a very, very lonely boy, and he had stayed in contact with him through his early years of high school - until the day Mr. Warsi had become a casualty of racial violence. The funeral had been small, but the empty space in Billy's heart had grown exponentially that day.

High school had been pretty standard fare - jocks stuffed him into lockers, cheerleaders sneered at him, and the in-crowd disregarded him. He had breezed through as many math and science credits as the school would allow him to gather, but gym class had been sheer torture - though, having been the kid who got picked on in grade school, he had learned to run very, very fast and had thus excelled at track and field.

His first friend had been Moist, who he had met in his college years around the time he had first had the notion to join the E.L.E.

Boy grows up alone, boy gets picked on, boy learns to despise human race, boy wants to join league of supervillains and rule the world. He could do it, too - he had the intellect, the ideas, the drive, and his knowledge of physics and biochemistry and mechanics was phenomenal -

- so why was it so difficult to talk to another person?

Dr. Horrible didn't have trouble with it - he could talk in front of entire crowds, he could gloat, he had self-confidence.

Worth.

But Billy couldn't even make eye contact, especially not when he knew the eyes were big and green and - god, there he went again.

"Freaked out? Pfft." Billy repeated in a half-hearted scoff, shrugging his mouth for emphasis; he chanced looking up, but with his chin tilted down he ended up peering through his eyelashes. It didn't last long; the moment he glimpsed the red hair, he had to look away again because all he could see was Penny,

"I'm not freaked out." he said, and it was followed up by a sudden and violent facial twitch that did nothing to support his claim. After a moment, he held up the mass of kleenex and the torn detergent package and added dejectedly:

"Just - my soap exploded."

Good job. Really. Fantastic. That Ph.D. is going a long way.

In an attempt to distract himself from his own thoughts, he began scrubbing aggressively at fine-boned but remarkably burnt, scarred, and calloused hands - welding and wonderflonium did a number on skin - while still avoiding looking at Buck.

For a long moment he was silent, and then his eyes flicked up a few more times, risking glances,

"You're - new here, aren't you?" he asked suddenly, not really even knowing why he was asking it, "In the city, I mean. Not the laundromat."
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck had never really had a problem with others growing up. Sure, his red hair had made him stand out a little bit - that and the fact that he was living in a distant cousin's attic and working a job after school for grocery money when he was fifteen. He was teased but never bullied, and it was purely luck that he turned out the way that he did.

He grew up with friends. Not best friends, but good friends; he never lacked for things to do on Saturday nights, and he learned to love people, wanted to watch out for them. Maybe it was just in his blood.

Buck was nineteen and struggling through community college when he first decided that he wanted to be a hero, put on a black mask and stopped a bank robbery, because guns were made of metal and if he concentrated just so, he was able to keep them from firing long enough to get them in the eyes with pepper spray. (He had since taken up martial arts, and he had to be honest, he wasn't that great, but a well-placed and meaning kick had saved his ass more than once.)

But back in the here, now, his eyebrows crooked in almost concern at Billy as he worked at scrubbing the detergent off of his hands.

Poor guy. Obviously maladjusted socially, but he seemed to mean well, at least, and without asking, Buck carefully took a seat on the edge of the windowsill, leaning forward and folding his own hands carefully in his lap.

"Yeah, um. Exploded. I hear it does that, sometimes." He smiled at him, trying not to show any pity he might be feeling in the expression and hoping that Billy would look up in time to actually see it. "And.. you're right. Uh. Buck." He started to offer his hand, then remembered the detergent. "I just moved here about two weeks ago. Still kinda getting used to the city, you know?"

And he spoke with the same warmth, the same gentle inflection as his sister. He just happened to have no idea who he was talking to.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Billy quietly decided that once he got back to his apartment, he was going to research whether redheads had some sort of genetic predisposition to being exceedingly kind, because the caring tone was killing him inside. He could count on one hand how many people he had met in his lifetime that had been as - benevolent - as Buck was.

Of course, he wasn't so oblivious that he couldn't recognize the careful, quiet sound of pity.

I must look like a lunatic. He probably thinks i'm insane.

Of course, then he took a seat next to him - Billy had a personal bubble, and it was currently in terrible danger of being popped by the too-friendly redhead - and then he introduced himself, and Billy's head snapped up so fast that his spine made an unfortunate crunching sound in protest.

