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If, um-- if anyone happens to be near the library who wouldn't mind walking to building ten...

[Eyes open, Todd. Eyes open, eyes open, eyes open...]

Let me know? I'm just... not sure I can make it alone.
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Um --

[Pause -- he probably should have stopped and thought before he started his post about exactly what needs to be said and how.]

So... if you're, uh... affected by all this...

[He clears his throat softly, trying to get his words together, but it all really boils down to just one question.]

What-- what are we supposed to do?
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... so, uh... I guess the important thing to remember today is that it could be much, much worse. I mean-- curses can be awful. People can be hurt, or killed, and... well, this one is... it's really just absurd.

So... I think... that's what we should all keep in mind. Especially-- um. Especially when your roommate won't stop laughing at you. You know... the roommate that's supposed to be your best friend.
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[Todd is out in the City today, just off his shift at the library and on his way to the bookstore to meet up with Neil. He's moving quickly, and trying not to interact with too many people. You could say he's outright avoiding them, granting anyone he walks past on the sidewalk the largest buffer of personal space he can manage. Clearly he's spent enough time violating his own sense of boundaries today.

As he intently focuses on making it an uneventful walk, he reaches the first corner on his route. One intersection reached, one block cleared. As a lovely young lady that steps up alongside him at the curb, he reaches over, hand lightly on her jawline, and cranes into an impressively passionate kiss to mark this accomplishment. Upon satisfaction of the curse, they both pull back - and Todd is bright red and far more flustered than the girl.]


Ohh-- oh, God, I'm sorry, I-- I'm so sorry, I was just... I was focused on making it each block without-- and... and then I did, and-- I just-- I would never... I mean. Oh my God, I am so sorry.

[She just laughs it off, saying it's happened plenty of times today, no big deal, and goes on her way. Todd sighs deeply, then returns to making his way towards the bookstore, trying to focus a bit less intently on making it there without incident. That's... totally a thing he can do.]


[ooc: For the Network, you just get to hear the sound effects and Todd stammering and stuttering his way through the response XD]
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--not like I can help it. I don't like to post anything on the Network very much to begin with, but certainly not while I can't even control what I wind up saying. And now it's already recording-- um, hello.

I'm very sorry, everyone, I really don't have anything important to say or announcements or news or anything like that-- I mean, I don't even really want to be posting to begin with. Not that I don't like to talk to people-- I mean, I don't really like to talk a lot, I'm sure there are any number of people who can tell you that, but I don't mind having conversations with friends or with people who want to be friendly. Besides, really, it's not as if I have anything against other people, I just don't really think I have anything worthwhile to say to most of them, and I doubt that most people really want to talk to me anyway, since I'm not really very interesting.

But now I just can't stop talking at all, and I wish that I could, because I keep blurting out every little thing that pops in to my head and like I said, I don't even want to be on the Network but there's something about this curse where it just feels like it's making me go on to the Network and go on and on and I'm just trying to focus and not think of anything-- anything that... that I wouldn't want to say to everyone. So all I can do is think and talk about this curse and wonder if I've spoken enough that I can manage to turn off this device yet and stop this post from being any more ridic--

[click. success.]
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I have a brother - an older brother, named Jeffrey. He's... well, he's smart. Incredibly smart, really, and driven. Sociable. Charming. Popular.

[He pauses, then adopts a tone that fondly imitates an absent friend, even if only one other person in the City will know it... to anyone else, it just sounds like he's sarcastically emphasizing the grandness of Jeffrey's achievements, though with fondness and humor.]

Valedictorian. National merit scholar.

[Back to normal now.]

He's everything that our parents could have ever wanted in a son, and I would never blame him for it, it's... well, our parents just put all of their hopes and dreams in him, and set their expectations by his accomplishments. Every time he succeeds at something, he raises the bar just a little bit more.

He's the standard to live up to.


[ooc: At work, leaving in a bit! Tags may be delayed and spotty. UGH I am also SO VERY SORRY for anything I dropped, life got hectic... again ;;]
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[voice]

Um-- in case anyone we know is concerned, I just wanted to let you all know that Neil and I are staying at the warehouse, with Rosella. It's... well, a lot safer than our apartment is, and-- I don't know, it's sort of comforting to have more people around with all of this going on.

It seems like it's a good thing we managed to come yesterday, too... it sounds like things are getting worse out there. I, uh-- I don't know if there's really much that I can do, but... if anyone has any ideas on how to fix this and needs people to help, I'll do whatever I can. I mean, if there's anything I can do. I'm not anything special... I don't have any powers, I'm not strong or even exceptionally smart, but... the City is my home. I don't want to see it destroyed. I don't even want to leave. Right now I'm just trying to stay safe and stay out of the way, but if there's something more I can do... I will.

We helped patch the barrier once before-- that was with the deities, and... well, they've been pretty quiet during all this, but... still. There has to be something that we can do.

[later that evening... action @ the warehouse]

[One of the best ways Todd has to unwind is to write. That shouldn't be surprising to anyone who knows him, of course. It's not that it's a form of escapism, though; it's more a way to move beyond dwelling on his current situation and move his mind into a different type of reasoning, one that's more abstract and subjective. It lets him approach one thing from a multitude of perspectives and connect things in ways he wouldn't have thought of otherwise. It's an exercise which makes working through all the conflicting, disorganized streams of thought in his mind seem a bit less impossible.

Of course, this is a bit larger than most of the situations he's approached this way. Right now, all he seems to get is doom and gloom, circular verses that don't work through anything but rather plant themselves firmly in a rut. If anything, it's making it worse.

