Inbox (The City)

[hairsprayed]

USERNAME: steveh Steve Harrington Stranger Things TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO • ACTION • OVERFLOW

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text 🦇 un; banished

[guitarpicks]

STEVE

THS IS IMPORTANT

text | un: steveh

[hairsprayed]

Are you ok??? What happened?????

[guitarpicks]

WHAT KIND OF QUeSTION IS THAT

we need to think of secret code words to use with each other in case this place does some freaky-deaky clone shit

or this is all a vecna fueled mind game [ is it safe to use the phones this place provided if that's the case? no. but someone's tapped into their own weed stash. ]

[hairsprayed]

It's the kind of question I ask when people are getting murdered!!!

Clones? You think something like that could happen? [ Being here does seem like the kind of situation that would benefit from having code words, though. He'll admit that later. ]

If it's Vecna, he's taking his sweet fucking time. We've been here for a month already.

[guitarpicks]

by other people
that's like the most normal part of this shit

why couldn't it happen here?

maybe he's playing the long game, you know?

[hairsprayed]

Vecna used to be just a person.

We don't know anything about this place yet. It might just be a normal empty city. Right?

I don't want to think about that. [ But, unfortunately, he should. ] We should find a music store.

[guitarpicks]

yeah with crazy powers

a normal empty city with no animals, no corpses, no nothing. right. normal. totallllllly normal.

think of a code word and we can go looking for a music store. [ he had goals here, okay?! ] but don't send it to me here.

[hairsprayed]

Ok then why would there be clones if there aren't other people or even animals?

How are we going to know that some weirdo mind reader won't just be able to figure out the code word?

[guitarpicks]

[ these are all good points, steve.... shhh. ] because that'd be some fucked up shit i'd do as a DM

like an empty city? clones of the people there showing up would FUCK up a campaign. how do you know which member of your party is the real one? huh?

it has to be a really fucking good code word then and not obvious!

[hairsprayed]

You're not seriously treating this shit like one of your games, are you?

Yeah ok whatever. Guess it doesn't hurt to try it. Better not get us killed though.

[guitarpicks]

haven't the D&D analogies not worked for upside down shit? why not here.

i have an idea--- meet me in the hallway in like 10? [ also he's pretty sure they're dead, steve, so like... can they get more dead? ]

[hairsprayed]

Only because I was surrounded by nerds. We could have called Vecna Hilter instead.

15, I was getting out of the shower when you messaged me.

[guitarpicks]

first, awful.
second, that doesn't work because vecna wants everyone dead

is that enough time to do your hair?
i can wait an hour [ teasing. mostly? ]

[hairsprayed]

Save your fingers, I'm not hearing this one out.

Shut up. 15 unless you want me to show up wet and naked.

[guitarpicks]

sounds like a challenge, man

oooooo feisty. see you in 15

[hairsprayed]

[ Steve finishes getting ready—he'd already been working on his hair, thank you very much—so that he'll be ready to go out into the city with Eddie. Living here, surviving, feels like a strange mixture of time in Hawkins and time in the Upside Down. He can go out without an arsenal of weapons, but he's bringing a backpack with basic supplies in it and a bat he's scrounged up from the sporting section of a department store. It doesn't have nails in it, mostly because he doesn't know what will happen to him for making a weapon if murder is being punished, but he's got a mean swing if nothing else.

Bat strapped to the backpack and backpack slung over one shoulder, he steps out into the hall exactly fifteen minutes later. Had he waited two extra minutes just so that he could be annoyingly on time? Yes. He's going to take the small pleasure where he can get them, and annoying Eddie in return is one of them. ]

[guitarpicks]

[ eddie's already outside when steve approaches, leaning against the wall outside of his apartment with one arm wrapped around himself and the other holding a cigarette. he's got one leg propped up on the wall and he's tapping his foot, ever in motion and a ball of nervous energy since his arrival to the city.

when he sees steve step out into the hallway, eddie takes a drag of his cigarette and moves to stub it out against the wall before remembering this place seems weird about destruction of property. he doesn't want to try it.

so he'll just go on smoking.

he offers steve a nod in greeting. ] Right on time for little old me, Harrington? And not one hair of place?

I'm swooning! [ he grins. or tries to. it doesn't exactly reach his eyes but eddie's trying not to let the way this place is getting to him more than the upside down show. ]

[hairsprayed]

[ The greeting of cigarette smoke tells him Eddie's already out here before he even lays eyes on the guy. He doesn't have anything against smoking, partakes often enough himself, but he feels like he should say something about being a good role model around Will. They're on their own here, and it'd be better to not add a rebellious teenager onto their list of problems.

Rolling his eyes, Steve smiles faintly nevertheless. Eddie can be damn annoying, but it's oddly refreshing that he's still normal despite how insane the world around them feels right now. Sure, there isn't anything directly threatening them, but that just makes it feel like a looming danger is around the other corner, and Steve hates waiting for the other shoe to drop. ]

Yeah, yeah, don't cream your pants. [ He leads the way down the hallway, then stops up short and turns around. ] Scooby.