Finally, Billy was looking at him but it was with a stunned, deer-in-headlights expression now, like his eyes were too big for his head and were currently making a valiant effort to flee the premises.

Buck.

His name was Buck.

Penny. Buck.

The heartbeat under the floor was getting louder now - or maybe that was his own heart he was hearing, pulsing in his ears. His voice came out strained as he struggled to speak coherently, feeling vaguely as though he was going to have a heart attack at any given moment,

"It takes a while to get used to, it's a - um - big city," he said weakly, "It makes it easier if you - if you know someone. Do you have any family in the city?"
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

"Nah, I just moved here from the Midwest," Buck answered with a half-shrug. "You're, um, really the only person I've met since I moved here." He leaned back, resting lightly against the windowpane and looking across the laundromat, as if making sure that his laundry wasn't going to be stolen by some gnome that desperately needed his gray socks. "I just .. needed a change in my life, you know?"

There was no reason to tell him about Penny. That was his life, his prerogative, no reason to tell some stranger his life story.

So instead, he just smiled, lifting his hand and waving it dismissively.

This guy is insane.

"Look, um, I'm Buckley, actually. I know it's kind of a weird name, but my parents have a kind of sick sense of humor." He hadn't been expecting such a .. well, violent reaction, and he lifted one eyebrow before pushing himself to his feet and rubbing the back of his head. "Look, hey, if you're busy, I'm not trying to bother you. You just looked like you could use a handkerchief."

He obviously didn't want to leave. There was something charming about Billy's awkwardness, and he hadn't realized until that moment just how much that he had been craving human interaction, especially with someone who seemed at least slightly earnest. Billy seemed skittish, but not like a freak, but Buck wasn't about to force his friendship on anyone.

Even with those words, he still.. lingered there, taking another glance across the laundromat as if not sure where else to go and sit.

I wonder if he'd be offended if I recommended sedatives.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

He definitely thinks i'm insane.

Billy felt his own breath leave his lungs in a sudden whoosh that made him realize he had been holding it in; Buck didn't have any family in the city, no mention of anyone past or present, and the knowledge was a welcome relief because he wasn't sure he could take any surprises at that point.

Besides, Penny would have mentioned family, wouldn't she? After all, during their conversations in the laundromat, he had tried to get as much information about her as he could - sometimes by plying her with frozen yogurt - because he had wanted to know, had needed to know more about her. Some days, though, she had been reluctant to tell, and from time to time she would point out that he never answered any of her questions, never gave her anything to work with, beyond his opinion on the state of society, politics, or anything that wasn't - personal.

"You've built this wall up around you." Penny had said, offering one of her shy smiles as she sat on the windowsil, "The world's not all bad, Billy - not everyone is going to hurt you. Let someone in, will you?"

He refocused; Buck was getting up from his spot on the windowsil, and Billy suddenly felt a well of panic inside of him - commentary from some distant, badly neglected part of himself that craved human contact.

"Billy." he blurted out suddenly, "I'm - Billy. Buddy. Billy Buddy. My parents liked Melville. I'm named after a murderous orphan - I might have you trumped."

He offered a smile - or, something like a smile. It was what a smile would look like if it was being worn by someone who had never actually seen one before - it stayed only on the lower half of his face, separate from the rest of his features and never reaching his eyes or showing teeth. It was a smile with seasonal acute depression.

"The benefit is that when this gets washed again, the stains will clean it." Billy added lamely, gesturing to the handkerchief, but with his eyes lowered again.

You probably should have just let him leave.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck laughed at that. Alright, so he had a sense of humor - and intellect. That was a good thing, he decided, and rare.. but maybe he was still just used to living in the college town, where flocks of girls in mini-dresses used to clumsily stumble from the bar across the street from his loft at three in the morning, shrieking giggles behind splayed fingers and clutching their purses as daintily as they could manage. Kids who had every right to party, to enjoy being young.

He just wasn't used to seeing intelligence in a face.

There was pain in it, too, though, and that piqued Buck's interest more than he liked to admit. What hurt you? he thought briefly, tilting his head just a few degrees to the side before he took a seat on the windowsill again, crossing his legs as he grinned slightly at the quip about the handkerchief.

"No, it's okay. I try to keep them on hand. Kind of clumsy, I spill things a lot."