Still, he doesn't what else to do with himself right now. So he sits on the bed in the room he and Neil have been put up in, in the warehouse, and he writes, and all of his frustrations and fears tumble out onto the paper in a frantic, scrawled jumble of words.]


[ooc: Backtag warning! I'm crashing soon and prob. won't be back until after work tomorrow (though I may sneak a few tags if it's a lighter day >>;). But, I will be backtagging on both this and Wilson's entry from yesterday. <3]
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[GIANT OOC NOTE: So here's the dealio. I really wanted to do this and have it work into the Omens thing. Then Premiere was a giant jerk this weekend. It's still being a giant jerk, as is evidenced by the weird video glitches you can see in this, but it's the best I've been able to get it to do right now without backdating this even more AUGH. >< But I think it gets the point across. It's a selection of scenes revolving around Neil's suicide and the aftermath.

SO THIS IS REALLY REALLY BACKDATED. LIKE A LOT. To late on Sunday, specifically.]
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[Todd is a bit distracted as he goes through his day- well, preoccupied, really. Chalk it up to having spent the previous night tending to someone's unicorn-induced injuries... at least, as much as Neil let him. He's tired, for one thing, and for another, he's still concerned; after all, the animal is still on the loose.

But, he makes it to work at the library, spending the day shelving and cleaning and helping people as much as he can manage. During his downtime, he sits at a table and writes away in his notebook, a familiar object to any who see him regularly. He walks to work and home in a sort of haze, more concerned with his surroundings than the other people on the streets.

He doesn't even notice the mistletoe's made a return before going out.]



[ooc: Hit him up anywhere; library, out on the street going to or coming from work, whatever <3 NO HIATUS WILL KEEP ME FROM THE MISTLETOE CURSE.]
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[The frame is rocking slightly as the video feed opens, from its position resting on the counter next to a tray nearly full of raw meatballs. Todd has a grimace on his face as he forms the last of them with his hands, clearly not pleased to be handling them. After he places the last one down, he takes a moment to survey the tray.]

I think there might actually be too many...

[An out-of-focus figure in the background moves closer, as Neil abandons his scrutiny of one of the (several) pots on the stovetop to come inspect the tray of meatballs. Some scattered packages and wrappers and half-chopped vegetables on the counter attest to the fact that, yes, they've done this all by themselves.]

I don't think there's too many. I mean, how can there be, we'll just... have to eat more of them. Or have them tomorrow.

Well, I guess we can do that... as long as they fit in the pot.

[Todd laughs slightly, picking up the tray to deposit it into the oven. One such wrapper, a bit of clear plastic, clings to the bottom of the tray as it's lifted off the counter. Thus, he focuses on the balancing act of shifting the weight of the tray to one hand, trying to keep it steady as he moves his other hand to remove the plastic.]

Uh,

[Neil says rather doubtfully, glancing at the stove before turning his attention back to Todd, raising a hand to help support the slightly wobbly metal as the other boy peels off the plastic. He grins a bit sheepishly; clearly they have not thought things through entirely.]

We might... need another one.

Might?

[Tray back in both hands, he turns - very carefully and slowly, to minimize the crowding of the tray with the other boy in the kitchen - and eyes the stove. Definitely not large enough.]

... yeah. We might.

Well.

[There's a certain sighing resignation in his tone as he steps back and glances at an open cookbook propped against the wall, before stooping to open the oven door for the meatballs. At least they've remembered to preheat the oven.

The meatballs, at least, are carefully deposited into the oven, which is one thing thankfully taken care of and out of their hands. After he straightens, he glances at Neil with an arched brow.]


We do have another pot, right?

[Neil looks at the large pot, which is bubbling, and has been bubbling for quite some time. Maybe they shouldn't have started the pasta and the meatballs at the same time. He chews at his lip.]

I think there's one more big one, in the cabinet?

[Todd casts an uncertain glance at the bubbling pot as he turns to open the cabinet, going in search of the fabled other pot. Really, it seemed like a good idea at the time. After a moment...]

I don't see it.

Well I know we had one...

[Kneeling to try another cabinet, Neil methodically stacks assorted pans and pots on the floor besides him, mostly out of the way, before finally pulling out something big enough to hold the plethora of meatballs, handing it upwards.

Pot in hand, Todd turns... to find that the pasta is now boiling over. With a startled yelp, he fumbles with the pot in his hands a moment, just managing to not drop it, and lunges towards the stove to turn off the burner.

That startled sound startles Neil in turn, and he sort of hops back, right... into the pile of pans, which teeters and crashes. It's not high enough to cause any damage or hurt him, but it makes a hell of a noise.

Todd just manages to get the burner turned off before the pots fall. When they crash to the floor, though, the clatter again startles him and he jumps away - and towards the device, which his hand collides with, sending that to the floor as well and, thankfully, turning it off before the City is privy to further domestic failings.]


[ooc: Oops. Blue is Todd. Green is Neil. Fail is universally applicable.]
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Thanks to how my life has gone lately, I don't want to go home.

I know I'll have to, eventually, but... I don't want to. I like it here, and--

I don't know. I think-- I think the worst part is, I'm not sure if I'd rather remember what happens here or not. Because... because if-- if I don't remember, then I won't miss anything.



[ooc: HEY GUYS. You may recall that I did an FML post for Wilson as part of the meme curse during the last grab bag. I figured that I would make the coding that I used for that post public in case anyone wanted to borrow it. You can find it on my personal journal in this entry.]

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Todd Anderson

January 2012

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