[guitarpicks]

I won't with that attitude. [ there's no bite behind the words or really anything else beyond eddie's slow drawl as he starts after steve down the hallway.

he's moving slower than he would, still, even with a month of healing behind him he's not back to feeling fully like himself. with the scars and the pain that comes and goes, he's not sure he ever will. ] Hey, slow down. What's the hurry?

[ but then steve stops short and eddie nearly crashes into him, stops with his hands up right at the level to cop a feel and get slapped if steve were a chick. ] Like the snacks?

[hairsprayed]

There's no hurry. [ Except there kind of is, now that the Vecna brain worm has wiggled its way back into Steve's brain. He'd thought that this might be one of his sick tricks when first waking up here, but he'd pushed the thought aside in favor of focusing on things that he could actually handle: finding friends, setting up a place to stay, not dying. Eddie talking about Vecna has reawoken a paranoia that Steve would like to settle once and for all, and he just hopes that he can find the right music to do it.

Steve stops short when he sees Eddie so close, stepping back and using the pause as an excuse to shrug on the other strap of his backpack. It's something to do, practical fidgeting that keeps his body from doing something else. ] What? No, like the dog. I mean, I guess also the snacks.

[guitarpicks]

Okay. Sure, no hurry. So can we stop power walking like a mom's morning club? [ they're not in coordinated track suits anyway and eddie really would love to not keep straining his muscles.

eddie drops his hands, stuffing them back into his pockets before hissing and pulling the one holding his cigarette out with a hiss and shaking it out. it hurts like a motherfucker, yeah, but he's done worse to himself. ] Shit--fuck.

[hairsprayed]

Yeah, if you stop complaining like my dad.

[ Watching Eddie fidget and then hurt himself, Steve steps forward as if he's— what, going to stop Eddie? somehow un-hurt him? It feels awkward, suddenly coming close, so he turns back around and heads out at a slower pace. He keeps forgetting about Eddie's injuries since they'd healed at a surprising rate, but they're there nonetheless. So Steve doesn't apologize for being thoughtless, but he's definitely walking more slowly now. ]

So? What's your word?

[guitarpicks]

Sorry some of us had better things to do than gym class. [ eddie wants to snap, he does but he keeps that from his tone as he shakes out his hand and then rubs the thumb of his uninjured hand over the burn on his palm.

it feels crueler, suddenly, to snap instead of leaning into of a quip about not being anyone's daddy or something equally tongue-and-cheek to throw the other guy off. it's just-- it's just that i's weird -- being here. and not eddie's sort of weird. the sort of weird where they're surviving it at all and waking up in an empty city where there's nothing and no one but a bunch of people trying to figure out if it's a bad trip, death, or something else.

eddie sighs. ] Sorry, I've been in a shit mood.

[ which he knows isn't fair. steve's not exactly in a great mood either, not with the looming danger and the fact the other shoe just won't drop. eddie falls in step, thankful to keep up with the new pace that doesn't strain his legs.

he thinks for a moment, hums as if he's thinking. ] Anduril.

[hairsprayed]

[ Steve takes it in stride, sort of reading between the lines and accepting the snappish comment even if the tone isn't a biting one. He's gotten used to being called out for his life—his upbringing and his parents' money and his life of leisure as a popular kid. The days of King Steve are long over by about three years, but he's still taking hits on the chin and then turning the other cheek.

He'd been an asshole. People can be assholes back to him if it makes them feel better.

Nodding and turning to glance at Eddie, his eyes go back in front of him when they hit the stairs to descend to ground level. ] Hey, that's fair. We went through hell only to show up here.

[ It also sucks because actually, Steve is terrible at being around other guys. He hasn't had a male friend his age since Tommy, and even that was a weird friendship sometimes. Steve can comfort girls, and even the kids to a certain extent, but he doesn't know what to do about Eddie. So he just acts the way that he'd probably treat himself and tries not to overthink it. ]

And— what? Sounds like drugs or something.

cw: mention of drug use?

[guitarpicks]

Yeah. I just-- How are you so calm about it? [ it's not an accusation but there's a bit of desperation in eddie's voice, like he wants to know the secret of it all to figure out how to get to the other side of his life turning upside down and then ending in this.

he knows, objectively, that no one's fine.

but he'd love tips on how to not feel like he's going to be jumping out of his skin any second. especially when weed is limited and despite the occasional coke and ket habit, eddie's not really looking to get hooked on the available pain killers he's noticed are well stocked in the pharmacy shelves.

luckily before he spirals into thoughts, steve makes the mistake of asking a question. which leads to: ] A drug it is not. It's a sword. The Flame of the West, technically. Not like an actual flaming sword, though that be sick as fuck to have, but like a beacon of light metaphor and all that. It belonged to a badass ranger and King in the Lord of the Rings.