And then the conversation plateaued, and he felt a little bit awkward, as if he should say something else, elaborate, expand.

"Los Angeles seems like a nice place. It feels like someone could really make a difference here, you know?"

He would, too, he had decided. Not pioneering for the homeless, but not getting statues erected in his likeness, either. (The day that statue was unveiled.. how many people could say that they got to see the only living family member they cared about killed on live television? He would have broke Captain Hammer's nose if he could for not protecting her, but Hammer was out of the equation now anyway, and that wasn't a very Heroic thing to do. Not that swearing vengeance was, either, but...

.. as long as the ends justified the means, he'd do what he wanted.)

"So, Billy Buddy," Buck said, letting the name roll off of his tongue curiously, "have you lived here your whole life?"
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

"Good idea. Handkerchief - never know when you'll get a unabomber detergent packet." Billy said, only half-focused on the cloth, his hands busily folding the handerchief into a neat little square.

He nearly swallowed his tongue at Buck's next words, however; blue eyes rolled slowly back up to the other man, peering at him once more, eyebrows lowered in an unreadable expression, but it was something like puzzlement - curiosity. Buck had only been in the city for two weeks and he was already expressing an urge to see change enacted - if it weren't for Billy's aversion to contact or the overwhelming social anxiety, he might have hugged Buck for his simple ability to observe the world around him, something that seemed to have escaped the rest of the population.

Slowly, he nodded his agreement.

"Been here since I was a kid," Billy ventured, "It's always been the same. Big cities like this are - they're resistant to change. People get used to things the way they are, they start to think it's normal, they forget that - that there shouldn't be 250,000 homeless people annually, that there shouldn't be kids on the street or people afraid to go out at night. The system is flawed."

His mouth twitched; it wasn't really a smile, but more like a facial punctuation; he realized, of course, that he was coming on strong again - as he tended to do, when the right subject came up, so he added:

"It could use work."
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck looked a little distant at Billy's words, and the twist to his lips then was almost bitter as he contemplated the wall. So there were some normal citizens who were aware, who understood how bad it was. No wonder Billy looked so .. skittish, like any sudden movement on his own part might cause him to catapult into the wall in alarm. "Exactly," he agreed, before looking at the blond and giving him what he really hoped looked like an earnest grin.

Mostly because it was.

"There are people working to change it. It's just a matter of time." And he thought for a moment of mentioning Captain Hammer, since he was the big Hero in this part of the woods, but he didn't want to depress Billy by reminding him how the guy had fallen. He didn't really want to remind himself, either; Hammer should have been strong enough to protect his sister, but he wasn't.

He fidgeted slightly himself, then, mostly because he wasn't sure what else to ask. He wasn't sure what else he wanted to know - it had been a long time since he had been in a new place and had to start making friends again.

"So, um."

He cast a glance to his side, reaching out to gently pluck the handkerchief from Billy's hands once he had finished folding it into a tight little square.

"This is a nice laundromat. Could use some arcade games, but, you know. Cute."
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Any mention of Captain Hammer in a positive light was generally unwelcome to Billy - but this was because he was one of the few who knew the truth about the city's so-called hero, fallen though he was. He and Hammer had been at odds with eachother for years and he hadn't initially considered it a rivalry - since at the beginning of it all, he hadn't been too clear on what he intended to do as Dr. Horrible, he had just known he wanted to enact change, and maybe have someone notice him - but after he had seen the way Hammer treated people -

- it was like they were disposable to him. People spoke to Hammer, they looked up to him, acted like he was some sort of god, and he treated them like they were insects he would willingly stamp under his boot, like they were worthless. It had only cemented the idea that the world was unbalanced - Hammer had stopped a few crimes, sure, but that was only because he got his ego stroked for it.

And when the death ray had gone off, Hammer hadn't even noticed anyone else, his only focus had been on himself, he had run out of the building not knowing that Penny was on the other side of the room dying. Not caring.

Disposable. Penny hadn't meant anything to Hammer, he had admitted it himself - he had been with her out of spite, to torment him.

I get what you want.

There weren't a lot of things Billy really wanted. Dr. Horrible - certainly, he wanted it all, he wanted the world, wanted the fame and the fortune and everything that came with it. He wanted power.

But Billy Buddy had just wanted Penny.

He had sort of hoped that when Dr. Horrible got what he wanted, maybe Penny would want him, maybe she would see him as more than the guy she sometimes had yogurt with.

"It's the same thing people have been saying for decades," Billy said, toying with the cuff of his sweater, "Idealists saying that the world just needs a little more love and TLC and things will go right - people are working to change it, but there aren't enough of them to enact the change, and they can't fight hard enough because they don't know what else they can do. It's - it's just not enough yet, you know?"

He just wasn't sure what would be enough - though, ideas had been popping up late into night while he busied himself down in the laboratory in the E.L.E headquarters over the last few weeks. He wasn't even sure where the thoughts were coming from, but they crept into his head - dark things that he had never considered before. Things that he was finding himself having to bat away uncertainly each time they came up, and every time, he found himself thinking about them for longer periods of time -

- fire. It always involved fire.

For a moment, Billy's eyes had gone glazed and distant, but he snapped out of it.

He glanced around the laundromat as Buck spoke, blonde brows alternately lofting and dipping cartoonishly as he inspected the place; there were a lot of words that he could have used to describe the place, but he wasn't sure 'cute' would have been one of them.

"It's like laundromats are designed to bore people." Billy said and nodded pointedly to a large, middle-aged woman who had fallen asleep slouched in a chair and leaning half on a rumbling clothes dryer.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

It was always nice to find a kindred spirit, someone who agreed, and Buck felt partially lightened as he followed Billy's gaze around the laundromat, his own mouth quirking into a half-grin. "No, it's just.. they're very utilitarian. You come here, but there's nothing interesting about watching your clothes spin around in some soapy water. I bet they'd make a killing if they set up a restaurant or a karaoke bar or something, too."

He glanced at Billy then, hoping that his jovial tone indicated that he really was just joking, that he hadn't come to Los Angeles just to set up Joe's Detergent and Grille. Shifting back a little on the window seat, he clunked the heel of his boot idly against the wall.

There weren't enough people fighting for the change.

There weren't enough people aware that change needed to happen, that they couldn't just sit on their rears and wait for superheroes to come along.. because heroes were great, but they were rare. Someone had to be blessed with powers or special kills and enough ethical fortitude to be able to risk his or her life for his beliefs...

Heroes weren't rare, but they weren't common, either. He had seen enough fanboys flop and flounder on the news that Buck was occasionally terrified that he was one of them in a slightly fancier outfit.

He drifted into his own half-reverie there, quiet for a moment as his eyes glazed over and he stared at nothing, before he snapped his attention back to Billy and was speaking before he realized that his mouth was moving. "So do you want to grab lunch or something after this? No problem if you can't, but I'm hungry, and there's no reason to eat alone."

Good job coming on not desperate for friends there, pal, he frowned at himself.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Billy offered another of his weak, painful-looking smiles and it faded quickly,

"I think we've got enough karaoke bars here anyways." Billy said grimly, his expression distant as though remembering some traumatic event, "Sit through a drunken rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody and then, trust me, one karaoke bar in the city is too much. Moist kept shoving the microphone in my face - he wouldn't leave me alone until I said 'galileo'."

"Say it. Say galileo! Say it bitch! Oh geez, sorry doc, I think I had a few too many."
"You think?"

The E.L.E. hadn't let that one go for a while; Undead Bowie had whistled Queen for the following week every time he saw Moist - but Bowie was kind of a jerk. And he always stood way too close - he smelled like skittles, somehow.

"It was not magnifico." Billy added morosely, and then cocked his head at Buck's question.

"Lunch?" he repeated, as though he wasn't sure what the word meant, "Like - eating? Together. With you."

It was like Billy had just encountered a foreign concept - which he sort of had. Sometimes he and Moist ate together, when he remembered to eat - occasionally he got too caught up in his work and might remember to microwave some kraft dinner or something late in the evening, when he got back from the E.L.E; Lord Stabbington told him he would get scurvy. Moist had thought it was funny and had said 'arr' until Stabbington threatened him - with stabbing.

He was starting to think he shouldn't bring Moist to the E.L.E. as often.

But back to the present, he was sitting there staring dumbly at Buck, when he should have been giving him some sort of response. Billy squinted, as though having trouble with the question,

"Yes?" he said finally, unsure of himself.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Karaoke bars weren't something that Buck could earnestly say that he was incredibly familiar with. He'd been dragged there by a friend of a friend once, stumbled through some country ditty that his dad used to blast in the car when he was angry with his mom, and stumbled off the stage. He had done another shot before stumbling out of the bar and taking a walk through the park to clear his head.

(He had stopped a mugging in progress, too, but not through any sort of superpower use. Buck made an imposing fiugre in his black coat, and the teenage would-be mugger had scurried away from his victim in a panic. When the lady thanked him, Buck just looked at her with slightly glassy eyes and patted her affectionately on the shoulder before moving on.)

"Well," he said in response to the question, clicking his tongue as he looked around the laundromat again, "you don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, I've got plenty of food options."

Buck paused.

"Okay, well, my - crazy German landlady has been trying to get me to go to her apartment for lunch since I moved in, since she wants to hook me up with her nineteen year old niece." He lifted an eyebrow at Billy, leaning forward a little bit. "So, um, you'd kind of be doing me a favor. But I'll treat, if you want." And the smile he gave was a mirror image of Penny's.

See, it's not so hard to make friends. Maybe you're coming on a little strong. Just.. smile.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Billy stared at Buck; he supposed that if his landlord was trying to set him up, he'd go into hiding too - but then, Moist had tried to set him up with various girls from time to time. More recently, he actually had gone into hiding because it turned out that Moist had scheduled him to go out to dinner with the Duchess of Defeet and had neglected to tell him - she had come looking for him down in the laboratories, and he had taken to crouching in a closet whimpering.

He didn't want to go to dinner with the Duchess. She was scary, had a bizarre penchant for feathers and spiked leather things, and he was pretty sure that no restaurant would serve what she wanted to eat - which would undoubtedly be babies and kittens.

He hadn't run into her since then, thankfully, but apparently Moist had.

"I made it up to her, Doc, no worries."

Dr. Horrible hadn't asked exactly how he had made it up to her, nor did he ask about the bite marks on Moist's throat - or why he seemed to be bleeding from his nipple. There were times where he just didn't want to know.

Billy had been about to speak, but then Buck smiled at him and his voice dissappeared, his tongue became clumsy, and all he could do was let out an odd, strangled noise and then stare for a long moment after, covering his mouth like he had just sworn.

It wasn't a normal response; Billy was painfully aware of this fact. He wasn't even sure why he had done it, he just knew that the smile had made his most basic language skills shut down.

He had to try several times after, but he finally got the words out, and they came out stuttered, his expression a little desperate, as though pleading with Buck not to ask why he had responded the way he had.

"Yes. No. I mean, yes. Lunch. Let's have lunch." he said, and stood up to leave, headed for the door, and then realized that his laundry wasn't done, so he turned and sat back down as casually as he could manage it, adding, "When the - when the laundry is done."
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck wanted to be put off by Billy's reaction. Obviously the guy was crazy - he kept floundering around, kept getting flustered by something. 'Maybe he's just got social anxiety,' he thought, and tried to be annoyed by it; instead he was just amused. Sure, he felt a little bad for the guy, but there was something incredibly sweet about it, so instead of rolling his eyes, Buck just grinned a little bit, looking sympathetically at Billy.

This was a good feeling. He was making friends. Or, well, friend, singular, but that was still better than he was doing half an hour ago.

"You'll have to pick the place," he said with the same kind of breathless smile, like he wanted to laugh good-naturedly at Billy but was holding it back. He felt the flutterings of -something- in his stomach and squished them down.

This guy was cute. Nervous, antsy.. and he couldn't afford to foster that kind of relationship with anyone, anyway. Besides, there was no way he'd be lucky enough to approach a cute guy with similar sexual preferences on his first foray out. Not that it mattered, he reminded himself.

"It'll be a little while before my washing is done," Buck mused with a half-apologetic smile. "Um. Do you mind if I wait with you?"

It had been a while before he'd.. hung out with anyone, and it was admittedly a little bit difficult to think of conversational topics. Most of the time he just went to sports bars with his kind-of-friends, those acquaintances who called each other up when their girlfriends were busy, and Buck would tag along, even though he knew next to nothing about football or anything else.

"If not, that's alright. I'm not trying to be - ahah. I'm kind of a mess, I know." He cut himself off, then shook his head resolutely. "What kind of food do you like?" There. That was a safe subject.
 
Re: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxWineandine)

Buck was still giving him that smile so Billy found himself ducking his head like a kid to try and avoid it, like someone keeping their eyes downcast from a bright light - too much like Penny's. The eyes, the hair, the tendency to hang out in laundromats and smile at people - what was he even doing, agreeing to going out for lunch?

He didn't even know this guy and he could barely look at him - maybe he was losing his mind, maybe that was it. He was losing his mind, and this Buck guy was some figment of his imagination, his mind's attempt to - to torment him or something. He probably wasn't even in the laundromat. Or maybe he was, and he was just sitting there talking to himself and everyone else was already convinced he was crazy, why would anyone be talking to him, after all? No one ever talked to him.

Billy cracked a nervous smile, but with the way the corners of his mouth pointed down rather than up right then, it was more like he was grimacing, or baring his teeth just a little,

"You think you're a mess?" he said, self-effacing when confronted by his own rising panic; he could feel it welling up inside of him, terrifying and overwhelming, disturbingly familiar to the feeling he'd had every time he had tried to speak to Penny, the sort of paralyzing fear that had him stutter to a stand still and then turn and run. He was going to run any minute now, when fight or flight kicked in for Billy, he always picked flight.

Oh god, he was still smiling.

Yeah, he was going to fly any second now.

"At least you didn't make detergent explode - who does that?" Billy asked, now twisting the edge of his hoodie between his hands, desperately trying to push down the panic.

And then, just as it built to a crescendo, something hit the window behind them and Billy started so hard that he fell noiselessly off the windowsil, springing back up almost immediately with bizarre speed to turn and stare out the window - where Moist was currently mushing his hands and face onto the glass, a motion that was resulting in a high-pitched squeaking sound as he left droplets on the window.

A long, awkward silence fell then as Billy stared at Moist, and Moist froze against the glass, hesitating as his currently deformed eyes flicked from Billy, to Buck, and back again. Slowly, he moved away from the glass, rubbed away the - water - with the sleeve of his jacket, and waved animatedly.

"I'm coming in!" Moist mouthed, and Billy just continued to stare at him, leaving Moist hesitating for another moment before he went around and appeared inside the laundromat seconds later, briefly rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans; he glanced at Buck, then at Billy, "Hey do - Billy. I knew you'd be here so I thought I'd drop by. Say sup and everything."

And then Moist did a sudden double-take, looking at Buck for a second time; again his eyes flicked to Billy, then back to Buck. Slowly, his face split into a wide, almost psychotically friendly grin,

"What's up?" Moist asked.

"Moist this is Buck. Buck this is Moist. My - " Billy said, and then paused for a moment, because 'henchman' just wouldn't cut it, "- best friend."

This seemed to sit well with Moist, because the smile widened just a little more, threatening to actually reach his ears. For a moment, Billy and Moist looked at eachother, then Billy said, slowly:

"You look like a pez dispenser."

"Hey that's funny, because Bowie said I look like a muppet when I smile like this," Moist said, and then looked back to Buck, "Not - not David Bowie. Another Bowie. Common last name."

"It's like 'Smith' here in San Diego. Lots of Bowies and Mercurys." Billy said, completely monotone, eyes slightly glazed from the impact of his own panic while Moist put out a hand to Buck in greeting.
 
Oh God.

Buck stared as Moist's hand slid across the glass, his mouth falling open slightly in confusion at the wet trail that he left behind on the glass. What the heck had... He narrowed his eyebrows a little bit in confusion. Was he - was that some kind of disorder? A - maybe he had just fallen into a fountain or something.

He kept the smile going as Moist walked in regardless. As said before, he needed to make new friends, and just because the guy was a little damp - but -

Moist?

This guy's name was Moist?

He shook his head to clear it, thrusting his hand out to Moist to shake. "Buck," he greeted, re-introducing himself with what he hoped was a friendly smile. It had been a while since he had to actively make friends, and he was doing his best to make a good first impression. "Billy was attacked by a wild packet of detergent... I had to rescue him."

And then suddenly he felt like he was intruding, casting a glance between Moist and Billy almost curiously.

"Um, yeah. There are a lot of Jones's back home. Szerdehelyi's, too. I don't even know what nationality that is, so it's fine."

Before Moist had the opportunity to shake his hand, he dropped it self consciously into his lap, pulling his phone out of his pocket to inspect the time. "Uh, Billy and I are going to go grab some food after this. Do you want to come?"
 
Unfortunately, Moist hadn't fallen into a fountain, a pool, or even a puddle - it was a result of what Moist had deemed as a poorly-calculated medical treatment on his father's part, involving an air humidifier and a rod of plutonium. On occasion, Billy had questioned the biology of it but had ultimately decided that there were just some things that couldn't be fully explained - and Moist's hyperactive sweat gland was one of them.

"Buck." Moist repeated and, still smiling, he turned his head briefly to look at Billy, and though there were no words, Billy knew precisely what his friend was thinking.

His name is Buck.

"Yeah, he gets attacked a lot." Moist said, and Billy's eyebrows did that lofting thing again, so Moist added, "By inanimate objects, I mean. It's like his life is based on the Brave Little Toaster, except it's more like the Sociopathic Little Toaster. Attacking him and all."

There was a brief, awkward silence, during which Billy shuffled his way over to the dryer and surreptitiously stuffed his clothes into a linen bag - there seemed to be a number of reds amidst the grey, black, and navy hoodies and t-shirts.

"Uh. Yeah, you know, I was going to stop off at that little deli on the corner of Lombard." Moist said, pointing vaguely south-ward, "It's about ten minutes from here, we kinda know the lady that runs the place - Chewy."

From behind Buck, Billy cast a warning look his way and Moist remembered that he was talking to a civilian, not a member of the E.L.E or even the Henchmen's League.

"It's a nickname." Moist added, "Stupid nickname. She, uh, sometimes - when she laughs, she sounds like Chewbacca. And she's kind of hairy. Makes good sandwiches, though."

Billy, now with his bag slung over his shoulder, mumbled:

"Szerdehelyi is Hungarian."
 
It was almost a little fascinating to watch the two of them talk, and it was a relief to know that Billy wasn't socially maladjusted or insane - just a little bit nervous, apparently. "Sounds good. I mean, if you don't mind me tagging along. I'm trying not to do that intruding thing," he said, lifting a hand to wave it dismissively in the air before he heard the buzzer on his own dryer, getting up to toss his clothes in his mesh bag.

Lots of white t-shirts. Blue boxers, a couple pairs of jeans - mostly just enough clothes to get him through a few days. He was vaguely unelegant about it (though "unelegant" in this situation would apply to almost anyone doing laundry at the laundromat - he didn't fold his clothes with the patience and almost reverence that Penny used.)

He picked up the line of conversation when he returned, the bag hoisted over his shoulder as he grinned a little crookedly at Moist.

"No, I get it. I know a girl like that. She just seems to attract walls. We used to worry that she was being beat up by someone, but spend more than five minutes around her.." Buck trailed off with a shrug, briefly casting a glance down to study his feet.

Well.

Where did they go from here? Moist and Billy, obviously two great guys, but it just felt like there was something.. unsaid between them. The looks they kept casting each other.

"Uh. If you two are dating, that's cool. I mean, not that I think you - are, just because you're friends, but I mean, just because I'm from out of state, doesn't mean I'm closed minded, you know."

Buck froze for a moment.

Oh my God did I really just ask that.

And he pressed his hand against his face.
 
"Tagging along?" Moist repeated, then offered a big, lopsided grin, "No, hey, three's not actually a crowd, and if it was, I'd kinda be the one, uh, crowding. Anyways, we like a party."

Billy's expression didn't indicate much enthusiasm for parties, but that seemed to be the normal state of affairs; his features were currently settled into one of mild puzzlement, which was pretty standard whenever he found himself thrown into any situation that even remotely involved social skills.

Moist, who knew Billy better than anyone, was aware that his friend - boss? - was doing that thing he always did around other people; he was retreating into that dark little shell of his, the one that Moist had been trying to wrench him out of for a while. Sure, it was good for the whole Evil League of Evil thing, but he was pretty sure it wasn't good for Billy's brain or anything - most of the time he could barely get the guy out of the E.L.E, if not the apartment.

Hermit.

Crazy, wonderful, brilliant hermit.

Moist didn't realize that he was looking at Billy with intense fondness until he heard Buck speak, and then he was staring at the redhead instead, eyebrows shooting up.

"Huh?" Moist said, and Billy was off in his own little world until the implications of it all hit him and then he started out of his reverie and stared owlishly at Buck, eyes blinking like two giant blue lamplights.

"Uh, no, doc - I mean Billy and I, we're just - buddies. You know, friends. I mean, really, really, undeniably close friends, but still just friends." Moist said, putting an arm around Billy for emphasis, tugging him close to his side for an instant, "Yep, only romance here is bromance, you know? Am I right?"

Moist put out a hand to his employer to receive a bromantic fist-pound.

"Please let go." Billy implored.

"C'man." Moist said, and Billy's eyes rolled skywards before he reluctantly pounded it, and was thus released from his sweaty prison; Moist moved on towards the door, apparently in an effort to leave the subject behind with the laundromat, and Billy cast a brief, sideways look at Buck.

"He's a little too damp, is all." Billy said mildly.
 
Buck grinned slightly as Moist dropped an arm around Billy and needled him into the fist bump. He was definitely feeling a vague sensation of.. well, not really jealousy. Longing, maybe. It was human nature to desire friendship like that, though, and it was what came with being who he was.

He loved people, but get too close, and you risk putting them in danger.

"Buddies," he repeated amiably, shifting the weight of the laundry bag thrown over his shoulder. He was wiry, but seemed strong regardless, and he bounced it slightly on his back. "Good thing to have in a place like LA."

He chuckled under his breath as he headed for the door, nodding a little bit at Billy.

"Um. I'm thinking about.. joining a book club or something. Trying to branch out again." He paused, then contemplated the door with an almost wry smile. "I was thinking about volunteering at a soup kitchen, but it's really not my thing, you know?"

It was too passive. He was all for ruling the world with love, but aggressively feeding people was something more up Penny's alley, not his. "I've got, um, an interview for a school around here. I've got a teaching degree. And oh God, I'm just kind of.. rambling off my whole life to you, I'm sorry, Billy." He looked at him, eyes hoisted apologetically as he pushed the door open and nodded at him.

"Um. How's that deli?"

He talked too much. He needed to work on that.
 
Laundry in tow, Moist led them out into the hot, smog-filled Los Angeles air, nearly smothering in it's humidity; Moist was dressed appropriately in a t-shirt and cargos, but Billy trudged alongside them in his oversized hoodie and baggy jeans, apparently unaffected by the heat.

"Hey, it's a big place," Moist said, "Pretty diverse, too."

He glanced back at them, waiting for a moment so he could fall back in step beside Billy - who he noted was currently giving Buck surreptitious looks, little glances from the corner of his eye without actually fully turning his head, clearly not wanting to be noticed doing it.

Funny thing was, though, Billy never really did get noticed - sometimes even Moist lost track of him despite being especially conscientious of him, it was like he blended into the background like some sort of chameleon, dissappeared from sight.

The doctor, though - people noticed him.

"You know, I'm sure Billy here would be willing to give you a tour - show you the city, he knows every side street and soup kitchen in L.A. I think he even volunteered at a couple." Moist said, the words slipping from him before he even thought about it; to his right, Billy flinched visibly and then blue eyes slowly rolled in his direction, boring into him with an expression that he knew belonged to the Doctor, and not to the very mild-mannered Billy.

Moist's grin didn't fade though, because as far as he was concerned Billy could use the socialization - he was just being mindful of his employer's mental welfare. Billy didn't have much of a chance to respond, though, because Moist was speaking again, rapidly changing the subject,

"Here we are," he said, gesturing broadly to Guerrero's Deli - it was a small place located down a crooked road. The deli itself was run by two workers, and the outside of the place was decorated with blooming orchids and surrounded by small glass tables and rickety-looking bamboo chairs; the overall effect was of a charmingly run-down little family business, "You guys get a seat, I'll go order, alright?"

And Moist offered them one more glistening smile - along with a glistening thumbs up - before he skipped off into the deli with a shout of:

"Chew-ay!"

And, after a long silence, Billy pulled out a chair and slouched into it, apparently seeking to make himself as small as he possibly could; from his vantage point in the chair and with his hoodie bunched up near his chin, he peered up at Buck:

"Why did you move here?" he asked suddenly, though not unkindly - it was simply curiosity.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom